The Man Who Hated Ned O’Leary (Dig Two Graves #2) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Dig Two Graves Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
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“It might snow tomorrow again. It’s not good to travel alone in this weather. You’ve seen the wolves… Maybe you’d be wise to plan for a longer stay.”

A chuckle broke from Cole’s lips. “You’re pushing your luck, O’Leary. If it snows tomorrow, I’ll think through my plans, but I’m not staying here forever.”

Ned groaned and threw the liver onto the griddle as the vegetables cut by Cole simmered in a pot next to it. “Wouldn’t it be better, though? To stay? After Lars’s stunt, people will be looking for us in the area.”

The smile dropped from Cole’s lips and left him cold. Lars had been the very reason why Cole had been able to straighten up his act. He’d been the one to talk to lawmen and the face of their two-man team. Without him, Cole didn’t have a source of income. Unless he moved somewhere no one bothered to look for him.

He had no home. No friends. Nowhere to go. He could consider finding work with the circus again, but he had no idea where Jan’s little empire had travelled to. Nor would he want to get entangled with people like that again. He’d become too attached to the easy-going atmosphere and had let his guard down. As much as he’d enjoy visiting them all, were he to stumble upon his old friends, staying with them posed too many risks.

“Ned, you know why I can’t stay,” Cole said more firmly.

“‘Cause you hate me? Didn’t seem like it last night.”

Cole put the crate on the table and counted to ten, focusing on the utensils resting in a wooden cup rather than on Ned. Once again, his weakness was used against him, and he loathed it. “I don’t hate you anymore. I understand why you’ve done what you’ve done. But that doesn’t mean I agree with it, or that I’ve forgiven you. You destroyed my life, and I suffer the consequences.”

Ned pushed back his hair with a frown but didn’t meet his gaze at him. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive me?”

“How the hell would I know?” Cole asked, turning to face him, because he was no stranger to confrontation, even if those with Ned were somehow more difficult than any standoff involving guns and bullets.

Ned spread his arms. “So what? You’re just gonna find yourself another Lars?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. What was he to you really? You said you’ve been with a lot of men.”

Ned was forgetful, but not where Cole would have liked him to be. And as much as Cole wanted to dismiss the question or mock Ned for it, the sudden tightness in his throat made him bide his time by resting his hands on his hips and taking a deep breath. Lars didn’t deserve what Cole had done to him. “He was a good friend. I could count on him when it mattered. And yes, we fucked, because it’s convenient that way. So what? I’m not going to live like a monk.”

Ned huffed and rested his hands on the back of the chair. “So you were bounty hunters together? For how long?”

Cole swallowed and leaned more of his weight against the counter. “Two years.”

More time than he’d spent with Ned, yet somehow he could recall every joke, every kiss, and every night they’d shared. He’d been so jealous of Ned’s time and the company Ned kept that he could hardly stand watching him talk to the girls in camp. But neither he nor Lars had cared where the other spent his nights, as long as they came back. Cole had appreciated that arrangement, even though it had lacked the passion that guided his actions in the past.

“And before that? What did you do after we parted?” Ned glanced at Cole’s forehead with pity, which made Cole want to put on a hat, or at least the plain bandana he always wore whenever there were people around. But he stood his ground, because what was done was done.

“Earned more bounties on my head as I tried to make a living? Fucked my way through the West? What exactly do you want to hear?” he asked, hoping that hurting Ned would stop this onslaught of uncomfortable questions.

Ned shook his head and backed off. “I want to know you again, but looks like that’s impossible. Finish the stew, will you? I’ll go feed the horses.” He grabbed his hat and coat, and headed for the door, whistling at the dog, which rose as if it had been waiting for this moment all evening.

Cole finally had his peace, but while the luxury of a warm home and silence should have been a blessing he hadn’t been afforded in a very long time, the space somehow smelled of Ned, as if he were present and watching Cole even without actually being there.



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