beginning--”
“I don’t talk about it with strangers. Frankly, it was none of your fucking business, Kyle. It still isn’t,” Rory retorted.
Kyle watched Rory walking away with stiff, angry strides toward the entrance to Wild West Land. Jeeze, can you ever open your mouth without sticking your big, fat foot in it?
Then again, how was I supposed to know Rory would be so sensitive about his condition? If he’d just told me it was a medical alert bracelet, I never would’ve questioned it again.
As he slowly followed Rory to Wild West Land, Kyle wondered if he’d ever get Roarke Stafford figured out.
Chapter Six
He’d overreacted and now Rory was even more pissed than he’d been a minute ago. He knew he should slow down and wait for his trainer, but he couldn’t make himself stop.
What the fuck did it matter if Kyle saw him as anything more than a problem he had to fix? Rory wasn’t here to make friends, and he sure as shit didn’t care if Kyle took the time to see Rory as a person, not a Trainee. Rory had plenty of friends, and none of them were as strait-laced and uptight as Kyle Forester.
None of them had eyes quite that warm shade of brown, either. Or hair that looked soft enough to make Rory want to run his fingers through it.
Wait, what? He wasn’t thinking of Kyle that way, was he? One little shower fantasy was hardly enough to make Rory go all warm and fuzzy over the guy. But here he was, waxing poetic over the shade of Kyle’s fucking eyes, of all things.
Maybe that’s why he was so mad. Okay, this was stopping now, then. Rory had heard enough psycho-babble from his mother to know that anger was just a sure sign of stronger, hidden feelings. Cut out the anger and the other stuff should go away, right?
Rory stopped short and Kyle nearly walked right into him. Rory hadn’t realized Kyle was so close on his heels; he must have hurried to catch up with Rory.
He forced a smile. “Hey. Sorry for snapping. I’m tired, it’s hot, the usual. We cool?”
Kyle regarded him with an unreadable expression. “Sure,” he said slowly. “We’re cool. Sorry I harassed you about your bracelet. I… I wish I had known what it was.”
“Now you do.” Rory shrugged and held up his wrist. “Had diabetes since I was a kid. Used to be embarrassed by it, especially since I’ve always had to wear this thing. As a teenager, I wore it as an anklet for a while so I could hide it better. Now I don’t care.”
“Uh-huh.” Kyle studied the bracelet from where he was but made no move to see it close up. “Okay, well. Sorry again.” He seemed subdued and unwilling to meet Rory’s eyes.
Rory made himself grin. “No problem. It’s over. So, Wild West Land? What’s our mission here?” If he steered the conversation back around to work, they’d both be safe. And besides, he was feeling slightly guilty for almost getting Kyle fired. The least Rory could do was pretend to be a good boy until next week.
“We need to start at the Buffalo Bill Shootin’ Gallery. From there, we’ll do a clockwise sweep of the area before lunch.” Kyle sounded more sure of himself when in trainer mode.
“Lead on, boss.”
Kyle did just that, winding his way through the Happy World guests that populated the western-themed land. There seemed to be an abundance of cowboys and pioneers that were dressed in “authentic” Old West wear, as well as a wide stretch of riverfront that was home to the Park’s steam powered riverboat, Old Glory. Rory thought he might like this land the best, especially when they passed an impromptu gun fight between a cowboy and a sheriff.
They came around the corner of a merchandise store selling coonskin caps and the like, and there, standing amidst a crowd of eager tourists with autograph books, was Charlie Taylor.
No, no. Daniel, not Charlie. He was in character as Daniel, which Rory thought was kind of weird over here in Wild West Land. Daniel the Dragon Slayer didn’t really fit the Wild
“I don’t talk about it with strangers. Frankly, it was none of your fucking business, Kyle. It still isn’t,” Rory retorted.
Kyle watched Rory walking away with stiff, angry strides toward the entrance to Wild West Land. Jeeze, can you ever open your mouth without sticking your big, fat foot in it?
Then again, how was I supposed to know Rory would be so sensitive about his condition? If he’d just told me it was a medical alert bracelet, I never would’ve questioned it again.
As he slowly followed Rory to Wild West Land, Kyle wondered if he’d ever get Roarke Stafford figured out.
Chapter Six
He’d overreacted and now Rory was even more pissed than he’d been a minute ago. He knew he should slow down and wait for his trainer, but he couldn’t make himself stop.
What the fuck did it matter if Kyle saw him as anything more than a problem he had to fix? Rory wasn’t here to make friends, and he sure as shit didn’t care if Kyle took the time to see Rory as a person, not a Trainee. Rory had plenty of friends, and none of them were as strait-laced and uptight as Kyle Forester.
None of them had eyes quite that warm shade of brown, either. Or hair that looked soft enough to make Rory want to run his fingers through it.
Wait, what? He wasn’t thinking of Kyle that way, was he? One little shower fantasy was hardly enough to make Rory go all warm and fuzzy over the guy. But here he was, waxing poetic over the shade of Kyle’s fucking eyes, of all things.
Maybe that’s why he was so mad. Okay, this was stopping now, then. Rory had heard enough psycho-babble from his mother to know that anger was just a sure sign of stronger, hidden feelings. Cut out the anger and the other stuff should go away, right?
Rory stopped short and Kyle nearly walked right into him. Rory hadn’t realized Kyle was so close on his heels; he must have hurried to catch up with Rory.
He forced a smile. “Hey. Sorry for snapping. I’m tired, it’s hot, the usual. We cool?”
Kyle regarded him with an unreadable expression. “Sure,” he said slowly. “We’re cool. Sorry I harassed you about your bracelet. I… I wish I had known what it was.”
“Now you do.” Rory shrugged and held up his wrist. “Had diabetes since I was a kid. Used to be embarrassed by it, especially since I’ve always had to wear this thing. As a teenager, I wore it as an anklet for a while so I could hide it better. Now I don’t care.”
“Uh-huh.” Kyle studied the bracelet from where he was but made no move to see it close up. “Okay, well. Sorry again.” He seemed subdued and unwilling to meet Rory’s eyes.
Rory made himself grin. “No problem. It’s over. So, Wild West Land? What’s our mission here?” If he steered the conversation back around to work, they’d both be safe. And besides, he was feeling slightly guilty for almost getting Kyle fired. The least Rory could do was pretend to be a good boy until next week.
“We need to start at the Buffalo Bill Shootin’ Gallery. From there, we’ll do a clockwise sweep of the area before lunch.” Kyle sounded more sure of himself when in trainer mode.
“Lead on, boss.”
Kyle did just that, winding his way through the Happy World guests that populated the western-themed land. There seemed to be an abundance of cowboys and pioneers that were dressed in “authentic” Old West wear, as well as a wide stretch of riverfront that was home to the Park’s steam powered riverboat, Old Glory. Rory thought he might like this land the best, especially when they passed an impromptu gun fight between a cowboy and a sheriff.
They came around the corner of a merchandise store selling coonskin caps and the like, and there, standing amidst a crowd of eager tourists with autograph books, was Charlie Taylor.
No, no. Daniel, not Charlie. He was in character as Daniel, which Rory thought was kind of weird over here in Wild West Land. Daniel the Dragon Slayer didn’t really fit the Wild
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