Welcome to Honor James and her scorching hot cowboys...
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Patty's Homecoming (MFM)
Montana Wranglers 1 |
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By:
Honor James
Categories: Erotic
Romance, Contemporary, Menage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Word
Count: 93,159
Heat
Level: SEXTREME
Published
By: Siren-BookStrand, Inc.
This
title is offered at a 15% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, April 2nd.
[Ménage Amour: Erotic Cowboy Ménage a
Trois Romance, M/F/M, HEA]
Trouble is following Patricia
Graymont home. But she needs somewhere to hide for a while, to sort through
everything that’s happened, and as the saying goes, there really is no place
like home. The only problem is having to face the two men she still loves and
once left behind.
Blake Jacobson and Corbin Franks have
worked on the Graymont Ranch for as many years as they can remember. They
have a love for the land and the work they do is to keep it as natural as
possible. They also both love the owner’s daughter, but once upon a time,
they had to let her go to become the woman they always knew she could be.
Her homecoming was everything Patty
could hope for, and more. Already feeling a little raw emotionally, seeing
Blake and Corbin again was like a healing balm to her soul. Now, all they
have to do is survive the coming storm.
A Siren Erotic
Romance
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STORY EXCERPT
The sound of a door slamming was closely followed by loud curses
of a creative, if inaccurate, nature. Lifting his head up from the books he’d
been semi-diligently going over, Daniel peeked out the window. What he saw was
one of his hands, half-dressed, arguing with Constantine, his housekeeper.
Rolling his chair closer to the window, he cracked it open. He
didn’t need to, the whole house had air conditioning. Nope, he was being a nosy
old man and cracked it to eavesdrop. Not that he was old. He was only sixty and
still going strong. He’d had a great life, an even better one with his beloved
wife Charlotte, God rest her soul. She’d given him thirty-five years of marriage,
love, and the best sex of his life. She’d also given him every single one of
his gray hairs, two sons and a daughter.
Connor worked the farm and, one day, would take over for him.
Brendan was a lawyer in Great Falls and handled all the legal matters for the
farm, not that there were a lot, but it was a business. And his baby, Patricia,
was in New York working for an interior designer and one day, God willing,
would go out on her own. In the meantime she was living life, enjoying her
career and called him every weekend to chat a mile a minute. Just like her mama
used to do whenever she was excited, or pissed off. Chuckling, he shook his
head. That girl could talk the ear off of anyone and try the patience of even
the Pope himself.
“I’ve told you a dozen times Constantine, and I’m sorry I have to
apparently declare it to the whole damned world, but I’m not interested,”
Blake, the half-dressed hand, said in a loud tone. Daniel’s attention was
dragged back to the goings-on outside the window.
“That’s not what Trevor said,” the woman shrieked. “Do you think I
would be there if you hadn’t apparently been pining for me?”
“Pining!” Daniel winced. He hadn’t known that Blake’s voice could
go that high or that loud. “Woman, I have never nor will I ever pine for a woman.
Especially you, Constantine Delgado. You are a busybody and way too much
maintenance. And if I ever, ever catch you trying to jump me while I’m in my
rack sleeping again, I will personally kick your ass out of Montana one step at
a time.”
The woman shrieked at the top of her lungs, pure frustration
there, Daniel thought. His next thought was he would be needing a new
housekeeper. And he was spot-on with that assessment, especially given her next
words. “Don’t fucking bother you degenerate! I quit!” she screamed. With that
volume, Daniel was pretty sure all of Montana knew she’d just quit.
“Good!” Blake sneered right back at her. “I pity the next fool
that dares to take you on. I only pray that he’s got a wife that puts you in
your fucking place.”
Another shriek and Constantine was storming toward the house. Eyes
going wide, Daniel shut the window and rolled his chair back into place just in
time for the front door to smack the siding. Wincing, he turned his attention
to the books as she went to her room. More banging, door slamming, and a lot of
swearing.
One of the problems with having a single woman on the farm was
that the men tended to forget about her sex when they were working and let
loose with some creative language. Not that he normally minded. The only time
he enforced it with the hands was when Patricia came home to visit. ’Course,
most of the lads thought of her as a baby sister, so that helped keep the
cursing to a minimum. Not that he was fool enough to believe his baby girl
couldn’t out-swear them all. She could. He was just in denial and would remain
so until the day he left his farm and went to meet up with his Charlotte in the
hereafter.
His head came up as he realized that silence reigned in the house
all of a sudden. Oops, thought it too soon. A door slammed and angry steps
stomped toward his office. Pasting on a bland expression, he looked up.
“Constantine, uh, are you going somewhere?” he asked. Okay, an Academy Award
was not in his future, but she was too pissed off to notice.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Graymont, I can’t work here any longer. I quit,”
she said, slamming her suitcase to the floor.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Constantine. May I ask why?” He tipped
his head and hoped he looked confused and slightly curious.
“It’s got nothing to do with you, sir. It’s…” she waved a hand
viciously if vaguely about. “It’s them! Those no-good, vile men!” she hissed.
Fighting a chuckle, he nodded slowly. “Well, I’m sad to see you
go, Constantine. But you have to do whatever is right for you, dear.” He grabbed
his checkbook and wrote her out a check for her last pay plus a little extra.
Passing it to her, he sighed, “If you need references, you have them call me.
You did great work while you were here and I’m going to make sure they know
that.”
She folded the check, stuffed it into her purse and hefted her
suitcase. “Thank you, Mr. Graymont. I am sorry to leave you in the lurch like
this.”
“Don’t even worry about it. We’ll make do.” He waved her off.
“Drive safe now and if you need anything, let me know.”
A stiff nod was her only answer as she spun away. The door slammed
behind her and he turned to watch her march to her car. The finger she threw
toward the bunkhouse was telling—immature, but very telling. So were the
spinning tires and gravel kicked up behind her as she tore up the drive toward
the main road.
“Wow, that girl is mad,” he muttered, reaching for the phone.
Hitting a number on speed dial, he grinned when his buddy at the Mission Post
picked up. “Morty, how’s it going? Good, good. Nah, usual shit and lots of it,
given what I’ve got out in the north forty. Listen, I need you to run my ad for
a housekeeper. Yup, she thought she’d get into one of the lads’ pants and he
told her otherwise. I know, damn women are just too pushy. A little subtlety
goes a hell of a lot further. Yup, sounds good. I’ll drop the check off
tomorrow when I’m in getting supplies. What? Yeah,” he chuckled. “We can grab a
beer. Let’s say around four if that works for you. Sounds good, see you then
Mort.”
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