When they reached the outskirts of town, the ranger asked, "Have you eaten today?"
Treston hadn't eaten anything; he had no appetite at all. "I'm fine. Thanks."
"I can stop for something," the ranger said.
Treston sent him a glance and smiled. "I'm okay. I just need to take a long, hot shower and forget about everything for a while." He didn't want to admit he had no money and he didn't want this nice park ranger paying for him.
Treston lived in a small apartment that had once been a motel. It had a low, square look of the 1950s, with an art deco sign out front that read, "The Desert Queen." Either the people who had turned the motel into apartments didn't care or they were too busy to notice, because they'd never even bothered to remove the "vacancy" sign below it. They painted the stucco white every year but it still had a chipped, unkempt look no matter how hard they tried. And the aqua blue front doors and trim could have been defined as either high camp or offensive. In any event, it was home and it was the only thing Treston could afford. When the ranger pulled into the parking lot, Treston felt a rush of relief pass through his entire body for the first time that day.
He pulled right up to an empty space near Treston's door. He stopped, turned off the engine, and sent Treston a sideways glance. "Are you sure you're going to be okay, buddy?"
Treston wasn't certain how he felt about anything anymore, but he turned and said, "I'm fine. I really can't thank you enough. And I'll wash the sweatsuit and bring it back tomorrow. No one's ever been this nice to me before." He laughed and tossed his head back. "I have this feeling this is the point where you're going to grab my arm, shove me down on the seat, and strangle me."
The ranger laughed and said, "You're much too cute to strangle. I wouldn't harm a hair on your sweet little head."
Treston flung him a look and smiled. This time, for the first time that day, he looked directly into his blue eyes. Treston knew for certain this park ranger was gay. No straight man ever would have said he was cute, and Treston had a feeling it was the ranger's way of letting him know without actually saying it. "You're a very nice man," he said. "I always pictured the knight in shining armor who would rescue me would be different. He would ride in on a white horse and scoop me up in his arms. I guess I have to work on that fantasy a little."
"I'm just plain old Cooper Boon," the ranger said. "I work as a park ranger and I've been on plenty of horses, but never a white one."
Treston extended his right hand and said, "I'm Treston Fair Leigh. It's nice to meet you, Cooper Boon." His name had a historic sound, as if he'd been named after some wild cowboy from the old Wild West. He probably looked great in a cowboy hat with his rugged jaw.
Cooper shook his hand and said, "It's nice to meet you, too, Treston Fair Leigh."
Treston glanced at his watch and said, "I really have to go now. I'll be late for work. I work nights and I have a very strict boss." He didn't mention what he did for a living. He knew how people often judged male strippers and he didn't feel like being judged anymore that day.
"I have to get back to the station," Cooper said. "I'm on duty until nine tonight."
"I'm sorry again you had to go through all this trouble," Treston said. "I can't thank you enough for helping me out this way. I thought that asshole had taken all my sunshine away. It's nice to see there are still some good people left in the world."
"Your sunshine?"
Treston laughed. "It's just this thing I say sometimes. I like to listen to the old song, You Are My Sunshine. And today I thought Harlan had finally taken it all away for good, until you came along."
"You're doing it again," Cooper said.
"What am I doing?"
Cooper smiled at him and said, "You're trusting me too soon. For all you know, I'm a mass murderer. I could be even worse than Harlan. You have to stop trusting people so fast."
Treston shrugged. He couldn't argue with him. He should have learned his lesson and here he was, trusting a total stranger all over again. And this time he wasn't even interested in having sex with him. "I guess I'm just a hopeless fool."
"No. Not a fool and definitely not hopeless," Cooper said. "You're just a little too nice and there's nothing wrong with that."
This was the kind of compliment that made Treston feel awkward. He didn't mind when men told him he gave great blow jobs, or that he had a tight ass. He didn't mind when men felt him up and raved about his body. Where most people would have been creeped out, he found it complimentary when he saw a man sitting below the stage where he stripped, stroking his dick while he watched Treston dance. But the moment a man started to compliment something deeper than what they saw on the outside, Treston didn't know where to run first. So he reached for the door handle and said, "I have to go, Cooper. Thanks again. I'll get the sweatsuit back to you soon."