by Tara Rose
Passion Peak, Colorado 4
Chasing Felicity
Pastry chef Felicity Featherstone falls hard for Dom Maverick Orantes, but he’s not the only man pursuing her. Paranormal investigator Kane Easton arrives in town in search of fake ghost hunter Trace Coleman. He makes no bones about his plans to leave once he’s exposed the man, but Felicity can’t resist Kane’s charm.
Maverick Orantes loved once and lost. He’s reluctant to give his heart away again until he meets Felicity. But Kane has stolen her affections as well, and Maverick realizes she wants and needs them both. As his uncle’s involvement with Trace Coleman’s illegal activities is revealed, Maverick needs both Felicity’s love and Kane’s alliance.
Kane Easton comes to Passion Peak from Connecticut to exact revenge on Trace Coleman for what the man did to his family. But he must leave town once that’s done because of his family and financial obligations. However, if he does, he’ll leave behind the only woman he’s ever truly loved.
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 73,705 words
CHASING FELICITY
Passion Peak, Colorado 4
Tara Rose
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
CHASING FELICITY
Copyright © 2013 by Tara Rose
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-705-2
First E-book Publication: September 2013
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2013 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.
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Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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DEDICATION
To David and Nicole. Without you both, my life is meaningless. I love you.
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
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
About the Author
CHASING FELICITY
Passion Peak, Colorado 4
TARA ROSE
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
Felicity Featherstone shaded her eyes against the late morning sun as she peered west on Juniper Street in downtown Passion Peak, Colorado. The faint strains of the Passion Peak Cougars Marching Band fight song had just reached her ears, which meant the rescheduled Labor Day parade was about to begin.
“I just love parades, don’t you?” She glanced to her right at Maverick Orantes, still unable to believe he’d asked her to watch the parade with him today. She’d only met him five days ago on Labor Day at Pacos Farms, the alpaca ranch on the southwest end of town owned by the Danbury family.
Wes Danbury, currently standing on her left between Dalton Metcalf and Summer Andrews, one of her best friends, had thrown the party for friends because the parade had been rained out. Maverick had served as DJ. He was Dalton’s cousin, and although Felicity had learned that he’d been living in Passion Peak for some time now, no one saw much of him. She hadn’t known of his existence until Monday.
He glanced down at her, and Felicity smiled into his dark eyes. He was seriously one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. He needed a shave, but the dark stubble on his chin made her nipples tingle as she imagined rubbing them against it. His cowboy hat only added to the image of rugged bad boy, her favorite kind of man.
“What specifically do you like about them?” he asked.
“The floats.” She laughed. “Oh, I know they’re cheesy and all that, but I love seeing how creative people can get with tissue paper and cardboard. It reminds me of some of the mock-ups we made in school for pictures to promote the college.”
“But now you make real desserts, right?” He winked at her, and Felicity bit her lip. Those dark eyes gleamed with mischief, and as he turned to watch the marching band approach, she let her gaze drift over his chambray shirt and jeans, down to his dusty boots, and back up again. The clothes couldn’t hide his muscles. For just one peek at his naked body, she’d trade a week’s worth of the sweet bread she made as a pastry chef at The Cranberry Roost.
She leaned close so he could hear her answer, but really it was to inhale his musky, natural scent. No cologne for this cowboy. He smelled like soap and hard work. “I make desserts and the
sweet bread that’s served with every meal.”
The band was right in front of them now, and they were loud. Maverick had to lean in even closer, and his warm breath tickled her neck. His lips were so close that Felicity had to fight with every ounce of self-control she had not to simply kiss him and see what happened. “I love the sweet bread at The Cranberry Roost. Are you telling me that you make that?”
She nodded. “Every night I work. I’ll save you some for the next time we see each other.” And feed it to you while naked. She didn’t remember seeing him in there, but then again, she only caught glimpses of the patrons every night. He was a Metcalf cousin, after all. He probably did a lot of things with them that wouldn’t cross paths with Felicity and the crowd she hung out with.
“That sounds like an invitation I can’t refuse.”
“My next night off is Thursday. You busy?” Felicity wasn’t one to mince words or play coy. There wasn’t time in life for silly games.
He stared at her with a grin on his face, and in his dark eyes was a mixture of surprise and delight. So far, so good. “Ah…no, not really. What did you have in mind?”
Oh, that question opened up all sorts of possibilities, but she reined in her unrelenting horniness for a couple of seconds. She didn’t really know him. There was time before Thursday to get more information from Summer, whom she assumed was now close enough to Dalton to find out the scoop on his cousin. But for right now, she needed to play it cool.
“Ever go hiking on the peaks? I don’t mean too high. There’s snow up there already. But there’s a trail that leads up a few hundred feet, just north of Rio Blanco Lake. The snow isn’t down that far yet, and it’s not too steep on the trail. I could bring along food, including the sweet bread, and we could have a picnic.”
“That sounds perfect. I’d love to.”
She had no idea what he did all day long, but assumed he had a job. “I guess I didn’t even ask if you can take off work during the day.”
“I can. I do IT for my uncle Leland, but he pays no attention to when I come and go.”
“How wonderful would that be? I punch a time clock.” She laughed, because she didn’t want him to think she was bitching about working or her job. She loved what she did, but John Cameron, the owner of The Cranberry Roost, ran a tight ship.
He shrugged and glanced toward the parade route as the Rodeo Dancers came into view. They were a local dance team that competed in several states, and every little girl in Passion Peak wanted to be part of them. Felicity had no natural sense of rhythm, so she’d never bothered hounding her parents to let her audition, like most of her friends had done.
The dancers moved past them, performing a complicated drill to a blues number playing from a loudspeaker on the tractor rolling behind them, and Felicity enjoyed the sight of Maverick moving his hips to it. “Do you like that kind of music?” she asked.
“I love all music. Always wanted to be one of those singers in a country bar, you know?”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shrugged again. “Sometimes things just don’t work out the way we want them to.”
His voice held such a note of sadness that she glanced away for a second, making a mental note to ask him more about his ambitions on Thursday. It’s not like he was too old to pursue such a career if he really wanted to. He couldn’t be much older than she was at thirty-six.
“Do you play guitar as well?” She could easily picture him sitting on a wooden stool in a dusty bar, wearing that cowboy hat and holding a six string.
He nodded. “I have an old Gibson model from 1978.”
“Will you play and sing for me sometime?” And I’ll swoon at your feet and give you anything you ask for.
“Sure.” They stared into each other’s eyes for long moments, and Felicity only looked away when she heard someone remark on the float going by. Miss Passion Peak was sitting on top of a fake mountain that had been constructed on the flatbed, and Summer had said something about it looking like a volcano. Felicity snickered as an image of the volcano erupting with Miss Passion Peak on top of it raced through her mind.
When the parade ended, Maverick leaned across her and Summer to say something to his cousin that Felicity didn’t hear, and then he turned his attention toward her. “Do you have to work today?”
“Unfortunately. But I don’t have to be there until four.”
“Want to take a look at the craft booths with me?”
She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and smiled up at him. “I would love to. I don’t think I have quite enough Sleepy Cat merchandise yet.”
Maverick chuckled. “I’m afraid I don’t pay attention to all that. You’ll have to refresh my memory on the legend.”
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll let Mason, Mancie, or Nevada tell you.” Felicity steered him toward the Legend of Sleepy Cat Peak tent, which now seemed to be a permanent fixture on Juniper Street. They used to have it set up only when it wasn’t snowing, but it had been there in April when over a foot of snow covered Passion Peak. Felicity couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t spotted Mason Ruiz sitting in a folding chair behind the tables of paraphernalia. She didn’t think he ever went home, wherever home was.
His daughter Mancie and her son Nevada were less permanent fixtures, however. In fact, as they crossed the street and approached the tent, Felicity struggled to remember when she’d last seen Nevada. He was one of those kids who had been in and out of school, and then finally Felicity had heard that Mancie was homeschooling him. But Mancie herself wasn’t exactly known for staying in town very long, either. Both she and Nevada lived mysterious lives that included them being away for extended periods of time.
“Mason, have you met Maverick Orantes? He’s Dalton Metcalf’s cousin, on his mother’s side.”
“Nice to meet you. Welcome to Passion Peak.” Mason’s sharp, dark eyes regarded Maverick.
“I’ve actually been here for a while. Just don’t get out much.”
“I was telling Maverick that you could explain the legend to him better than I can.”
“Sure thing. What have you heard so far?”
Maverick picked up a pamphlet with the logo on front. “I like these colors.”
“Thanks,” said Nevada. “I designed the current logo.”
Felicity studied Nevada’s face. He was younger than her, but not by too much. He had the same look as his mother and grandfather of time spent outdoors breathing clean, mountain air. His aura was unhurried, like theirs, but there was something almost feral in the way his gaze shifted about, from Felicity to Maverick, and then to scanning the residents milling up and down Juniper Street, as though he were watching for predators. Or was it prey he was looking for?
Felicity crossed her arms as a breeze washed over her. The day was warm, but soon the nights would turn cool. She was being ridiculous where Nevada was concerned. The poor guy had led the life of a wanderer, from what she’d heard. He was entitled to be a bit wary of people.
“So,” said Maverick, turning the pamphlet over in his hands, “a cat gets pissed off every spring when the snow melts and comes down from Sleepy Cat Peak to wreak havoc on the town? That’s the legend?”
Mancie chuckled, but Nevada merely narrowed his dark eyes. “Not exactly. When the snow melts earlier than usual, the cat is awoken from his slumber. That doesn’t happen every year.”
Felicity swallowed hard. Nevada spoke of the legend she’d heard a hundred times as though it were personal. She’d heard both Mason and Mancie get riled up about it, but never with such a warning tone to their voice. Nevada almost sounded defensive, as though Maverick had poked fun at him and not the legend.
The corners of Maverick’s mouth turned up. “But it happened this year, right?”
“That’s right,” said Mason. “And look what’s going on with that false ghost hunter.”
Felicity and Maverick exchanged a glance. Mason had a good point, although Felicity would be hard-pressed to beli
eve that a large cat who was said to be the embodiment of the snow that covered Sleepy Cat Peak, the twin to Passion Peak, was to blame for Trace Coleman being back in town.
“Dalton said he’s been here before,” said Maverick, his tone dismissive. “He said he’s just some nutcase who’s left a trail of pissed-off homeowners across the country.”
“Trace Coleman is a dangerous man.”
Even Mason and Mancie stared at Nevada as though they weren’t sure how to react. Felicity had the feeling they weren’t used to him talking quite so much.
“He’s brought evil with him this time. It won’t be long before it comes to light.” Nevada turned his dark gaze directly toward Maverick, and Felicity shivered again, although she wasn’t sure why. “And it will involve your cousin’s family.”
“Okay,” said Mason, stepping in front of his grandson, “I see a lot of people are starting to come this way, so can I help you folks with anything else today?”
Felicity had never seen Mason deliberately try to steer talk away from the Sleepy Cat Legend. He’d stand in his tent all day and talk your ear off if you were willing to listen. She picked up a delicate wind chime featuring the logo, while out of the corner of her eye she watched Mancie take Nevada aside and speak to him softly. “Is this new, Mason?”
“Yes. Rowena Whitney bought one last month. We only have a few, but we’ll be making more if they sell well.”
“You made this?” Felicity held it up to the light and watched the sun catch the leaded glass, casting prisms on the pavement at her feet. It would be perfect in her kitchen window that faced south.
