The Belt Buckle Ranch Collection, Volume 1 (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

by Olivia Black

  When he finally arrived, Jackson ran into the giant glass and metal building. He pushed the button for the elevator over and over again, begging the stupid thing to hurry up. The doors opened and Jackson slid in, pushing the button for the top floor. Frustration pounded through his system and he wanted to lose his cool, but managed to keep calm. The doors opened on a ding and Jackson rushed to the office at the end of the hall.

  “Hi,” he panted. “I’m Jackson. I’m here to see Mr. Braxton. I have an appointment.”

  “You had an appointment, sir. I’m sorry but your thirty-minute slot was over fifteen minutes ago. You’ll have to reschedule.”

  “Please. I’ve had a rotten morning. I need to see Mr. Braxton. I’ve been working on this project for weeks,” he pleaded with the secretary, also known as Mr. Braxton’s guard.

  The decision for the new museum was supposed to be made by the end of the week. He really needed to get inside the door. His whole life would change with this project. The name Jackson Murphy would finally be attached to something amazing. He wouldn’t be a gopher or assistant to one of the other architects.

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head, but Jackson knew she didn’t really care. “He’s booked for three months solid.”

  Exhaling, Jackson’s shoulders dropped. “Will you at least give this to him with my apologies?” He handed over his plans and she reluctantly took them, placing all his hard work on the corner of her desk. “Have a nice day.” Turning on his heel, Jackson left.

  The sound of something heavy falling into the trashcan broke his heart, but he didn’t turn around to check and see if the secretary trashed his hard work. When he reached the elevator he pressed the button and leaned against the wall. He was no longer in a hurry. The bell dinged and he shuffled his feet. When he reached the fourth floor, Jackson made his way to the cubicle he would be living in for the rest of his life.

  “Hey, how did it go?” his cubicle buddy, John Lewis asked.

  “It didn’t.” Jackson exhaled, sitting down. “I missed my appointment.”

  “What? Why?” John asked, looking confused.

  The man knew how hard that Jackson had worked on his plan. He’d been working twelve- to fourteen-hour days for weeks—preparing, fine-tuning, and practicing his presentation. Placing his face in his hands, he groaned. All that work down the drain.

  “I just got a bad start this morning.” Jackson still couldn’t believe that he’d missed the appointment.

  “I’m sorry, man.” John gripped his shoulder in a friendly, supportive gesture, and Jackson could only shrug. “There will be other opportunities. I know that doesn’t help right now though, but you’ll get it. You’re talented.” John smiled sympathetically before going to his own cubicle across the way.

  Jackson swiveled his chair and turned on his computer. He watched as it came to life, stuck inside his own head. He couldn’t concentrate, his dreams dissolving inside his mind.

  “You know what?” He stood up and looked over at John. “I’m going to head out. I’m not feeling good. Can you please tell the boss that I headed home?”

  “Yeah, no problem, I’ll tell him you looked like hell.” John winked and Jackson shoved his hands in his pockets and left the building.

  Jackson didn’t stop to think until he was parked in front of his apartment building. He leaned his head back and wished it was possible to start the day over again. He’d been in a slump lately. He was bored. What the hell am I going to do? Jackson shook his head. He couldn’t do anything at this point. It was too late. Today was his day to bitch, moan, and complain. Tomorrow, he would brush off the seat of his pants and figure out his next move.

  When he was about to get out of his SUV, Jackson remembered the manila envelope. Reaching down, he picked it up and ripped the top open. Jackson pulled out a pile of paperwork and his brows furrowed. The piece of paper on top was his birth certificate, followed by legal documents, cash, and a plane ticket. What the hell?

  As he continued to read, his world started to unravel. No, no, no, no. It has to be a lie. Grabbing his phone, Jackson called his parents’ house. His heart hammered in his chest as he waited, impatiently.

  “Hi, honey,” his mom’s voice came through the phone. She was always so happy when she heard from him and Jackson wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation.

  “Hi, Mom. Uh…listen…a private investigator came to my place this morning,” he shared, and she was silent. “Mom, are you still there?”

  “Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I’m just going into the kitchen.”

  “This man, he gave me an envelope and I just opened it. Mom, I need you to be honest with me. The papers say that some man named, William Rickett, is my father. Is that true?” he asked.

  “Of course not,” she scoffed, but Jackson knew there was more. “Did William Rickett raise you? No. Do you even know who that man is? No. Your dad is Greg.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. I want to know if William Rickett is my biological father, because according to this paperwork, he is.” Jackson started shaking because he knew the answer already.

  “What does that man want?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  “He’s sick,” Jackson murmured. According to the paperwork the man didn’t have long to live. His last wish was to meet Jackson. “He sent a plane ticket and cash with directions to a ranch in Colorado.”

  “You can’t go there. It would break Greg’s heart. Jackson, it was a mistake that I made a long time ago. You weren’t the mistake. It was my fault. I had an affair. I only had a moment with William and a lifetime with Greg. Please, just pretend you never saw those papers. Don’t do this, don’t bring up the past,” she begged and Jackson could only shake his head.

  “You need to be honest with Dad. You’ve kept this secret for thirty-six years, not me. A man is dying and he wants to meet me. I can’t ignore that.” Jackson wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he trashed the papers.

  “William was a user and a playboy. If he’s asking for you to finally meet him then he wants something from you,” his mom warned.

  Jackson paused, letting her words sink it. “Uh…yeah. He wants to meet me before he dies.”

  “You’re going to go, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I am. Greg is my dad. He raised me. I love him. But, I can’t turn my back on this man. He wants to meet me. He’s dying. I couldn’t live with myself if I missed this chance.” Jackson grabbed the envelope and got out of his car, walking toward his apartment. He needed to call his work and pack a bag.

  “Be safe,” she simply said before hanging up.

  Jackson stared at his phone for a minute before pocketing it and walking into his little one-bedroom apartment. He was having a hard time digesting everything that had just happened. His mom always doted on him. She was loving and kind, but his dad, Greg, gave him the cold shoulder and treated him with indifference. Maybe he knew that I wasn’t his son.

  Chapter 2

  Jackson had never flown in class before. He didn’t know William Rickett, but the man obviously had money. The private plane left Los Angeles and landed at a small airfield in Telluride, Colorado. When the plane touched down, he was escorted off right before the plane taxied to take off once more. He barely stepped into the small airport when a gorgeous man stood up, holding a cowboy hat between large hands.

  Jackson almost swallowed his tongue as he looked the man up and down. Damn! Welcome to Colorado, Jackson. The man was older, with salt and pepper in his dark hair. He had impossibly wide shoulders that tapered down to a lean waist. Thick, meaty thighs were encased in denim, and on his feet, a pair of authentic cowboy boots. Are you goin’ my way, cowboy?

  “Jackson Murphy?” the deep voice asked and Jackson jerked to a stop, his mouth dropping open. “My name is Wyatt Thompson. I’m the foreman over at the Belt Buckle Ranch. I’m here to take you there.”

  “Hi.” Jackson stuck his hand out and the gorgeous man took hi
s, holding it for longer than necessary. It made Jackson wonder if perhaps the man might be interested in hooking up while he was in town. “Thank you for picking me up.”

  “I’m parked right outside.” He tilted his head and Jackson nodded. “Can I take your bag?”

  “Sure, I guess.” He shrugged. If Wyatt wanted to carry his bag, Jackson was more than willing to let him.

  “Follow me.” He grabbed the bag and Jackson did just that, staring at his ass the whole way to the older truck.

  Wyatt opened the passenger-side door and Jackson climbed. He tossed Jackson’s bag into the extended cab and closed Jackson’s door before getting into the driver’s side. What a gentleman. Jackson was impressed. He’d never been on a date with a man that opened his door. He was liking cowboys more and more.

  “I hope you had a nice flight,” Wyatt said, starting the truck engine.

  “Yes, thank you. I’ve never flown on a private plane before,” Jackson told him.

  “It was all William’s idea. He made sure everything was planned out.” Wyatt looked as if he wanted to say more, but tightly seal his lips in a straight line.

  “That was nice of him.” Jackson wanted to ask questions, he had so many rolling around inside his mind. “How long have you been the foreman?”

  “I met William many years ago. He gave me the foreman position when I moved to the area from Wyoming. It’s been…wow…it’s been about fifteen years now.” Wyatt stared out the windshield and Jackson took the opportunity to study him closer.

  “I want to thank you for coming out. You’re the first one to arrive. If there is anything you need, please feel free to ask me. I…” He paused and Jackson’s brows furrowed in confusion.

  “What do you mean when you say I’m the first one to arrive?” he asked, feeling a little confused.

  “William was a good man. You see, he’d always dreamed about owning this ranch and he kept his mind focused solely on that until it was too late. He had a lot of regrets, but you should know that he was a great friend.” Wyatt’s voice was full of sadness and Jackson wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  “Wait. You keep saying ‘had’ and ‘was.’ Why?” he asked.

  “He passed away.” Wyatt cleared his throat before continuing. “The cancer spread too fast. He didn’t get the help he needed in time.” He paused before whispering, “I’m sorry.”

  Jackson sat rigid inside the truck cab, his mouth slightly open, his mind a mess. He didn’t make it in time. How was that even possible? Staring out the side window, he watched the scenery pass. He wouldn’t be meeting his biological father after all. He had so many questions for the man that would now go unanswered. He was hoping to find some commonality. He wanted to see if he looked like the man, since he didn’t resemble either of his parents.

  He was sad and he didn’t even know anything about William. The poor man reached out to him, but it was too late. He was too late. Jackson wasn’t sure if he should even be heading to the ranch with Wyatt. Was he supposed to stay there? Was there going to be a funeral? Shaking his head, he tried to figure out what his next step should be when it dawned on him that Wyatt hadn’t answered his question.

  “I’m not his only biological child, right? Is that what you meant?” Jackson peeked over at Wyatt and the man merely nodded. “How many are there?”

  Maybe his mom was right. The man was a playboy and got around. He didn’t voice that, though. He didn’t want to speak ill of the dead, especially since Wyatt obvious cared for the man.

  “There are five boys, including you. When William realized he was out of time, he hired a PI and wrote out his last will and testament. His final thoughts were of you and the others. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling. I wish he would’ve had more time to meet you. When the other men arrive, the neighbor and executor—Trent Weston—will read it out to you all,” Wyatt informed him, and Jackson was surprised. His bio dad had five sons. Wow.

  “Why aren’t you the executor?” Jackson asked him.

  After fifteen year of working at the ranch, it seemed unfair that Wyatt wasn’t in charge. The older man seemed to really care about William.

  “I didn’t believe he was going to die, so he chose someone else.” Wyatt shrugged as if it was no big deal, but Jackson wasn’t buying it.

  * * * *

  Wyatt held the steering wheel with one hand and tried to relax back against the bench seat. He stared out the windshield, enjoying the silence as he drove. He hadn’t meant to share so much information with Jackson before reaching the Belt Buckle Ranch. He didn’t want to spook the man or send him running back toward the airport. Originally, he’d wanted to speak to the five men together, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from answering Jackson’s questions. He was just so easy to talk to.

  When he first spotted Jackson Murphy, he couldn’t believe the young man was so good looking. Short dark-brown hair, milk chocolate eyes, and plump lips that begged to be nibbled on, and dimples that had Wyatt groaning internally. The tight jeans and T-shirt outlined everything, leaving nothing to Wyatt’s overactive imagination. He’d pictured the man stripped down naked and in his bed within seconds of seeing him. And now he might be living at the ranch with him for a full year. Although Jackson didn’t know that bit of information yet.

  The attraction was instantaneous—lust at first sight. His cock perked up and took notice, waving at the younger man behind his zipper. His first thought was hot damn, quickly followed by what the hell are you thinking? That’s William’s son, you old pervert. He’d just turned fifty and although he was in great shape, Jackson was too damn young for him.

  It’s not his age, you idiot. He’s William’s son. You can’t fantasize about having him.

  Shaking his head, Wyatt did the best he could to push the dirty thoughts away. It was next to impossible since he was stuck inside his truck with the guy. Jackson’s cologne was driving him crazy. Rolling down the window, Wyatt stuck his head out, needing the cool, fresh air to calm his libido.

  “Do I smell that bad?” Jackson asked, breaking the silence, and Wyatt cursed inside his head.

  “Uh…no…it’s not that.” Wyatt cleared his throat and rolled the window back up.

  “What is it, then? Did I wear too much cologne? Is it giving you a headache?” Jackson asked.

  It was tough for Wyatt to want to keep his distance when the young man seemed so genuine and kind. He wasn’t angry or hateful toward William, and he was a little surprised. William seemed to think that all five men would curse and hate him. Granted, Jackson was the first to come into town.

  “I just like the fresh air on my face, that’s all.” Wyatt blurted out the easy excuse for his actions.

  “You like to be outdoors, huh?” Jackson asked.

  “Yeah.” Wyatt chuckled. “This is what I consider the big city.” He nodded toward the small town as they drove through. “There is nothing that compares to being outside and working on the ranch.”

  Jackson laughed at that, and Wyatt glanced over to stare at his exposed dimples. “The big city? You should probably stay away from Los Angeles then. You would hate it there.”

  “I don’t see myself ever leaving the ranch. At least, I don’t want to leave the ranch.” He whispered the last sentence, hoping that Jackson didn’t hear his muffled words.

  There were stipulations in William’s will. If his sons refused to stay on the ranch together and work, it could be put up for sale. Wyatt didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t have another home to go to and he was moving past his prime. He just hoped that all the men were as easygoing as Jackson seemed to be.

  “It’s not much further now,” Wyatt told him.

  Chapter 3

  When Wyatt pulled off the main round, Jackson sat up a little straighter as concrete gave way to gravel. They passed under a large wooden sign that read Belt Buckle Ranch, and he found himself smiling. Large mountains set up the backdrop for the most beautiful place Jackson had ever seen. The land was gre
en and lush, trees and open space as far as the eye could see. It was nothing like what he was used to in California. Horses and cattle moved around, grazing off the land. It looked like a postcard.

  “This was William’s pride and joy. The ranch is twenty-thousand acres and stretches out right in front of the San Juan Mountains. We raise some cattle and breed horses, but the big money comes in from the bulls. William was a champion back in the day,” Wyatt told him, and Jackson could hear the pride in each of his words. This place meant a lot to the man.

  “Is that where the name for the ranch came from?” Jackson asked. He’d wondered about the name, but hadn’t asked.

  “He was able to buy this land with the money he earned from all the belt buckles he won. He said the name fit,” Wyatt explained.

  “It does.” Jackson nodded. “Do you know when the others are going to arrive?” he asked, changing the subject.

  He only planned to stay at the ranch for a week. He didn’t have any more vacation time than that. Normally he would’ve needed to give more notice, but he’d explained that it was a family emergency and his employer gave him special permission. Finding out that William had died was something he wasn’t prepared for. Hearing that he had four half brothers was even more of a shock. He kept his thoughts inside, though.

  “You all received the same information, cash, and a plane ticket. I’m hoping the other men will arrive here within the next few days,” Wyatt told him.

  “Isn’t it too late? I mean…shouldn’t they be notified that William passed away?” Jackson asked.

  “Trent Weston, the executor, still needs to read the last will and testament to you all. It’s important that the five of you are here for that. There will be a lot to…uh…” He paused as if trying to find the right words. “Discuss.”

  They turned a corner in the dirt road, and a sprawling ranch-style home came into view. Wyatt pulled the truck up to the front, stopped, and turned the ignition off. It was everything Jackson thought it would be and more. Climbing out of the vehicle, he stretched his back and inhaled the fresh air. It made him light-headed, almost tipsy.