Holiday Hunks: Miles’ Christmas Roundup
Hot Hunks
Angela Stevens
Copyright © 2019 by Angela Stevens
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Also by Angela Stevens
1. Miles
2. Cady
3. Miles
4. Cady
5. Miles
6. Cady
7. Miles
8. Cady
9. Miles
10. Cady
11. Miles
12. Cady
13. Miles
14. Cady
15. Miles
16. Cady
17. Miles
18. Cady
Also By The Hot Hunks Authors
Also by Angela Stevens
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Angela Stevens
Contemporary Romance Series
Thrill Of The Chase Series
Catching Saul
Catching Gabe
Catching Nate
Catching Luke
Catching Noah
Catching Adam
* * *
Adult Steamy Sport Romance
Hockey Punk Series
Changing On The Fly
Spin-O-Rama (Book 2)
Dump And Chase (Book 3)
Yard Sale (Book 4)
Home Ice Advantage (Book 5)
Light The Lamp (A companion Novella and prequel) Get this novella free when you join Angela Steven’s Romance subscribers on her website www.AngelaStevens.Net
* * *
Urban fantasy
The Vargr Clan Trilogy
The Wolf You Feed: The Vargr Clan Trilogy (Book 1)
Hold On: The Vargr Clan Trilogy (Book 2)
An Unbreakable Will: The Vargr Clan Trilogy (Book 3)
The Splits In My Skin (A bonus short novella telling Johan’s story) Get this novella free when you join Angela Steven’s Fantasy subscribers on her website www.AngelaStevens.Net
* * *
Vargr Clan Spin Off Series
The Black Walker Warrior Novels
Blood Or Destiny: A Black Walker Warrior Novel (Book 1)
Blood Brothers: A Black Walker Warrior Novel (Book 2)
1
Miles
Fountain, Colorado August
Will that be all, Miss…”
“Mrs.”
“Sorry.”
Miles Carmichael looked up at the attractive thirty-something year old woman in front of him. With one sweeping glance, he had her measured. High maintenance wasn’t the word for it. Those damn nails probably cost more than filling up his truck. The hair—all shades of blonde—looked like the damn stylist who did it was a Renaissance painter; each strand was perfectly colored and then precisely curled—now that probably set her back five hundred bucks.
“Mrs. Clayton.” She tossed the perfect locks over her shoulder and leaned even further across the counter toward him.
Miles guessed she was trying to draw attention to her cleavage, which was now spilling out of her straining white tee—like it fucking needed any extra attention. Hey, those twin pillows did their own marketing. Still, his eyes took in their full beauty before he dragged his gaze back up to her face. Hmm, now that he looked at her, she was closer to forty than thirty, but the woman obviously looked after herself.
“Like something you see?”
“I was just admiring your hair.” And other assets!
“Hair?”
One perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, but Miles didn’t miss a beat. He reached out and picked up a lock, sifting his fingers through it. “What color would you call this?”
“It’s a Balayage technique.” She repossessed her hair and smoothed it back into place. “You’d never guess I wasn’t a natural blonde, would you? Can you believe I paid almost six hundred bucks to get it to look like I never even went to the stylist?”
Yeah, he could believe it, though understanding why the hell someone would pay that much money for something that would grow out or fade in six weeks was beyond him. But if there was one thing Miles knew about privileged, bored housewives, it was that they knew how to spend their husband’s money.
Besides, Miles wasn’t a complete novice when it came to women’s fashion and beauty. He might live out in the sticks—let’s face it there wasn’t much call for dude ranches in the city—but he had sisters. Two of them to be exact. Twin pink girlies that were the bane of his teenage years. They had poured over every new beauty craze with envy in their hearts yet had no allowance big enough to satisfy it. But Juliet and Harriet, despite their longings, never required any of the shit this woman was sporting. Naturally beautiful, neither needed so much as a lipstick.
Miles went back to the computer and finished checking in Mrs. Clayton. “I see Mr. Clayton is booked in for our four hour cattle ride this afternoon. You’re not tempted to join him?”
Through the reception area’s window, Miles could see her husband putting the finishing touches on his outfit. The slick city boy looked like a newly minted cowboy doll. Wearing a plaid shirt, with the fold lines from the packaging still visible, and jeans that were so stiff the guy would regret them after six hours in the saddle, he tied a crisp paisley bandanna around his neck and turned the ‘triangle’ part to the front. Jesus, these fucking stockbroker types! All Clayton needed now was a pristine, ludicrously large-brimmed, white Stetson to complete his Lone Ranger getup.
Mr. Clayton leaned into the back of his SUV. Ah there you go, he had one of those too! The guy placed the ridiculous hat on his head, and as he walked across to the stables, Miles noticed a glint of silver on the heels of his shiny red-leather cowboy boots.
“Excuse me a minute, Mrs. Clayton.” Miles picked up his walkie-talkie and pressed down the button. It crackled into life. “Caleb.”
A second later, his brother answered. “What’s up?”
“One of your noon riders is on his way over. Can you remind him that we do not allow spurs. Oh, and find him some chaps, the guy isn’t gonna want to dirty his new jeans.”
“Fuck. Copy.”
Miles could imagine the eye roll that accompanied his brother’s comment.
“So, you aren’t a rider, Mrs. Clayton?”
She ran her finger along Miles’ forearm and her eyes drifted to his. “Well, I might be persuaded, if I could find a handsome cowboy to give me a one-on-one lesson.”
The stress on one-on-one left Miles in no doubt of the type of lesson she was interested in. As he handed her the keys to the cabin the Claytons had rented, they slipped from her fingers onto the floor. Turning around, she bent over and slowly picked them back up. Miles regarded the black denim stretched tight over her skinny ass and knew he was fucked. The woman was pulling out all the stops, and Miles had long since lost any scruples he’d had. As she turned back to him, he cemented the deal by flashing her what he knew from experience was a panty-wetting smile.
“Well, it just so happens I have no one scheduled this afternoon. I’d be happy to give you my undivided attention, Mrs. Clayton.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Lauren,” she said breathlessly, “please, call me Lauren.”
“Great, Lauren. Shall we say…” He flicked his wrist so he could check the time on his watch. “In about an hour? That’ll
give you time to settle in.” And time for her husband to get well and truly out of the way.
“Perfect. Where shall I meet you?”
“See that red barn over there?”
Lauren followed his finger as he pointed across the yard and nodded.
“How about we start with a tour of the barn, and I can introduce you to some of the horses, then if you feel comfortable, we can get you up in that saddle.”
There wasn’t a hope in hell of them actually getting on any of the horses, and from the way Lauren breathlessly whispered back to him, “I’ll see you in an hour,” it was obvious the only thing she wanted to ride was him.
Miles watched her skip across the grass on the way to her cabin, and picked up the radio again. “Caleb, can you give me a heads up if Wyatt Earp heads back early so I can let his wife know.”
Static buzzed for a couple of seconds, then the handset crackled into life. “Fuck. Didn’t we talk about this?”
“Not my fault they always come on to me.”
“You could fucking ignore them. Aren’t you getting too old for this?”
With Miles so close to his thirty-fifth birthday, his brother made a valid point. But Miles had tried the ‘settling down’ thing once before. That hadn’t worked out too well, so he’d fallen back into old ways. “What? And spoil our guests’ ‘Wild West’ experience? Now, where’s the fun in that?”
“Yeah, I’ll call you, but I’m not taking your back if you get caught again.”
Miles dropped the radio onto the counter. He chose not to reply to his brother’s reminder. About six months ago, one of his ‘special tours’ had backfired on him. The lady in question had been a little too eager, and the tour had deteriorated into something way more carnal, far too soon after her husband had left for his ride. Unfortunately for Miles, the guy returned earlier than his allotted excursion after his horse dropped him in a pond barely half a mile away. Caught in flagrante with his pants literally around his ankles, Miles was hindered somewhat as he tried to defend himself. Thankfully, Caleb had been about five minutes behind the guy, and never shy to join in a fight; his brother helped Miles subdue the outraged husband.
The resulting black eye and bruised ribs were something Miles wasn’t a stranger to. He sucked those up, as it went with the territory. If you acted like an alley cat, then you got used to defending your alley. But the Yelp reviews were a whole different ballgame. It had taken him months to make those one star rants about his luxury cabins disappear.
As Miles finished up in the office, he developed a spring in his step at the thought of a quick roll in the hay with the very attractive Lauren Clayton. The phone rang and he scooped it up when he saw Nolan’s smiling mug on the screen.
“Hey, Nol, how was Bali?” Nolan Carmichael, his half-brother, was just back from his honeymoon.
“All play and no work.” Nolan chuckled wickedly down the phone and Miles could hear his new Puerto Rican wife making an objection in the background. Damn, who’d have thought out of all his siblings, it would have been Nolan that got hitched first? Miles would have bet money on his kid brother never settling down. Since the guy lost his best friend, Lenny, a few years earlier, he’d been compensating for something by bed hopping. Being a muscle-bound fitness instructor, Nolan didn’t have to try hard, either. If there was one brother that had outshined Miles’ own promiscuity, it was Nolan.
“Say ‘hi’ to Livi for me.” Miles had met Olivia many times over the last seven years. A caramel-skinned beauty that was as devastated as Nolan over the loss of Lenny—she’d been married to the guy. Miles hadn’t quite got his head around how that dynamic happened but he had to admit the two of them were perfect for each other.
“She says hi, too.”
“Was there something you wanted?” Miles checked his watch again; he’d quite like to grab a shower before he kept his appointment with Lauren.
“Yeah, I just wanted to check on arrangements for the Carmichael Christmas Roundup.”
“Jeez, it’s four months away.”
“I know, but I just want to get the dates clear. Livi wants us to go to Puerto Rico to see her grandparents, so I wanna make sure there are no clashes.”
Miles flipped open the scheduler on his desk. The cabins didn’t do as much business in the winter as the weather interfered with their riding programs. However, they did get booked up over Christmas, when they had a select group of return visitors who liked to come for the idyllic snowy views, as well as the chance to have some sappy Hollywood film version of Christmas. His Colorado ranch charged premium prices for an all-inclusive, luxury Christmas breaks, that more than made up for the lack of winter guests. Between mid-December and mid-January, Miles made a sizable fortune out of turning his place into a Christmas wonderland. He’d make a whole lot more too, if he didn’t have to reserve some of the accommodations for his family coming into town. Still, he loved this one time of the year when they all gathered in one place.
“So you’re gracing us with your appearance this year?” Miles wasn’t really sour about Nolan racing off to Bali last year, but his brother didn’t have to know that. “I have everyone penciled in from the 23rd to the 27th. Shit, I guess I need to assign you a separate room this year.”
Nolan laughed. “Well, I’m not sure Livi will want us to share with Caleb.”
“No sweat, I’ll scoot things around. We’ll make it work.” Miles always did.
For the past ten years, they’d held their family reunions at the ranch; however, the siblings’ dynamics had changed almost yearly. There had been a succession of girlfriends, and much to Miles chagrin, boyfriends—he’d almost thrown a fit when Juliet had brought a guy with her five years ago and then Harriet followed suit the following year. At one point, there had even been his own wife in the equation.
As the unpleasant thought of Clarissa reared its ugly head, Miles’ mood plummeted. The memory of that conniving, money-grabbing bitch’s name still opened old wounds.
The brothers chatted on for another fifteen minutes before Miles finally had to ditch Nolan. It was one thing pissing off the husbands of his liaisons, but a whole other thing to piss off the female guests that took a fancy to him. Grabbing his hat, he headed off to his room. Lauren would have to settle for a fresh T-shirt since, thanks to Nolan, he didn’t have time for a shower.
He rolled a faded black tee over his head and tugged it into place. The thing fit snug, emphasizing his pecs and biceps. Miles wasn’t as big as his younger brother. Jeez, Nolan took his fitness seriously—guess that is what happens when you own a successful fancy-assed gym in San Francisco. Miles, on the other hand, got his physique from pure hard work. When he wasn’t running this hand-me-down resort business for his stepmother, he was handling the horses and managing the upkeep of the rest of the ranch. Digging holes for posts, carrying hay bales, and taming spirited mares was a better workout than any of Nolan’s expensive gym equipment could provide.
Miles ran his hand over his face. It had been three days since he last shaved. His facial hair was getting longer than he usually kept it, but he guessed Ms. Clayton wouldn’t mind, as she’d still come on to him earlier. He placed his hat back on his head and started the trek over to the barn.
As he rounded the corner, he could already see the woman waiting for him. She was wearing a long, flowing tiered skirt with that same white T-shirt tucked into it. Nice. And practical too—not for riding horses of course, but it sure made things simpler for riding cowboys.
2
Cady
Alexandria, Virginia
Seriously, Paul? I just left the office an hour ago.” Cady slipped her feet back into her shoes. She’d taken them off less than ten minutes ago when she walked into her apartment.
“You do know that the job of a personal assistant is to assist?” Paul, her boss, snapped back at her.
She wanted to say her freaking job didn’t extend to getting his groceries, taking his dog to vet appointments, or rushing out in the middle o
f her Sunday afternoon to give him a second opinion on the drapes he was having difficulty choosing for his great room, but she bit her tongue. Paul’s ego was fragile at the best of times, and it was bad enough she had to go back into work without making the whole thing ten times more unpleasant. If she kept quiet, perhaps whatever emergency he had manufactured and needed her help to solve would hopefully only take a few minutes, an hour tops. Whereas if she pointed out just how unreasonable he was being—considering he paid her a pittance as it was—he would no doubt spin it out for hours.
“I’m leaving now, depending on traffic, I should be back with you in forty minutes.” She grabbed her purse and car keys and yanked open the door of the apartment as she hung up the call. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman almost collided with her as she raced through the door. “Oh, sorry, Jules.”
Juliet frowned at her and picked up the groceries that tumbled from the paper sack in her arms. “Where are you off to in such a rush?”
Cady sighed and squatted to help her roommate. “Paul’s having an emergency.”
“Another one? Jeez, you really need to tell that man no. Didn’t I tell you to switch off your cell when you leave the office?”
“I know, I know. But I need to leave it on or my friends can’t call me.” Though to be honest it was debatable if Cady had any damn friends left. She’d left them high and dry, cancelled nights out, welched on promises, and cut them off when talking on the phone—all because her boss thought he owned her 24/7.
Miles' Christmas Roundup (Holiday Hunks Book 2) Page 1
