Victor Carter knows his grandfather only from a handful of black and white photographs, so his surprise when the man’s will is read is genuine. What’s he going to do with seventy acres on the side of a Kentucky mountain? More importantly, how’s he going to survive living there for a year to satisfy the conditions of the will so he can sell the property? Even worse, it’s not like the hills of Kentucky are teeming with gay companionship.
Boone Mosely is Kentucky born and bred with a proud family heritage he can trace back to his home state’s founding. Following in his uncle’s footsteps, Boone’s in his second term as sheriff of Four Points. He takes the job seriously and doesn’t suffer fools—or crime—in his town.
When city slicker Victor Carter arrives on Shepherd Mountain, Boone knows he’s got a whole new brand of trouble to deal with. And this time, the badge isn’t going to help him at all.
Genres: Gay/Contemporary
Heat Level: 3
Length: Extended Novella (34k words)
Read a short excerpt...
“I’ve got a few pins and needles in my toes, but I’m fine. Honest. And thank you for coming to my rescue.”
“It’s my job.” Boone hoped Carter wasn’t about to get all sappy. He hated sap. It wasn’t manly. He stopped at the end of the lane, glanced at his passenger, and froze.
The blue lights of the dashboards danced in Vic’s glittering gaze as he studied Boone. That obvious speculation wouldn’t do. He’d prefer to battle his attraction to Vic without Vic correctly concluding he was gay. Getting involved with Carter was out of the question.
He was the sheriff here, with an image and a reputation to uphold. People in Four Points were in a lot of ways traditional—not intolerant, just old-fashioned. Boone wasn’t ready to come out, even though he suspected his constituents wouldn’t bat too many eyes, but if he spent a year happily screwing this guy, people would notice.
His was a high-profile position. He respected the badge he wore and the people he served. It didn’t matter how attractive Victor Carter was or that his cock was so stiff it likely had zipper marks imbedded in it right now. He’d be damned if he’d throw away a dozen years of hard work just to get his dick sucked.
Boone pressed his lips together, then snapped at Vic, “But it’s not my job to keep hauling your ass out of trouble every time I turn around. If you’re gonna be here a year, you’d better figure out a few things, and fast. And the first thing is, when I give you some advice, you need to fucking listen up.”
Vic stared at him for a few short heartbeats. “I’m sorry, Boone. You’re right.”
Boone glared at him. That was too easy. Carter was going to be in trouble every time he turned around. He checked to make sure the pickup was in four-high and third gear and drove forward into the swirling snow.
Give the man credit, Vic didn’t chatter at him while he drove through the squall. Visibility was low, and he needed to concentrate. Even though he knew the roads and where the intersections were, he still had difficulty seeing. Carter would have gotten himself well and truly lost driving around the mountain in this weather. Boone slowed as the lighted sign of the motor lodge glowed red in front of him.
“Which room are you in?”
“Last one on the end. Better for the dog.”
Huh. That made sense. Boone took his foot off the gas pedal and drifted into the parking space. Vic jumped out before he had the truck in park, slipped and landed flat on his ass.
The idiot.
Boone cut the engine and climbed out of the cab at a safer speed. With one gloved hand on the front end of the truck, he walked around to the passenger side and found Vic leaning against the front tire. “You okay?”
“My pride is severely bruised.”
“I can just imagine.” Boone reached out to give Vic a hand up.
As Vic got to his feet, he brushed his jeans off.
“Thanks.”
“You said that. Get inside before your dog starts to bark and the manager yells at me.”
Vic’s gaze seemed focused on the motel office. “The room has a coffee pot if you want to come in and warm up.”
Holy mother of… Wouldn’t that be the stupidest thing he’d done in years?
“Sure. I could do with a cup.”
Who the fuck said that?
Vic looked surprised and straightened. “Ranger needs to…”
Boone recovered a bit of his equilibrium. “I’ll take him around the side of the building. You get your ass inside. I want a good look at your head, and if I say we’re going to the clinic and wake up Doc Martin, you’re not going to argue with me.”
“Yes, sir. I hear you loud and clear.” Vic opened the side door of the pickup, and Ranger leaped to the ground. As soon as his paws hit the pavement, he jumped and hit Vic square in the chest. Boone lunged to catch Vic before he fell again, but ended up in the snow with him. Could this man be more trouble?
“I’m sorry, Boone! Ranger! Leave off!”
“Sorry my ass, Carter. Sorry ain’t good enough for this little misadventure...”
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