Xavi's Wild Ride - The Men of the Crazy Angle 2 http://www.bookstrand.com/xavis-wild-ride
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.
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