Approximately one mile on his trek, white-bright headlights spanned around his dark frame on Grove Lake Road. He heard the familiar and rough grinding sound of a V6 truck engine as well as loose road gravel being sputtered up by the truck’s tires. The truck’s engine revved, paused, and trundled toward him. He stopped walking, spun around, and was blinded almost immediately. When he partially blocked the headlights with a palm held over his eyes, the truck stopped about twenty feet away, and its driver flicked off its lights.

“Who’s there?” he called out. There had to be over twelve hundred trucks in Stockton County, if not more, that belonged to just about any and every cowboy. Maybe he knew the person behind the wheel. Maybe not. He should have been startled, but he wasn’t. Probably because fools were born every other minute -- his label at that hour of pre-midnight.

The driver didn’t turn the truck’s engine off. Instead, he, she, merely sat behind its wheel for almost twenty seconds. Again, he inquired, “Who are you?”

A whitish-blue shadow hung over the steering wheel -- definitely a male, on the larger side, ballcap facing forward. Eventually, the driver’s door creaked open. The male stepped out of his truck and asked in a familiar voice, “Bear Bastion ... is that you?”

Shit. Just his luck. It was Welsey Westward. Bear assumed he was driving home from Cowboy Up! He stood in the white-brushed light with his hands on his hips and his legs ever so slightly spread. He looked athletic, bulky in all the right places, and pure country. His question irritated Bear, “What the fuck are you doing out here, Bear?”

Bear was honest and to the point: “Walking home. Taylor and I had a little argument.”

“What about? I thought the two of you were best friends. And best friends usually don’t have it out with each other. Especially on buddy night at the bar.”

It happens ... it happens. Even when best friends don’t think it’s going to happen.

“Look, West. Get in your truck and drive away. Forget you ever saw me. Hell, forget you even met me. My spat with Taylor has nothing to do with you.”

“I didn’t say it did. I was just curious what you’re doing out here, walking after dark.”

“Don’t play charitable and helpful person with me. You already fucked up my evening enough.”

Surrounded by moonlight, he pointed to his chest. “Me? What the fuck did I do?”

Bear repeated the scene and dialogue he and West shared in Cowboy Up!.

“I don’t remember calling you a man-slut, Bear. I simply told you how I knew you, which is exactly what you wanted to know. If you recall, there wasn’t any name-calling or labeling in my response. If anyone should be mad, it should be me. If you recall, you’re the one who called me an asshole. After that, your buddy stepped in and stopped you from punching me. Something tells me your hit would have knocked me flat on my back because you were so upset. He pulled you out of the bar before you could attack me.”

Bear looked up at the semi-laughing moon, the shadow of West’s running truck, and then at West’s handsome face. A recollection of the event unfolded in his mind, and then he determined West was right in all parts.

West added, “If you want to know the truth, I thought you were a cute guy. I was simply trying to dance and have a few drinks with you. I didn’t know where the end of the evening was heading between us. If we ended up with more than that, I would have been fine with it. Nothing about what I said had my opinion in it. If I intend to have a good time with a guy, there’s no way I would call him names about a rumor that I don’t even believe.”

“The rumor isn’t true. Well, partially, it is. Taylor does pick up guys at bars, takes them back to his ranch, has sex with three or four of them in a man-pile, and films the shit. He downloads the scenes to a website and makes money from them. I don’t do that, though. It’s not my kind of gig. I’m a one-man kind of guy when it comes to getting’ naked. And I don’t use a phone or cameras in the bedroom.”

West shrugged his wide shoulders and semi-smiled. “It doesn’t matter to me either way. Whatever guys do together or alone isn’t my business. I was just telling you how I knew your name, Bear. Sorry about the mess back there. I didn’t mean for it all to explode like it did.”

“I get it now,” Bear told him. “I’m sorry I called you an asshole and almost punched you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Apology accepted.”

Pause. Silence except for the sound of West’s truck’s engine and the smooth and chilled wind against Bear’s ears. No longer could Bear fear a bobcat or local dogs in the distance. Maybe the truck scared them away, he guessed.

West broke the silence between them with, “Now, I’m glad I found you out here.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because I’d like to continue tonight with you. I was having a good time until it went bent.”

Bear’s shiny smile and eyes glinted in the moonlight. “How so?”

“Because I want to have a coffee with you at Bradley’s Beefy All-Niter Diner and get to know you better. If you don’t want to do the same, I’ll drop you off at your place, wherever that is. What’s your choice?”