Calvin’s Cowboy by Drew Hunt

laughed. “Me, too.” Then he sobered. “I can start this afternoon, but I’ll need to take Friday off though.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yeah. Need to watch my kid play a ballgame and bring him home from camp.” He realized this was the first time he’d told Calvin about Junior. “I can work Sunday to make up for it.”
    “Sunday is the fourth.  You’ll want to spend the day with your family.” Calvin removed the plates and mugs from the table and stacked them in the dishwasher.
    “Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten about that.” Brock stood and put on his Stetson. “So it’s okay that I take off Friday?”
    “No problem.” Calvin smiled at him and nudged the door of the dishwasher closed with his foot.
    “Thanks.” Brock tried to put his hands in his pockets, but the jeans were too tight.
    “Oh, your Resistol is in the family room. Do you want me to get it?”
    Brock shrugged. “Might as well leave it where it is for now.” His Resistol was his best hat and he didn’t want to get it dirty with work.
    “Okay then, Gary Cooper, let’s go and round ‘em up.”
    Brock shook his head and turned for the back door.
    “Fuck!”
    “What?” Brock turned back around.
    “Nice ass!”
     
    Chapter 5
     
    “So, what shape seat do you need?” Brock asked.
    They were standing in the bathroom section of the home-improvement store , a seemingly endless selection of fixtures and fittings in front of them.
    “Shape?” Calvin asked, confused.
    “There are two basic kinds, round and elongated.” Brock sketched with his hands.
    “I have no idea.”
    Brock shook his head. “How can you not know? You sat on the thing for years.”
    “Yes, but I don’t have eyes in my ass.”
    Brock smirked.
    “Don’t go there, Gary Cooper.”
    “Okay.” Brock held up his hands defensively. “Say, how’d you come to break the seat anyway?”
    Calvin leaned in to Brock’s side and got under the brim of his Stetson. “While jerking off thinking about you, of course.”
    Brock pulled back, looked momentarily shocked, then let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, right.”
    Calvin couldn’t look at Brock. Why the hell had he told him the truth? At least the man took it as another of Calvin’s teasing jokes. Concentrating on the prices, Calvin realized he could get a basic wooden seat for about $25, so suggested they get one of each of the two main shapes, so they’d be covered.
    “No problem. I’ll get you a refund for the one we don’t need. Probably have to come back here for this and that, so I can return whichever seat you don’t need.”
    “Too much hassle. I’ll give you whichever one doesn’t fit. I assume you’ll be able to use it on another job?” Calvin risked a glance at the sexy cowboy.
    Brock looked as though he might protest, but in the end merely nodded and said, “Thanks.”
    “I’m ninety percent sure I need the elongated shape, but…” Doing it this way would help Brock out.
    “No problem. Any particular preference for color or style?” Brock asked.
    “Just wood color.” He wouldn’t be sitting on it for long.
    Calvin watched Brock reach up and take down a couple of seats from the rack. The sleeveless black T-shirt he wore showed off his biceps beautifully. Calvin tried to adjust himself discreetly, but Brock caught him and raised an eyebrow.
    “Shut up!” Calvin growled.
    “Didn’t say a word.” Brock grinned.
    The bastard took hold of the flatbed cart and began pulling it behind him, the effort causing the muscles in his right arm to flex wonderfully.
    Calvin followed behind, readjusting himself again.
    As they shopped for floor tiles, grout and lord knew what else, Calvin couldn’t help but observe other people in the store. He hadn’t realized quite how big a construction-worker fetish he had.
    “You’re drooling,” Brock whispered to him at one point when a particularly fine example of flannel-shirted hunkiness walked past pulling a cart carrying lengths of two by fours.
    “Yeah.” Calvin