Military Romance Collection: Contemporary Soldier Alpha Male Romance (27 page)

              “And that means lots of prize money,” Freddie said. “And you know what that means.”

              “A hot tub for the bunk house?” Charlie guessed.

              “Two hot tubs,” Freddie said, jerking a thumb toward Sean. “One for me and one for him. That way we don’t have to share.”

              “We’re so glad we were able to come and watch Miracle Boy become a star,” Saba said. She help up her phone so everyone could see it. “Do you know your horse already has 2,000 friends on Facebook?” She flattened her hand over her chest. “I am an actual person, and I do not have 2,000 friends on Facebook.”

              “That’s okay, honey,” Freddie said. “The friends you do have like you a whole bunch.”

              Saba laughed. “You are a sweetheart. Maybe someday you will have a baby I can feed the cotton candies to.”

              “Hope springs eternal,” Freddie said with a laugh.

              “You should come out to the ranch and spend the night,” Ada suggested. “We will have a little fire, celebrate the victory, have a good time.”

              Saba shifted her weight. Baby Hamez was already falling asleep, with his little nose tucked up against her neck. “I don’t know,” she said.

              “I’ve got to work in the morning,” Matthew said. “We’ll have to take you up on it another time.”  He wrapped his arm around Saba and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Besides, you two need to be able to celebrate your victory without anyone walking in at an awkward moment.”

              “We have Dr. Daniels,” Ada said with a laugh. “They’re all awkward moments.”

              Saba laughed. “All I want is an opportunity to use the bathroom without an audience.” She shook her head. “Just one time!”

              Ada laughed. “I hear you.”  She embraced her sister in law, and gave her a tender kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for coming. Thank you for bringing Hamez.” She patted Saba’s tummy softly and tenderly. “Let us know how things are going on this front. If there’s anything you need, you let me know.” Ada smiled. “I’m sure I can rustle up a tractor trailer load of Saltines if need be.”

              Saba smiled and kissed Ada’s cheek. “You are too kind. Drive home safely. I will call you tomorrow.”

              Charlie crowed the whole way home. “Wasn’t Miracle Boy amazing? That poor little Sitts boy didn’t stand a chance. He thought he had the situation under control. He really did.” He looked over at Ada in the passenger seat and grinned. “Tell me, did you think he was going to last all eight seconds?”

              “I was starting to get a little worried,” Ada admitted. “Oliver really is a very good saddle bronc rider.”

              “He is,” Charlie agreed. “But very good’s just not good enough to cover our boy. Very good’s not going to get the job done. When he hopped up there, you could have driven a pickup truck underneath Miracle Boy’s hooves.”

              From his car seat, baby Michael made a noise.

              “It’s okay, honey,” Ada said. “Daddy’s just exaggerating.”

              “Only a little,” Charlie protested. “And when Miracle Boy got his feet under him for real, it was game over.”

              “He did fly right through the air, didn’t he?” Ada said, with a giggle. “I don’t know who was more surprised, him or the crowd.”

              “Oh, the crowd had absolutely given this to Sitts. No doubt,” Charlie said. “But they didn’t know what we know.”

              “They know now,” Ada said. “The next time out, we’re going to see just as many people cheering for Bad Ass 2 as there were cheering for Oliver.”

              Charlie looked at his wife out of the corner of his eye. “What did you just call our colt?”

              She blushed. “You heard me.”

              “I’m not sure I did, actually.” Charlie laughed. “All this time, you’ve been giving everyone hell for calling him that.”

              “Maybe he had to earn it,” Ada said. “It’s one thing to have a name because that’s what your Daddy hung on you.” She shook her head. “It’s another situation entirely when you get out there in the arena and throw down a performance like that.” She beamed. “His first outing ever.Debut performance.The most bad ass rider in the circuit right now. And who walks away with their head held high?”

              “Tell me, honey,” Charlie said. “Who?”

              “Bad Ass 2, that’s who.” Ada laughed. “I can’t believe Oliver Sitts sought you out to shake your hand.”

              “Well,” Charlie said, clearly pleased as punch. “It’s not every day he finds a horse that he can’t ride.”

              “And if Oliver Sitts can’t ride him, he can’t be ridden.” Ada sighed a happy sigh. “I can hear those stud fees going up, up, up as we speak.”

              “Spoken like a true rancher’s wife,” Charlie said with a grin.

              Ada reached over and took her husband’s free hand. “Who would have thought it turned out like this?”

              He smiled. “It’s been an adventure. When I first met you, I was about to lose the whole ranch because Grandpa Chuck couldn’t pay his taxes.” He looked back over his shoulder at the horse trailer they were towing back to the ranch. “And now the prize money this one won tonight is more than enough to cover that entire bill.”

              “You’d better make sure to declare these winnings properly,” Ada said. “I doubt the IRS is going to be quite this lenient the second time around.”

              “I don’t know,” Charlie said with a laugh. He squeezed his wife’s hand. “I apparently have a gift for sweet talking IRS agents.”

              “That’s probably not going to work twice, sweetheart.” Ada squeezed Charlie’s hand, just a bit tighter than he’d squeezed hers. “And I’m not sure trying it is entirely in your best interests.”

              Charlie laughed. “Don’t you worry, honey. I know I’ve got a good thing going here, and I’m not about to do anything to mess it up.”

              “It’s better than you know,” Ada said. She turned her head and looked primly through the truck’s side window.

              “What do you mean by that?” Charlie asked. “I know for sure life couldn’t get much better than it is.”

              “Well,” Ada said with a sly smile. “You notice how happy Saba is now that she and Matthew are expecting a little one of their own.”

              Charlie nodded. “That is good news. We can use some of this prize money to help them get set up for the little guy.” He smiled. “Maybe we’ll get one of those wild west cowboy themed cribs.”

              “Maybe we should get two cribs,” Ada said.

              “What?” Charlie pulled his head over and looked at his wife. “You’re…we’re…”

              She nodded.

              “But we already have a crib,” Charlie said. “By the time the new baby comes, Dr. Daniels will be old enough to go into a toddler bed. Won’t he?”

              Ada smiled. “One crib is good if you’re going to have one baby,” she said. “But if you’re fixing to have two babies, you’re going to need two cribs.”

              Charlie’s jaw fell open. He drove along for a few miles without saying a word.

              “Have I,” Ada teased, “at long last actually made my husband speechless?”

              Charlie pulled the truck over, turned in his seat, and gave Ada a long passionate kiss. “In the best possible way ever.” He grinned, his joy stretching from ear to ear. “Twins. Who would have thought that was ever possible.”

              “The miracles just keep on coming,” Ada said. She leaned forward and gave Charlie another kiss, sweet and proprietary. “I knew the minute I saw you that good things would happen if you and I wound up together. And I was right.”

              In the back seat, baby Michael let out a squeak. He wasn’t a fussy baby but he didn’t like it when the truck wasn’t moving.

              “All right, little man,” Charlie said with a laugh. He restarted the truck. “We’re headed for home. That’s where all the good stuff happens, anyway.”

              Ada reached over and took his hand.  “Times three,” she said.

              “Times four,” Charlie replied. “You’ve got to count yourself. First and always, you’re the best miracle in my life.”

              “And you’re mine, baby.” The former IRS agent squeezed the rancher’s hand. “You’re mine.”

***

THE END

Chapter 1

Carrie sighed and looked out the window of the small lunch truck that she worked at. It was another hour before she could go, but there was a line around the block and she knew that they would have to serve them all before she could leave. Or if the food ran out, but it almost never did.

Smashed was the new craze in the city and although the name did not bode well for a restaurant, it was because of their signature sandwich, the one that had everyone there. There was also a marketing scheme to keep it fresh, the truck would be announced on the radio where they would be for lunch. Customers would flock wherever they were to get their hands on a Smasher deluxe. To Carrie, it just meant she had to drive all over the city every morning.

Carrie didn’t like the smashed black bean burger, but it was a hit with many dieters and vegans. After she looked back at the basin of burgers, she was relieved to see that they didn’t have near enough to serve them all. She counted the few that were left and gave them a number. People started to leave and though a few grumbled, they just vowed to themselves that they were going to get one the next day.

“Carrie, let’s get these people through here so we can go.”

She nodded at Brosco and helped the next customer in line. Soon she was through and wrapping drinks up and putting things away in the front. They were out of there before one and Carrie was off to her other job at a karaoke bar. Carrie was a shooter girl and on occasion, she would do a few songs to get the drunks going, though they realistically didn’t need any help to make complete fools of themselves.

Carrie had enough time to get to her small Westside apartment and then shower and dress before she was back at it again. There were a couple of times that she had forgotten to shower and she smelled of beans the whole night. Surprisingly she got better tips that night, but she didn’t want to think too far into why that was.

She made her way the three blocks to Canivaals and clocked in on the old time clock in the back. She waved to her friend Mindy and went to the bar to grab her tray of liquor vials. Mindy made them earlier in the day and Carrie downed one before she started her shift.

Her job was not hard, more mind numbing than anything else. She used the time to think of lyrics for her songs and poems for her journal. Carrie had plans to publish her poetry one day or sell a song so that she could hear it on the radio, but for now, Carrie was slogging through 2 jobs most days, just so she could finish off her Bachelors in Art. With only one semester left, Carrie was finally on the home stretch and loved the idea of only needing one job after school.

Carrie was job was pretty simply as a shooter girl. She carried around a tray of shots and sold them to the crowd. While she would jump on stage from time to time, it was more for her love of music, then for any extra money. The thing she absolutely hated about her job though was the types of clothes that she had to wear. The shirt was a midriff and showed off most of her creamy cleavage. And if that wasn’t enough, a lot of men wanted to shoot them off of her and though she allowed some, it seemed demeaning, even with the large tip that she usually received. Every time a man’s face moved towards her chest, she just sighed and tried to smile when he looked at her. It was not a requirement of her job, but it was smiled upon by management, especially when she allowed Johnston to as well.

The pervy owner came through the place later in the evening around eight, when the club started to get busy. There was more dancing and by the stack of bills in her apron, it was going to be a good night. Johnston stopped her as she was about to go back on the floor with another tray full.

“I was hoping to get something to whet my whistle.”

Carrie groaned at his lecherous look and instead of pushing it through her cleavage as he wanted, Carrie handed a shot to him and walked away, flipping her mass of red curls behind her as she went. She smiled to herself for her small act of rebellion, but knew that it would most likely translate into fewer hours on the next schedule. Carrie promised herself that when she was able to quit a job, Carnivaals would be first and she would make sure to let Johnston know exactly how she felt. Pushing the mask back up onto her face, she situated the beads to fall in her cleft and walked up to a couple of guys that were eying the bar like they needed a drink.

“Would you guys like a drink?”

Carrie smiled up at the two men that were wearing biker jackets and seemed out of place in the bar full of drunken white collars. They were rough looking and covered in tattoos, not at all the normal clientele of suits. Neither one had been on the dance floor and she betted they were there on some kind of shady business. What kind of business could be done while a half-drunk broad sang a Whitney Houston song horribly? Not anything legitimate she guessed.

They smiled back at her and one man in particular caught her eye. He was handsome of course, but it was the way he looked at her that made her look twice. Carrie was used to leering men in that type of work, but he may have been the first one that month that looked into her eyes. On some strange level, she wanted him to notice her as others did, signifying her attraction.

“Yes I will take a couple.” The blonde man that was standing next to him was like most of the others, gawking and practically drooling at her chest. She handed him a couple of shots and ignored the fact that he did not tip her. When the dark-haired man ordered his, Carrie nestled it in between her large breasts and waited for him to take it. He surprised her by grabbing it out and shooting it down. He tipped her with a twenty and a card.

Carrie smiled back a little miffed and moved around the room. She did not offer it to anyone else in that way. It figured that the one she wanted to didn’t, and the rest did. She caught the eye of Johnston and he asked her to go up and sing a song to get the lines going for karaoke. Carrie did for a change of pace and to have a few minutes of fun in her otherwise boring day.

She sang a rendition of a country song that she knew well. It wasn’t really her genre of choice, but she always sang random picks, so Carrie Underwood’s cheating song was what was up. Her eyes played over the crowd as she sang and though she wouldn’t admit it to herself, there was a particular man that she was looking for. Carrie didn’t see the biker again and even when she put her carnival mask back on and went back out on the floor, she didn’t see him or his friend again. There was still his card in her apron, but she would quickly forget about it until that evening when she was counting her tips for the night at home.

While she had thought it may have been some kind of business card, it was just a name and a gang. “Castor Reaux - Devil Mutts.”

Carrie didn’t know what that was supposed to mean or who the Devil Mutts were supposed to be. She imagined that it was the name of a biker gang that she had heard about in passing. Turning it over, she found a number that was handwritten in scrawling text. Carrie hadn’t seen him write it, so she wondered if he had a pocketful that he handed out. The idea was creepy and she forgot about Castor and dragged herself home early around ten. Her small apartment greeted her, as well as her cat Meow.

She may never see the man again, but he inspired her. Instead of the writer’s block that had plagued her last couple of weeks, there was a song written in less than an hour, the music and lyrics pouring out of her. It was Castor that she thought of and she wondered why he had such an impact on her. He would be to her, ‘the man that had refused.’