Xavi's Wild Ride [The Men of the Crazy Angle Ranch 2] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Bellann Summer

  Chapter Two

  Holy crap! Xavi cleaned the shoeing equipment and put everything away. Then he went and brushed Satellite down and let him out into the pasture. All the while, he was thinking about the giant farrier that had been in most of his thoughts and some of his dreams for the last three days.

  Xavi had been minding his own business that first day, cleaning out a stall, when in walked a huge, long-haired man dressed in a black T-shirt that stretch across his muscular chest. Jeans encased powerful thighs that made Xavi want to run his hands over them while he sucked on the package that was clearly outlined.

  Xavi’s shyness was the bane of his life and he could do no more than nod a greeting at the man each morning when they met in the barn. Xavi would give just about anything if only he could make himself talk to the man. It wasn’t like Trace was a monster or anything. In fact, Xavi could swear as he watched Trace work, there were times Trace was looking back at him. Xavi got goose bumps just thinking about it.

  Now Trace was hurt and Xavi decided that he had to help him. With determination, he was going to push his shyness aside and take Trace something to eat. He would include pain medicine, in case Trace needed it.

  Making his way to the bunkhouse, he quickly showered and then made a couple of sandwiches in the tiny kitchen. Most of the meals were served in the big house, but the bunk kitchen held basic supplies for the hands. Getting a tray out, he added chips to the plate, along with a glass of milk, and he took them to the door of the room that he knew Trace was staying in.

  Setting the tray on the floor, he ran back into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of over-the-counter painkillers and then headed down the hallway. Before he could lose the courage he was hanging onto by a thread, he knocked on the door. Xavi heard a muffled response, but couldn’t quite make out the words.

  Opening the door just a little, he said, “It’s me, Xavi. Can I come in?”

  “Come in, Xavi,” Trace answered.

  Opening the door wider, Xavi froze. Before him, lying on the bed was Trace, dressed only in a pair of tight black boxer-briefs. Acres of skin, covered in small beads of water, called to him, asking for his touch. Thick tribal tattoos covered Trace’s upper chest, shoulders, and upper arms. Long, still-wet black hair fanned out from the pillow beneath Trace’s head. Xavi was stuck. He couldn’t move, he was so transfixed by the man before him.

  “Did you need something, Xavi?” Trace asked.

  Xavi couldn’t answer, he could only look at Trace helplessly, grey eyes wide and pleading.

  “Did you bring me some pain medicine, sweet pea?”

  Xavi looked down at his hand holding the meds. He was so embarrassed, he was sure his face was beet-red. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t make himself answer that gorgeous man. It was even more humiliating, because he had just been talking to him and now he couldn’t. So, like an idiot, he nodded his head up and down.

  “I can take them dry, but it would probably be easier for me to swallow them down with water.”

  Automatically Xavi tossed the bottle of pills to Trace, who caught it with one hand. When he realized what he had just done, Xavi felt even more like an idiot. Turning, he bent and picked up the tray of food.

  Behind him, he heard, “Nice.”

  Not understanding what Trace was talking about, he turned and saw that Trace was staring at his ass. Now his face flushed for a whole new reason.

  Xavi took the tray over to a wooded chair sitting against the wall and set the tray on the seat. Then he went back over to Trace and helped him sit up. He tried his hardest to ignore the feel of warm skin under his fingers and the eye-popping muscles while he propped pillows behind Trace’s back. Xavi hated that the action brought another hiss of pain from between Trace’s clenched teeth. Once he was settled, Xavi went back and got the tray, trying not to stare at the large bulge under the cloth of Trace’s underwear, before laying the tray over it.

  Taking the bottle of pills out of his hand, Xavi opened it and shook a couple of tablets out for Trace, and then handed him the milk. All of this was done without him saying a word. It gave him time to get his bearings and ease the muscles in his throat so he could hopefully speak.

  Trace let Xavi take care of him, watching as his actions seemed to release some of the tension out of the man. He could see now that Xavi’s shyness at times was almost disabling.

  “Why don’t you bring that chair over here and sit for a minute?” Trace indicated to the wooden chair Xavi had used for the tray. Soon Xavi was seated next to the bed, watching as he picked up the sandwich and took a large bite out of it. For a second, Trace stopped chewing when the taste of sour pickle burst in his mouth. Seeing the look of expectation on Xavi’s face, there was no way he was going to tell him that he detested pickles. Instead, he took bite after bite until the blessed sandwich was gone. Then he gratefully drank the whole glass of milk down to wash away the taste.

  “Thank you, Xavi. That was really nice of you to make that sandwich for me.” Trace took a few chips and held out the plate for Xavi to take some. Trace was pleased when he did.

  When he was finished, he set the tray down on the floor by the bed.

  “Are you in a lot of pain?” Xavi asked.

  “Actually, the meds are kicking in. But tomorrow, I think it’s going to hurt like a bitch.” Trace was glad Xavi was starting to talk to him. With what he had in mind, it would never work if Xavi didn’t talk.

  “Xavi, do you want to stay on Silas’s Ranch permanently?” Trace could see Xavi was thinking over the question carefully.

  “Right now, I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he answered.

  “Do you like working with the draft horses, or do you want to do something else?”

  “I’ve always wanted to work with the horses. My family demanded I obtain a two-year associate’s degree to become an assistant accountant. I was working as a bookkeeper at a bank, but that’s not what I really wanted to do.”

  At the mention of his family, Trace saw Xavi shut down, and it pissed him off. He was leaving tomorrow morning and he didn’t have the option of taking his time, letting Xavi get comfortable with him.

  “I live on a ranch in Texas, called the Crazy Angle. It’s one of the biggest ranches in the country that raises and trains Belgian draft horses. The owner’s name is Graham Conner, and he is one of the fairest employers you could ever find. I need an assistant, and I think you would fit real well in that position.”

  “You want me to work for you?” Xavi’s beautiful grey eyes were wide with surprise.

  “You would be employed by Graham, but you would answer to me.” Trace intended for Xavi to answer to him about everything in his life. But he kept that to himself for now.

  “What would you expect me to do?” Xavi asked.

  Trace knew he was being perverted, but the beautiful little man was sitting not three feet from him and Trace wanted him. His first thought was to say that Trace wanted his lips wrapped around his dick the first thing every morning.

  But what he said was, “I need you to do what you did today. Set up my equipment. Hand the tools to me when needed. You will be handling horses and cleaning up. But most of all, you will be responsible for the paperwork. For each horse I shoe, you have to list the date, what size shoes I use, et cetera. It’s an ongoing battle and Adam, the Forman at the ranch, has even threatened to buy me a laptop or tablet to keep track of everything.”

  “Why wouldn’t you use a computer to keep track of it all?” Xavi tipped his head slightly to the side and scrunched his nose.

  Trace became distracted by how cute Xavi looked, asking that question. Trace found him absolutely adorable.

  “Sweet pea, look at these hands. There is no way I’m going to fight those little keys or whatever you use on them things. I’d rather use a pencil and scribble it all down.”

  Xavi was looking at those big hands, all right. He was imagining them doing all sorts of things his family said were evil. But he didn’t think
they were evil, he thought they were human.

  So far, things had been going pretty well at Silas’s farm for Xavi. But he knew his family would eventually remember that he spent all of those summers here. They would put two and two together with Grandpa helping him and being best friends with Silas. He knew mentally he was strong enough to stand up against them, but physically, it so wasn’t happening. It sucked being the runt of the family.

  Maybe the answer was accepting Trace’s offer. Xavi wanted to go with Trace for more reasons than just working for him. But Xavi knew someone as gorgeous as Trace would never look twice at him.

  “What is included if I accept the job?”

  “Besides a weekly check, you’d have a room in the bunkhouse. Meals are provided, except on Sundays, and after a probationary period you would be offered health insurance.”

  “When would I start?”

  “You would be going with me tomorrow morning.”

  Xavi didn’t have to think twice. “Okay.”

  With that one word, Xavi’s life completely and utterly changed.

  Chapter Three

  Trace had never been so glad to get out of the cramped seats of an airplane and be able to stretch out in his roomy truck. It was a little disconcerting, having to let Xavi drive, but his sore leg was screaming in pain and there was no way he could drive right now. So far, everything had been going pretty smoothly on the trip home, except for his leg. He had the day-after-an-injury syndrome—stiff, sore, and painful.

  He had talked to Silas right after Xavi had left him the night before and received the man’s final approval. He knew Xavi had also gone and talked to Silas as well. Then Trace had called Adam, letting him know he was bringing home his new assistant. Trace had also point-blank told Adam that Xavi was his, and to keep his grubby hands off of him. Adam had just laughed. Trace had said a few choice words and then let Adam know he would be keeping an eye on him.

  “How far until we get to the ranch?” Xavi asked.

  “The ranch house is about ten minutes away. We’ve been on the ranch land for about twenty minutes or so. The Crazy Angle has over fifty thousand acres of land attached to it.”

  “Holy crap, that’s huge!”

  “Yeah, it is. It’s also a really great place to live.”

  “How long have you worked there?” Xavi asked.

  Trace noticed Xavi was talking more and more, and seemed more comfortable since they had left the Winston farm. He thought it was a good time for Xavi to know a bit more about him.

  “I’ve been at the farm for almost ten years now, just after Graham bought the place. Growing up, I learned how to shoe horses from my dad. My two brothers and I were always down at the barn with him. My mom died when I was young, so being at the barn with my dad was the only way he could keep track of us. Now he’s retired and living in a condo in Florida.” Trace had to chuckle. The last time he visited his dad he had spent the whole trip watching older women swarming all over the old guy. Every once in a while he’d let them catch him, too.

  “Are your brothers as big as you?”

  “Titan is two years younger and almost as tall. He’s been working up at a ranch in Montana, saving to start his own ranch someday. My littlest brother Truman is married, has two point five kids, and drives a minivan in Ohio. He’s shorter that I am. I think about six three.”

  “Just how tall are you, anyway?”

  “Ah, sweet pea, I’m just over six foot five.” The hair on Trace’s arms stood up as Xavi ran his eyes up and down the length of his body.

  “I’ve never considered myself a short man at five foot eight, but next to you, I’m scrawny.”

  “I don’t think you’re scrawny, I think you’re just right.” Trace wanted to see how Xavi handled that statement. Trace was planning on making some moves on the little man and thought he better start preparing him.

  Trace Griffin, to some, was a man to be avoided. He was big, tough and could be as ornery as a wild cat when the mood hit him. Though he liked his big oversized black Ford truck, he loved his Harley motorcycle.

  Now he had set his sights on the grey-eyed, black-haired, shy man sitting beside him, and he just hoped Xavi was up for the ride. Trace had found that he could have any man in his bed for one night of hot, steamy sex. But that was all they wanted. No one wanted to take on the huge, sometimes nasty man for the long term. His appetites ran large in every area, food, excitement, partying, and sex. He just hoped Xavi, with his shyness and strict religious upbringing, would stick around for a little while. Maybe even more than a little while.

  Xavi could feel himself flush at Trace’s statement. Xavi wasn’t a stupid man, just painfully shy. After thinking about last night in Trace’s room, he had come to realize that, to his utter amazement, Trace was attracted to him. Unbeknownst to his family, he had actually gone out on a few dates with men over the years and had sex. The question was, could he—and did he want to—take on Trace Griffin? Glancing over at Trace, Xavi took in the long, black hair, tied back in its usual ponytail, and his beautiful light-blue eyes. Tattoos peeked out from under the straining sleeves of his T-shirt. Xavi made a decision, and his answer was yes.

  “Well, I guess it’s a good thing you think I’m all right,” Xavi said. He had tried to say more, but his throat started to close up and there was no way he was going to be able to say anything else. It was a relief to see a ranch in the distance, and from Trace’s instructions, it looked like they were heading right to it.

  Minutes later, they were pulling up to a very large one-story ranch house that sprawled out on either side of a huge, open porch. Large stone columns held up the porch, with its exposed beams and green metal roof. Trace instructed him to stop the truck right in front of the porch.

  “Xavi, we have a small problem and I’m going to need your help. I didn’t get a chance to charge my cell phone last night, so I can’t call anyone and let them know we’re here. My leg is going to support me enough to get me to my bed in the bunk house, but that’s about it after that plane ride.” Trace continued, “I’m sorry, sweet pea, but you’re going to have to go in and let them know we’re here.”

  Xavi’s heart just about stopped. There was no way he was going to be able to go into that strange house and talk to some strange people. He could already feel sweat dampen the back of his shirt as he tried not to start hyperventilating.

  A hand reached over and unsnapped his seat belt. That same hand went around Xavi’s shoulders and pulled him half over the center console between the seats. His head was against Trace’s shoulder with a large hand holding it there. The position was sort of awkward, but it gave Xavi some comfort he needed.

  “I have a cell phone,” he managed to whisper.

  “That would be great, if I knew the numbers, sweet pea. But to me, their numbers are speed dial one, two, and three. At this time of day, everyone is usually out on the ranch somewhere. You should be able to find Ms. Lucy inside, probably cleaning up the lunch dishes. The only other people you might find are Tyler, the owner’s partner, or Graham himself. There is an off chance Adam, the foreman, could be in there, but just tell him we’re here and then ignore him. He doesn’t have anything to say to you that I want you to hear.”

  Xavi tipped his head up and looked at Trace. “Why don’t you want me to listen to the foreman of the ranch?”

  “He’s a flirt and a player. He’ll try to sweet-talk you and then I’ll have to hurt him. I’ve worked here a long time and I like my job, sweet pea. I’d hate to have to start looking for a new one.” Then Trace dipped his head and gave Xavi a kiss. It only lasted a few moments, but Xavi could have sat there in that uncomfortable position forever, if only Trace would have kept kissing him. But he didn’t. Trace took his lips away and started speaking more words that filled Xavi with dread.

  “Now, I want you to go through those wooden front doors and you’ll be in the foyer. Usually we take off our shoes when we enter the house, but you won’t be staying in there long, so don�
�t bother. Go through the foyer and turn left in the living room, you should see the kitchen, right past the dining room.”

  “You can call out from the foyer or find Ms. Lucy in the kitchen. Your choice, sweet pea.” Trace leaned down and kissed Xavi again. This time, his tongue pressed for entrance into Xavi’s mouth. As Trace had barged into his life, his tongue barged in and conquered Xavi’s senses. Xavi let that delicious appendage in, loving how it felt entering his mouth. Tentatively, he touched his own tongue against it and was delighted at the feel of them sliding together. The kiss deepened even more and Xavi found himself being pulled into Trace’s magnetism. He was also being pulled half over the center console. As the sucking kiss continued, Xavi explored the hard muscles under his fingertips. Someday, he wanted to use his tongue and taste the hard nipple he was squeezing right now.

  All too soon, Trace ended the kiss and set Xavi back in his seat. Xavi took a moment to catch his breath and calm down. He knew it was time to go into the house and let everyone know they were here. There were many times in Xavi’s life when his shyness had been crippling. Since living with Silas, he had come a long way. Now Trace was asking him to do something he never would have been able to do just six months ago.

  Without a word, and with a lot of determination, Xavi got out of the truck, walked up to the house, opened the door, and entered the beautiful, sprawling ranch house. Just as Trace had described, he was in the foyer. Turning left, he saw the kitchen and started towards it. All the while, his heart was pounding so hard he thought it was going to jump right out of his chest at any second.

  Xavi had just made it passed the dining area, when an older, small women stepped away from the center island in the kitchen and turned towards him, holding a clear glass bowl. Seeing Xavi, standing just of few feet away, startled her and the bowl slipped out of her hands and shattered on the hard ceramic tile floor.

  “Oh, can I help you?” The woman put her hand to her chest in surprise, but Xavi could see she was taking in his standard cowboy attire of worn jeans, plaid shirt, and boots. At least they were clean, so he hoped he had that going for him and she wouldn’t call the cops.