Will and Joe don’t have an easy time of it, from misunderstandings to complications both two-legged and emotional, but the feelings they develop for each other bind them together. Life and love do not have an easy path for most of us. But they do get their HEA.
Many of you have seen my Facebook page. My wall is open to anyone who wants to friend me and I post odds and ends there. For example there is Will and Joe at the Corner Cafe or Will sees a new Indian Motorcycle he wants or Joe buys another llama much to Will’s dismay. You see Will was traumatized by a rather large male llama and since then, the city boy in him is sure they are plotting to BBQ, roast or fry him. Will is a city boy from Philly so adjusting to a very rural area can be awkward for him. Joe was born and raised on a farm and owns a farm. Sometimes he just sits back and enjoys the show as his partner tries to adjust.
The one thing you can be sure of when you work in law enforcement is that little clause of “Other assigned duties” can lead to all sorts of things. Like trying to capture an escaped llama.
Here is a part of Will’s Llama Trauma in Standing Stone.
Joe shrugged his jacket on. “Come on Will, we got to do some llama roping.”
“You’re joking, right?” Will stood.
His partner laughed.
Shit. Joe wasn’t joking. This sure wasn’t another day in paradise. Paradise was not slogging through a muddy corn field chasing a damn llama. The powers that be were teaching him a lesson. It had to be punishment. Punishment because he lusted after his partner.
The cornstalks, higher than his head, went on forever. They blocked the view. Even jumping didn’t help.
Why in the hell didn’t Abe cut down the damn corn stalks before Halloween? And for that matter, why in the hell couldn’t he be the one on the four-wheeler herding the damn llama? He could herd. Well, he was fairly sure he could herd. Hell, it wasn’t like herding was a city cop’s job description unless you counted herding drug dealers into a trap. That should qualify him for llama herding. How much harder is herding a llama than herding a bunch of brain-fried drug dealers?
The stalks parted as a huge irate llama shot through them. Will’s brain registered it weighed more and stood taller than he did. Shit, the ones at the fair were smaller. Self preservation kicked in. He dived to the side landing face first in a lake masquerading as a mud puddle. The ATV slowed to a stop next to him as he raised his head.
“Don’t you know what head off means?” Joe inquired.
Will sat up. He wanted to whack his partner with a mud ball, but the mud wouldn’t stay together. Wiping mud off his face, he answered. “Yes, I know what head off means, but apparently to a pissed off llama in this county, it means something entirely different than it does to a bunch of drug dealers in Philly.”
“Didn’t he respond to your badge?” Joe’s lips twitched.
“Oh, fuck you.” Will put his hands back in the mud and tried to push up. He slipped, landing on his back. He laid there and stared up at the sky. “Just fuck you.”
Joe started to laugh. “You’re supposed to wave your arms and yell.”
“How the hell was I suppose to know that?” Will managed to get to his feet. Step, squitch. Damn mud. The next step was more careful. Squitch. Giving up, he squitched toward Joe. “The only damn thing I ever owned was a damn goldfish. If you wave your arms and yell at a damn goldfish, and if he bothers to notice, he’ll wonder if he’s getting fed.”
“Shit.” Joe leaned back and howled. He wiped his face with his sleeve as he caught his breath. “That llama is probably on top of the ridge by now. Abe will get me for getting mud on here, but climb on back. We need to get your dry clothes.”
Will squitched as he climbed on the ATV. When Joe started to vibrate with laughter again, Will smacked his back, leaving a muddy hand print as a brand.