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

  The Men of the Crazy Angle Ranch 2

  Xavi’s Wild Ride

  Xavi Diaz is on the run from his family. They want to send him to a retreat to “cure” his gayness. Hiding out at his grandfather’s best friend’s ranch, he meets Trace Griffin. Xavi has been watching the huge farrier, but his extreme shyness prevents him from getting any words out. When Trace offers him a job, he’s determined to not only speak to the man, but to get up close and personal.

  Trace loves his job placing himself under two thousand pound animals, shoeing their hoofs. He loves riding his big black motorcycle at high speeds. And he would also love to take Xavi into his bed for more than his usual one night of fast and rough.

  Can an extremely shy man, raised in a very religious family, take on a bad boy who likes living on the edge? Does he even want to? Watch Trace break through Xavi’s walls of protection and watch Xavi teach Trace patience.

  Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 23,122 words

  XAVI'S WILD RIDE

  The Men of the Crazy Angle Ranch 2

  Bellann Summer

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  MANLOVE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove

  XAVI'S WILD RIDE

  Copyright © 2014 by Bellann Summer

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-817-1

  First E-book Publication: June 2014

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

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  DEDICATION

  This one is dedicated to my fans. Thank you for coming along on this wild ride of my adventure into the world of writing.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  About the Author

  XAVI’S WILD RIDE

  The Men of the Crazy Angle Ranch 2

  BELLANN SUMMER

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  Trace Griffin was thoroughly enjoying the sight of the little man’s arm muscles bulging as he lifted the fork full of dirty hay and shit, and pitched it into the cart. He had to admit the muscles weren’t huge on the lean man, but they were fun to watch moving under all that tanned skin. Trace had been watching the man for most of the last few days as he continued to shoe the big draft horses of the Winston farm.

  Trace was getting tired. He had been traveling around to different farms for two weeks now and the last three days were spent shoeing horses for Silas Winston. He was looking forward to going home to the Crazy Angle Ranch tomorrow.

  When he had first arrived and went into the barn with Silas to go over which horses needed his services, he noticed the man everyone called Xavi right away. How could he not? Xavi was everything Trace was attracted to. He was about five eight, with wavy, short, black hair and a pouty mouth that Trace had immediately imagined having stretched around his dick.

  Unfortunately, although Xavi had nodded a greeting to Trace each morning, that was about as close as Xavi would get. From what Trace could see, Xavi kept his head down, didn’t speak to anyone and did his work to the best of his abilities. Yet, the other hands were friendly with the man, engaging in small talk anytime they were near him.

  The horse above Trace shifted, making the metal stand it was resting its hoof on creak.

  “Easy now, buddy, you’re fine,” Trace said. He was trying to finish putting the last shoe on the skittish gelding. Trace knew most of the horses on the different farms that Graham, his boss, sent him to. But Satellite was new to Trace, as well as to the Winston farm.

  Most of the time, when he shod a horse, he would put the horse in cross ties and someone from the farm would hold the horse’s head. This worked well and he usually didn’t have too many problems. Although, there had been some talk about getting him an assistant. Trace could admit it would be nice having a little help, especially with the paperwork. He spent a lot of time with Adam, the Crazy Angle’s foreman, after every trip. Together, with a lot of frustration and maybe a little alcohol, but they managed to decipher what he had written down from each shoeing.

  Looking down at the shoe he was working on, he saw he needed to make a slight adjustment to one side. “Silas, can you hand me the rasp?”

  Satellite shifted again, jerking his head up, pulling at the cross ties. Silas tightened his grip on the halter and stroked the horse’s neck, trying to calm him. Nobody wanted to be near an agitated two-thousand-pound animal.

  “Here now, Satellite, you’re fine. Settle down, now,” Silas said. “Xavi, could get that rasp for Trace? It’s right there on top of the box, n
ext to Satellite’s back leg.”

  The horse tensed again as Xavi neared, but then seemed to calm down. Bent over as he was with the hoof between his legs, Trace was in a somewhat awkward and vulnerable position. He already had a few ideas on how he was going to handle this horse next time he worked on him.

  Xavi had just picked up the rasp and was about to hand it to Trace when two small children burst through the open doors of the barn. At the top of their lungs, they screamed “Grandpa, Grandpa!”

  All hell broke loose. Satellite tore his hoof away from Trace and off of the stand. He then swung his great weight, dancing around wildly. Instinctively Trace knew what was going to happen, and when he saw Satellite’s back hoof shoot out, straight towards Xavi’s hip and abdomen area, Trace didn’t hesitate. Quickly he took a step forward, right in front of the dinner-plate-sized hoof, before it could tear Xavi apart.

  A huge, bright light of pain burst through his thigh as he was thrown into Xavi, both of them hitting the concrete floor and rolling a few feet.

  Trace heard Silas ordering the children to run back to the house by their grandmother as he struggled to calm the distressed horse. Trace lay there on the cold concrete, breathing through the pain radiating from his thigh. Through the slits of his eyes, he saw Xavi appear, hovering above him, and felt a warm hand rest on the middle of his chest. Worried grey eyes surrounded by long, black lashes looked down at him.

  “Are you all right? Should I call an ambulance?” Xavi asked.

  Trace covered the hand on his chest with his, liking how the connection felt. Even though his thigh was on fire, this thing that was going on between them, for the moment, overpowered it.

  “Just give me a minute,” Trace said.

  “I have to check your leg,” Xavi said. “Please, my hand.”

  Trace’s light-blue eyes met worried grey eyes. “All right.”

  Trace wasn’t a fan of letting that hand go, but he knew he had to get off of the cold concrete soon. From past experience, he would be stiffening up real quick. A hot shower, followed by some over-the-counter painkillers and a bed was what he needed. What he wouldn’t give to have Xavi’s tight little body pressed up against him in that bed.

  Xavi gently cupped his hands around Trace’s thigh as far as they could reach. Trace could feel Xavi slowly run his hands along the already-swelling leg, from his knee to his groin. Trace may have hissed in pain from the contact against the damaged muscle, but that didn’t stop his cock from jerking a little at the close proximity of Xavi’s fingers.

  “How is he, Xavi? Do I need to call for an ambulance?” Silas must have finished taking care of Satellite and his grandchildren. Trace could see him standing just behind Xavi.

  “I don’t need an ambulance. Help me up,” Trace ordered.

  Both Xavi and Silas took an arm and pulled him to a sitting position. Trace bit back a groan, as the deeply bruised thigh muscle moved at the change of position. Using his good leg, and with help from the other two men, they managed to get him to his feet. Putting his arms around each man, Trace stood for a moment taking deep, calming breaths, not resting any weight on his injured leg.

  Now that he was upright, he could see that Silas had put Satellite into one of the nearby stalls. The bottom line of the situation was that he was scheduled to fly out in the morning. Satellite needed that last shoe finished and this was going to be his last chance do it, there was no question about it. He knew from past incidents that tomorrow wasn’t going to be a good day between him and his leg.

  “Xavi, could you take that box of tools into the stall with Satellite?” Trace asked. “Silas, I need you to hold Satellite steady, so I can finish shoeing him.”

  “Are you crazy, Trace? At the very least, you should be sitting down,” Silas said.

  “Silas, you don’t want Satellite ruined because of a bad fitting shoe. Now help me over to the stall. It’ll only take a minute.”

  By the time Silas had Trace over to the stall, Xavi had already tied Satellite to one of the tie rings attached to a post and the box full of tools was waiting for him. Silas helped him into the stall and with great care, Trace got into position and lifted Satellite’s hoof onto the hoof stand. With minimum instruction, Xavi handed him everything he needed and Trace finished shoeing the horse to his satisfaction.

  Once he was done, he had Silas walk the horse around so he could see if there were any more adjustments that needed to be made. Trace was happy with what he saw.

  “As usual, you’ve done a fine job with my horses, Trace. I’ll call Graham and have him put me on the schedule for about eight weeks. From what you saw, do you think that would work out?”

  “Yeah,” Trace answered. “Unless you’re going to compete in something special, eight weeks sounds about right.”

  Every six to eight weeks, the metal shoes the big draft horses wore had to be taken off and their hooves clipped down. Almost like a human would clip their fingernails. Then the shoes were adjusted if needed, or just put back on except if the horse was entered in a competition, and then special shoes may be needed. This kept Trace very busy at the Crazy Angle Ranch, with their forty-something horses. He also flew to quite a few ranches west of the Mississippi River and took care of their draft horses.

  Trace noticed Xavi had picked up all the farm’s shoeing tools and put them in the toolbox. The guy didn’t say much, but Trace really liked what he saw, both with the man and his actions. Trace was quickly forming an idea in his head.

  Silas helped Trace to the bunkhouse so he could rest his leg. On the way across the barnyard, Trace decided to see if the idea he was contemplating had any merit.

  “What’s the story on Xavi? Is he just passing through or is he a permanent part of your ranch?” Trace asked.

  “I’ve know you a long time, Trace. You have never asked about anyone before. Is it personal or professional?”

  “Both.”

  Gingerly, Trace navigated up the steps onto the front porch. There were some wooden chairs lined up in a row and Trace carefully lowered himself down onto one. Silas sat in the chair next to his.

  Silas took a moment to look across the yard toward the barn. Absently, his work-worn hand reached into his pocket and took out a toothpick and put it into his mouth. Trace saw him nod slightly, like he had come to a decision.

  “Xavi is the grandson of a dear old friend of mine from Spain who immigrated here back in the forties. A few years after Xavi was born, his grandfather, Xavier, came here and talked to me about his concerns for Xavi. Even as young as Xavi was, Xavier knew he wasn’t like the other boys.”

  Silas looked at Trace for a moment, chewing on that toothpick. “You have to understand that the family is very religious. They all go to church every Sunday and Wednesday, and sometimes on Friday. Xavier asked me way back then, that if Xavi needed a place to go, would I take him in. Of course, I said yes. Xavier is my best friend.”

  Trace had questions, but he could see that Silas wasn’t done telling his story.

  “So, for a few weeks every summer, Xavi came to visit and learn about the big draft horses. As he grew older, he went from a pretty, sunny child, to being quiet and withdrawn. By the time he was a teenager, it would take about three days after he got here before he would say one word. He’s painfully shy and has been taught that how he feels is morally wrong.”

  “I take it his family kicked him out when they found out he was gay?” Trace had heard this story time and again. He hated, that it happened to Xavi.

  “No, they didn’t kick him out. Worse,” Silas answered.

  Trace looked at Silas in surprise. “Worse?”

  “His parents locked him in his bedroom and were going to take him to a retreat that specializes in fixing gays. Xavier saw the pamphlets and the paperwork. He was horrified by what he read in them, describing their procedures to fix a disease that they compared to cancer. He snuck Xavi out of that house, gave him his credit card and sent him here. The problem is that the whole family is no
w looking for him. According to Xavier, Xavi’s dad is making enquiries around to see if anyone has seen him. I’m afraid that Xavi’s father or his two brothers could force him into that place against his will.”

  “He’s legal, isn’t he?” Trace asked

  “He turned twenty-one on his last birthday. But you know that doesn’t mean anything under the pressure a family can put on one of its members.”

  “I’m thinking about offering him the position as my assistant, helping me with shoeing the draft horses,” Trace said.

  “You know, I think he would make a great assistant. Although, traveling around would expose him to more people. That concerns me, because of his family and Xavi being so painfully shy.”

  “Silas, anyone who tried to take Xavi away would have to go through me. And I’d like to see the man who thinks he can best me.” Trace continued, “I think the more Xavi feels safe and comfortable around me, the more he’ll open up.”

  “You know, it might be a good idea that he gets out of here for a while. It’s just a matter of time before his father remembers my friendship with Xavier.” Trace watched that toothpick move from one side of the older man’s wrinkled mouth to the other. The look on his face held a mixture of concern and speculation.

  “Let me talk to Xavi and see what he wants to do,” Trace said.

  “Sounds good. Call me if you make any decisions.”

  The two talked a little more, and then Trace painfully made his way into the bunkhouse to take a shower and lay down for a while. Soon he would talk to Xavi.