Country Fried Love

By W.M. Kirkland

When Jaime flies to Iowa for his friend's wedding, he discovers the closeted lover he'd left in college is out and the star at a local drag club. After a wedding weekend full of reunion sex, all Jaime wants to do is bring Trevor, aka ShyAnne, back to Denver to star at his club.

Except Trevor's built a good life for himself in Iowa, and he wonders if Jaime wants him only for his high heels. The sex might be great, but he knows Jaime got bored with his countrified life once.

An offer for Jaime to buy an Iowa drag club has both of them rethinking their situation, and Jaime wondering if he can really be happy with some country boy love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: W.M. Kirkland
• Release date: Apr 9, 2016

W.M. Kirkland

W. M. Kirkland lives in Wiltshire, having worked/escaped across much of the UK and Europe. Now married with two children, Yogi a 7st Bulldog and Zeeki a small human, he spends most of his time trying to figure out what his IP Lawyer wife, Gem, does for a living. A keen fan of British ice hockey and all boxing, he has spent most of his life telling people he is an author. This book finally proves him right and means the score with Gem is around 13,877-1.

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Country Fried Love

By W.M. Kirkland

Copyright 2016 by W.M. Kirkland

Smashwords edition published by Charmed Chicken Media at Smashwords

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Chapter One

The bare, freshly tilled fields differed little from those he’d seen each spring when he’d gone to college. Farther north, across the Iowa-Missouri border, the soil turned blacker, richer, and the rolling hills eased. Iowa wasn’t as flat as Kansas or Nebraska, and the scenic view outside his hotel window reminded him he was in farm country. Big black cows stood on a hill, a fence dividing their grazing from the field. A tractor had slowed his arrival to this hotel, and he’d resisted the urge to blare his radio and roll his eyes. He’d come from farm country once, but he’d escaped to Colorado. Now he was back to celebrate a friend’s wedding here since gay marriage wasn’t legal in Missouri yet.

Jaime Richards shoved the curtains closed and turned back to the open suitcase on the luggage rack. He checked the clock. A brief get-together before rehearsals tomorrow would start in an hour. He had a bit of time to relax and freshen up after the flight in from Denver. Out of habit, he checked his cell phone. No texts waited for him. For once maybe his business partners were handling things without his assistance. He grinned and tugged his shirt free of his jeans. A long shower and a fresh shave—Jaime ran his fingers along his stubbled jaw—would make him feel more human. Then he could see just what sort of shindig Micah and Dix had put together. He laughed at the thought of his old college roommate getting married to a man. He had wondered when the hell Micah would come out of the closet; it’d taken longer than Jaime had thought it would, but he liked Dix. And Dix made Micah happy.

Twenty minutes later, wearing a worn MSU T-shirt and a pair of jeans, Jaime tucked his tablet beneath his arm, shoved his room key into his pocket, and headed down to the bar. Thank goodness the happy couple hadn’t chosen a small B&B as they’d wanted to. Dix had started to count up the number of people who were coming and, instead, they’d booked most of the rooms at a decent-sized chain hotel off the interstate near Keokuk. The wedding was timed so the couple could end their weeklong honeymoon with a Civil War reenactment event in the area. Jaime thought it was cute and a little hokey, but hey, whatever they wanted. They were close enough to the Missouri and Illinois borders that friends from both states could easily attend. He’d been one of the few to fly in, and even then, he’d had to drive from Des Moines. It might have been a longer drive, but at least he hadn’t had to deal with St. Louis traffic. He had never seen Iowa, and now at least he could say he had. He wanted to get back to the mountains of Colorado.

The bar was still mostly empty, though he saw a couple of guys trying to chat up the lone waitress. He ordered a local brew at the bar, then sat down at a table. By the time his email had loaded, the waitress had brought his beer and he’d opened a tab to his room. He didn’t plan on drinking…much.

With his email checked and no communications from his business parnters—apparently he’d needed the vacation more than he’d thought, because normally his partners didn’t hesitate to contact him when he was out of the office—Jaime had little to do but wait for the wedding party and think. He hated waiting, and thinking wasn’t a good idea. Not here, not in farm country.

Unbidden, Trevor Marcomb’s face rose to mind. Tanned, with curly dark brown, almost black, hair and twinkling blue eyes, he epitomized farmer. Square jaw, broad shoulders, the young man had a chest that left men, and women, drooling. Jaime shook his head to dislodge the image. Trevor had been dealing with a change in major that had pissed off his daddy; he hadn’t been able to deal with much more. And Jaime, well, he hadn’t wanted to think past his next fuck, and Trevor had only been willing to be that for a short time. Even gay farm boys had strong feelings. Must have been something in that upstanding Midwestern water.

Jaime pulled up his club’s website, checking the updates and the new scripts which were installed. The site ran smoothly, and he sent a quick good job email to Dane. A quick reply—You’re on vacation. Take it, damn it.—hit his in-box, and Jaime chuckled. Sure, he’d somehow parlayed his college degree into owning one of the hottest clubs on Denver’s drag scene. He still marketed the club relentlessly. He’d work as many hours as it took to keep the gay scene in Denver happy. There were other things to erect besides buildings and bridges.

A stunning brunette walked into the bar. Had he swung that way, he might have looked longer. Though her face held some masculine planes, on her they appeared strong, rather than manly. The sweep of her perfectly done makeup complemented her features perfectly. The nipped jacket accentuated her waist, and though her shoulders were broad, she was proportioned well. He turned back to his tablet to see what email had just arrived.

Is this seat taken? The brunette stood by his table, her manicured nails resting on the lacquered surface.

Um, no, Jaime replied, wondering if he should tell her straight up that he was gay. Except, this close, he wondered if she might be a he… No, he was in Iowa. He turned back to his tablet.

Instead of taking his curtness for a hint to go away, the woman sat down. The waitress came over, and she ordered a beer on tap, not some fancy fruity drink that women were supposed to enjoy. She billed it to her room, which he noted was only a few doors down from his.

He felt like a heel for not turning off his tablet and at least talking to her. Surely Micah or Dix had a few female friends; she probably was here for the wedding. Except