Miles' Christmas Roundup (Holiday Hunks Book 2)

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Miles' Christmas Roundup (Holiday Hunks Book 2) Page 3

by Angela Stevens


  He saved the number Cady sent to his phone and rubbed at his chin. Was this a green light from Cady? He’d never got the impression that their little chats ever meant anything to the woman, but he wasn’t sure why she might be sending him her number otherwise.

  A clatter of hooves crossing the yard alerted Miles to his guests’ return. He readjusted his hat and headed off to help Caleb with the horses. It was always all hands on deck when the riders came back. Usually, the guests dismounted and walked straight to dinner, their quota of “experiencing the country life” exhausted as soon as any real work presented itself. But twelve horses needed their tack removed, whether the guests helped or not, and after a hot dusty ride, the horses needed the salt brushed out of their coats before they were fed and watered. There was more tack to be cleaned, and the stables had to be locked up for the night. Thank God, his stepmom handled the guests through dinner because Miles and Caleb rarely got through their chores before nine-thirty.

  Miles fell into a familiar routine alongside Caleb. They never chatted much, each focused on the tasks at hand. As Miles led the last filly into her stall, Caleb leaned over the stable door and watched him brush her down.

  “Bumped into Joe MacMillan on the trail. He said they had a foot of snow up at his place a couple of days ago.”

  MacMillan’s property was at a much higher elevation than the Carmichael’s ranch, but in Miles’ experience Joe’s microclimate served as a good benchmark for the onset of winter. Miles probably only had a handful of weeks left for riding bookings before the weather began to turn near them, too. They’d get another flurry of tourists out around Halloween, but the trails would be closed and the guests that came were more interested in drinking hot cocoa and sitting around campfires than riding.

  “Yeah? Well, August in the mountains is always a crapshoot. Though, I swear the summer season up there is getting shorter.”

  Caleb pushed his hat back on his head and scratched at his hairline. There was barely any resemblance between the two brothers. Miles’ mother had been killed in a riding accident when he was five; Caleb, Nolan, and his two sisters were from Miles’ father’s second marriage. His half-siblings took after the woman currently holding down the fort in the dining room, and sported shades of blonde hair, from the palest yellow through to a dark, dirty-blonde.

  As if that wasn’t all-American enough, his brothers and sisters’ hair had a slight curl to it, too—or in Nolan’s case, a lot of curl—hence the reason the guy liked to keep it buzzed so short. Left to grow, Nolan looked like he was wearing a Shirley Temple wig. Caleb, on the other hand, had a gentle wave that left his hair looking as if it had been tousled by women’s fingers. He grew it longer, and the ladies couldn’t resist it. Miles’ hair was nothing to write home about. The only thing going for it was that it was dark and thick. The nearly ebony color and his rugged features were all inherited from his dad—though from what he could vaguely remember about his mother, he had her gray eyes and long eyelashes. As a kid, he hated his ‘pretty’ feminine eyes, but when he caught on to the fact they were the reason so many women threw themselves at him, he learned to love them and used them to his advantage.

  “So, was she worth it?” Caleb pointed to his own throat, but his eyes settled on a bruise on Miles’ neck. “Aren’t you too old for hickeys?”

  Miles went to the stable window and peered at his reflection. “Shit.” He tugged out a bandanna from his pocket and scrubbed at the mark. When it didn’t budge, he rolled the fabric and tied it round his neck. He’d prefer not to explain that to his step-mother. Turning back to Caleb, he couldn’t help flashing his brother a wide grin. “Let’s just say, we both got something out of it.”

  “If you were a dog, Pa would have had you fixed long ago.” Caleb attempted to look stern but he wasn’t fooling Miles. Caleb wasn’t so squeaky clean, and while his twenty-four-year-old brother didn’t fool around with the horny cougars holidaying around the ranch, the college-aged daughters were fair game.

  “You seeing her again?”

  “Not my style, Caleb, you know that.” That was another way they differed. Miles opted for one-night stands, whereas Caleb liked to entertain the same guest for the duration of their stay. Perhaps the guy wasn’t as jaded as Miles. He suspected that deep down, Caleb still believed there was such a thing as one true love.

  “She okay with that?”

  “Lauren got what she wanted.”

  “And what was that?”

  “To ride a real cowboy, not a fucking schmuck that dresses up like a forties sanitized version of one on the weekends.”

  Caleb laughed. “Oh, man you should have heard that Clayton guy bleating all the way around. For the first ten minutes, he boasted about how riding was in his blood, and there was nothing like feeling the horse between your thighs. Then for the next three hours and fifty minutes, he whined about the chafing around his ball sack.”

  Miles came out of the stall and thumped Caleb on the back. “Just as well that I serviced his wife for him then. He won’t be up for much later.”

  Caleb locked up the stall. “You ever tire of being a lonely old rent-a-dick?”

  Miles didn’t react to Caleb’s comment, but something knotted in his stomach. Yeah, he did, but what was the fucking alternative?

  Half an hour later, Miles took a beer and a steak that he grilled for himself out onto the porch outside his bedroom. The sun went down a while back, but Mother Nature was putting on a show with the stars. The ranch was so remote, you could even see the satellites tracking across the heavens.

  Accompanied by the incessant song of the cicadas, Miles chowed down on his meal and went through the messages on his phone. Soon he found himself rereading the text from Cady, and the next moment, he pressed call.

  4

  Cady

  Alexandria, Virginia

  Cady dabbed at her eyes with one hand and pulled another tissue from the box with the other. The apartment was in darkness, save for the glow from her Kindle. A big fat tear slipped down her cheek and she slid her finger across the screen to turn the page. God, she loved these cowboy romances by her favorite author, they always tied her insides in knots. Laughing out loud one minute and sniveling the next, they tugged at her heart and gave her all the feels.

  A buzz made her look up, and the screen of her new phone activated as it vibrated across the couch’s arm. Still engrossed in her story, she answered it without stopping reading. At least it wouldn’t be Paul—she was already loving having two phones. Her work phone was off and languishing on the counter in the kitchen.

  “Hi,” just as she answered, a sob crept up her throat, and she swiped another tear away.

  “Cady? You okay?”

  She froze at the sound of Miles Carmichael’s voice. How the hell did he get her number? Cady was really careful about giving out any personal information, in general, and this was a new phone for Christ’s sake!

  “Miles?” She sat up and straightened her clothes. Halfway through brushing her hair out of her face, she realized how stupid she was being. It was not as if the guy could see through the damn phone. “Um, is there something the matter?”

  “No, but are you okay? You sounded upset when you picked up.”

  She laughed. “No, I’m fine. I was reading.”

  “And it made you cry?”

  Her cheeks heated a little at her own foolishness. “Books always make me cry.”

  “Then why read them if they make you sad?”

  “They don’t make me sad, they make me weep. There’s a difference.”

  “There is?” Miles sounded utterly confused. “I will never understand women.”

  “Um, Jules isn’t here, do you want to leave a message?” Cady grabbed a pen and flipped over an envelope haphazardly thrown on the coffee table and prepared to take a message, but Miles seemed hesitant.

  “Actually, I wasn’t looking for Jules.”

  “Y-you weren’t?” Her heart clattered against her chest and t
he skin on her arms turned to gooseflesh.

  Miles Carmichael had the sexiest drawl, and she’d long since fantasized about it. She bet his voice matched his looks, too. Juliet had a picture of her family on her bureau in her room and Cady had scrutinized it while her friend was at work, trying to gleam some snippets of information about the ruggedly handsome Miles Carmichael. From what Juliet had told her, he was the eldest of the Carmichael clan. The picture was a little small, and the groups' features indistinct, but Cady put him in his late twenties, and from the figure he cut in those jeans, he was still a drool-worthy, hot-hunk of a guy. Plus, at least in the picture, he wore a cowboy hat—and didn’t that make her go weak in the knees!

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I got your text and…”

  “Text?”

  “About your new number.”

  Cady almost died of embarrassment as she realized what must have happened. Ages ago, Juliet had given her Miles’ number in case of emergencies. Cady had never used it and, in fact, she totally forgot she had it in her contacts. When she transferred her address book, his number must have been included in the blanket text she sent out.

  “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t even think. I just fired off the change of number thing to everyone in my contacts.”

  Miles laughed, and the rumbling chuckle made her stomach roll over. Damn, how did he make her feel this way just with his voice?

  “So, I was in your address book? That’s funny, I don’t remember giving you my number.”

  “Um, Jules gave it to me… for emergencies.”

  Things went quiet again on the other end of the phone and she felt a little foolish. “So, how’s things up at the ranch? Business still good?”

  From then on, the conversation just flowed, and it was like they called each other every night. Before she knew it, Cady looked up at the clock and saw they’d been talking for almost two hours. She stifled a yawn and that rumbling laugh came from Miles, again.

  “Lord, I must have talked your ears off, I should let you go, it must be so late on your end.”

  “It's almost one-thirty, but it was lovely talking to you. I hope your mare’s foal is born soon. You’ll have to send me a photo. I guess, I should go as I have to put up with Paul tomorrow.”

  “Well, don’t let him ride roughshod over you. He couldn’t cope without you, so make sure he knows you are not going to tolerate his tantrums.”

  After she ended the call, a warm glow settled over her. Even though it was just a phone call, Cady couldn’t remember the last time she enjoyed herself so much. As they’d moved from topic to topic, she had felt at total ease with the man, which was something she hadn’t felt in ages with any guy.

  Since Ross McCoogan had taken objection to a comment she had written on a Facebook page—something so innocuous, she couldn’t even quite remember what she had said that riled him up so much—he had followed her into various groups, made fake accounts pursuing her, and even infiltrated her friends on Facebook. From there, he tracked her down on Twitter and Instagram, making her online life hell, before turning up at her home in Seattle. For an hour and a half, she’d been trapped in her apartment with him making threats through her locked door. Eventually, the police arrived and carted him off. The whole thing was a nightmare, and resulted in her being forced to take out a restraining order, and eventually triggering her to flee across the country to start again in a new state—one as far away from Washington as she could get.

  Picking up her Kindle, she headed to her room. Perhaps she should make more of an effort to put the whole McCoogan thing behind her. She’d spent too long being crippled with anxiety, looking over her shoulder, and thinking he might turn up at any time. Cady knew it was irrational; the guy had been sectioned soon after and she was pretty sure his behavior had been down to a manic episode. She doubted he even remembered who she was.

  Ordinarily, Cady would have been wary of trying to sleep after her mind had wandered to McCoogan because she was bound to have a nightmare and wake up in a cold sweat.

  But tonight, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and instead of an anxiety-ridden night, her dreams were full of a rugged guy wearing tight jeans and a battered cowboy hat. He tipped his hat when he greeted her, and held her hand as they walked through wildflower-filled pastures. Then, in the hot sun, he stripped off his shirt, bunched it in his pocket, mounted a snorting black stallion, and lifted her in front of him. With his arms and legs cocooning her, she leaned back into his hard chest and they rode off into the sunset.

  * * *

  Late September

  “Oh, God stop it, Miles you’re killing me. The guy actually got on the horse backwards? Seriously, how do you even cope with these guests!”

  “I find a couple of beers help… that and taking bets on who falls off first.”

  Over the last six weeks, Cady found herself talking to Miles more and more. What started out as a random call after accidentally sending her number to him, had recently turned into daily catch-ups. With the two-hour time difference, she often found herself chatting to him late at night, when she really should be in bed.

  Miles generally finished working around nine at night, and it seemed he’d pop the top off a beer and call her up so they could share their day with each other.

  A couple of times, she’d rung him… though she was always nervous that she might be interrupting him or encroaching on his down time. The guy worked long hours, getting up before six, and his days off were scant.

  Her hours were still erratic, too. After the initial few days of turning off her phone after leaving work, Paul got wise to her strategy and began calling the landline instead. Eventually, she found that turning off her phone wasn’t an option and now she was back at his beck and call. Still, after fraught days dealing with Paul’s unreasonableness, it was always a delight to round off the night de-stressing with Miles.

  “So, did you broach the subject of a raise with Paul?”

  “Um, nope, not yet. I’m trying to find the right moment. There is always one crisis or another going on.”

  “Cady, that is the right time. You lay it on him mid-crises and if he refuses, you tell him to sort his own fucking mess out.”

  The first few times that Miles had cussed over the phone kind of put Cady on edge. For some reason it triggered memories of McCoogan and the foul things he called her on social media. But it wasn’t long before she realized Miles didn’t even know he used such colorful language, and there was certainly no threat that accompanied his words. Now, she actually kind of liked it, and found it colored in his character for her. Everything about him—his appearance in that one picture in Juliet’s room, to the gravelly baritone that dropped F-bombs all over the place, just made him seem that much more genuine… and in a strange way, it made him sound even sexier.

  As Miles continued to advise her on how to handle Paul, she found herself lost in his mid-western drawl, day dreaming of a day when she might actually meet him. Yeah, like that was ever going to happen! He was so far away and tied to the ranch, and she was being treated like Cinderella, working for the ugly step-boss, who would certainly not be cool with her taking any time off to jet across country to meet her prince.

  Even if she did, Cady wondered if it might just hinder the friendship they had developed over the phone. Her romantic image of a rustic cowboy couldn’t possibly live up to her expectations. Besides, she was pretty sure the handsome Miles Carmichael would be thoroughly disappointed in her.

  A few days ago, Cady was probing Juliet for information on her brother. She was trying to be subtle about it, as for some reason, she had decided not to tell her roommate that she was talking regularly to Miles. So, during a rare night of them being home together, she had initiated a conversation about families.

  Juliet had a large family, with a sister and three brothers. Cady was surprised to hear that Miles was actually Juliet’s half-brother, and that he was thirty-four. Hmm, yet another reason this te
lephone friendship they had wouldn’t translate into a face-to-face one. They were almost different generations! Juliet also let slip that Miles was divorced and had shown Cady a picture of a long-legged, very sophisticated looking blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman who could have easily been on the cover of a magazine. Even though she had no reason to be jealous, Cady couldn’t help but take an instant dislike to the female.

  Honestly, it was just another red flag to this man, but for whatever reason, Cady felt relieved that he wasn’t still married, and for some reason she felt even more attracted to him. But realistically, Cady couldn’t compete with Miles ex-wife—even if that beautiful woman had been as much of a bitch as Juliet reported.

  Cady might not have that much experience when it came to men, but she knew enough to understand that most had a type when it came to picking partners. While she and Miles had hit it off over long distance calls, she was pretty sure if he knew what she looked like she wouldn’t even be close to his ideal woman.

  5

  Miles

  Fountain, Colorado: December 15th

  Fuck.” Miles cursed as the bale he was transferring to the stall fell apart, dumping straw all over his pristine stable floor.

  He grabbed a pitchfork and began forking it into the stall next to him. His favorite mare, Miss Molly, watched him from the ring she was tethered to. The pretty American paint she’d foaled in early September nestled beside her, peeking through its mother’s legs, curious about what Miles was doing. He brushed away the final bits of stray bedding and made a clicking sound with his tongue. The foal left the safety of his mother, and on gangly legs, sauntered over to Miles. Taking an apple from his pocket, he bit into it and pulled off a chunk. Spitting it into his hand, he offered it to the foal. The little guy sniffed it cautiously, curling his lips back as he tried to decide whether to eat it or not. Miles used his phone to take a photograph as he waited patiently for the animal to make up its mind. He’d been trying to get a good picture for weeks, but the foal was too bashful, and Miles had ended up with a lot of blurred shots.

 

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