Cowboy Sandwich Book 2: Second Helpings

Chapter 1 Barry Logan sat on the plane waiting for takeoff, Jake Wilson and Jimmy Pierce on either side of him. He’d imagined the next time he’d be making this journey to England, he’d be alone and defeated after a failed relationship and business venture. But instead, he and his two cowboy lovers were making the trans-Atlantic crossing for a much happier reason. “How long a layover do we get in New Jersey again?” Jake asked from Barry’s right. “A couple of hours. Should give us enough time to stretch our legs, have a bathroom break, and maybe grab something to eat.” Barry had chosen Liberty International for their layover because on the way back he’d programmed in a couple of days sightseeing in New York City. Jimmy sat silently on Barry’s left. Turning to him, Barry asked, “Doing okay there, big guy?” Jimmy nodded and said quietly, “I’m fine.” It didn’t take a genius to know he was far from fine. This would be Jimmy’s first flight. He’d confessed he’d hardly ever left Colorado growing up. Jimmy had been subdued the past few days, when usually he was the more outgoing of Barry’s two lovers. Barry reached for Jimmy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. When he let go, Jimmy grasped the hand back again and held on. “You’ll feel better once we get in the air.” Immediately Barry’s right hand shot out and slapped Jake’s left knee. “What?” Jake protested. “You were rolling your eyes,” Barry said, not shifting his gaze from Jimmy’s face, which was an unhealthy white. “I was not,” Jake protested. “It’s just a plane ride. Heck, this leg, we won’t even be over the ocean. So if we crash, the wreckage will—” Barry delivered a second and harder slap to Jake’s knee. “Ouch! I was only trying to comfort him by saying we’d be guaranteed to reach the crash site at least an hour before the ambulances.” Jake laughed at his own joke. Barry didn’t find it funny and made to slap Jake again, but he moved his leg and Barry’s hand landed on the seat. “Shut up!” Barry hissed, worried they’d be kicked off the plane for inciting fear among the passengers or something. Barry moved his right hand to caress Jimmy’s blue-flannel-clad arm. “Air travel is the safest form of transport.” “Yeah. We were in more danger of crashing on the way to the airport than on this plane,” Jake chipped in. “With you driving us here, that’s for sure,” Jimmy said, recovering a little of his usual spark. “f**k you,” Jake said under his breath. Barry shot Jake a look. He’d already warned both men that children would be on the plane and they would need to moderate their language. And, judging by the number of passengers still boarding, it looked like it would be a packed flight. Later, once most people were aboard and in their seats, a female flight attendant walked down the aisle, checking that everyone had their seats and trays in their upright position and seatbelts fastened. Tina, according to her name tag, paused at their row. “Oh my, you three are color-coordinated.” Jimmy was in his traditional-for-him blue shirt, Jake was as usual wearing red, and as had become his practice, Barry had on a purple shirt. Tina frowned in concentration. “You’re familiar somehow.” Barry smiled and nodded. He had a good idea what she was about to say next, but Jake beat her to it. “The Ranch-O-Rama game?” “Yes. That’s it!” She slapped her thigh. “You guys must get told that all the time. You look so similar to the characters, it’s spooky.” Before Barry could stop him, Jake said, “We are the game. Barry here,” he pointed to his left, “designed it and set it on our ranch.” “No! Really?” Tina’s hand went up to her mouth. Then she must have realized she had a job to do, so excused herself to continue her pre-flight checks. “You didn’t have to tell her,” Barry said to Jake. They’d only been spotted a handful of times in the eleven months that the game had been on the market, and Barry had been embarrassed every time. “I did. We’re proud of what you’ve done. Aren’t we, Jimmy?” “Damn straight,” Jimmy said quietly. “And it’s thanks to your game that we’re heading off to England,” Jake added. “Our game,” Barry said automatically. Right from the start, Barry had refused to take all the credit. If it hadn’t been for Jimmy, Jake, and the hands, not to mention the Double J itself, he couldn’t have designed the game. Initially he’d drawn the cowboys as generic characters but everyone on the ranch who’d initially beta tested the game wanted the characters to look like them as well as carry their names. But Jake was correct in one respect. If it hadn’t been for the game, and the nominations it had received from one of Britain’s gaming magazines, they wouldn’t be flying to England.