Page 1 of Aisle Be The Groom (Bristlecone Springs #1)

GRAY

T he second I checked my phone screen and my wife’s name popped up, I knew exactly what was coming before I opened the text message.

Sorry, hon. I can’t make it after all. Merry Christmas.

Shaking my head, I sent her a thumbs-up, and that was… well, that. Twenty-five years of marriage and our first message to each other in four months amounted to ten words and a thumbs-up. Still, it was better than the time we went without talking for two years. We didn’t quarrel either. We simply had nothing left to say to each other.

I pocketed my phone and grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge that I’d meant to get in the first place before the message interrupted me. I shut the door with my hip and returned to the living room. Pascal, my best friend and former co-owner of my ranch, had been here for a few hours, but I still couldn’t get over how amazing he looked—more relaxed and smiling.

Happiness looked good on him. Managing the ranch had started taking a toll on him, and I felt bad for giving him a hard time when he first mentioned his intention to sell his share of the ranch.

“Thanks.” He took the bottle from me. “But you should have brought the six-pack.”

Chuckling, I settled down across from him in the worn, dark brown leather armchair. “I’m afraid I can’t join you in getting drunk tonight, Pas. Carter should be here any moment now. I’d rather be sober for that.”

“Carter’s visiting?” The surprise on Pascal’s face resembled mine when the elder of my two sons had called to let me know he would drop by for the holidays. “How in the world did you get him to do that?”

I shrugged. “Believe it or not, it was his idea.”

“That boy’s just like his momma.” Pascal took a long gulp of his beer. “Prefers the pretentious city life over the much more honest and open countryside.”

“Not everyone who lives in the city is pretentious, and let’s not forget you moved away from that honest and open countryside to live in Florida.”

“South Florida, mind you, and I still operate a ranch, just much smaller this time.”

“What about that sweet young thing I saw sitting on your lap the last time you called me?”

Pascal’s face turned red, and he squirmed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I snorted. “Like hell, you don’t. Seriously, Pascal, what were you thinking? That boy looks young enough to be your son.”

“Well, I don’t have a son. You want to know what I was thinking, Gray?”

“Clue me in.”

“That after living on the ranch and fucking around with some hard-muscled ranch hands, a sweet, soft boy who likes to cuddle up in my lap is a change I didn’t know I needed.”

“Is it serious?”

He shrugged. “Who knows? For now, he gives me what I want, and vice versa. We understand each other.”

“You don’t want more out of the relationship? Love? Someone you can grow old with?”

“I already have one foot in the grave. The least I can do is enjoy the rest of the time I have. And what about you?” He pointed the almost empty bottle of beer at the framed photographs on the mantel. The pictures were of my two boys when they were younger and one of Emma and me on our wedding day. “When was the last time you slept with your wife, Gray?”

I held up my hand. “Point taken. I’ll stop prying.” I checked my watch and frowned. Carter should have been here already. What was holding him up?

“Seriously, man,” Pascal said. “You gotta know she’s not exactly living the life of a nun in Denver. How come you never bothered filing for a divorce? You two have been separated forever.”

“We’re not legally separated. We just don’t live in the same city.”

Pascal snorted and ticked off on his fingers. “You don’t live together in the same city. You don’t sleep together. You don’t even talk to each other unless it’s some emergency to do with the kids. And you sleep with different people. That marriage is fucked up, if you ask me.”

In the past, I might have been offended, but Pascal had said the same thing no less than a dozen times over the years, so I’d come to terms with it. Most importantly, I’d come to terms with my marriage. To others, my relationship with Emma didn’t make sense. The entire town of Bristlecone Springs knew the only thing we shared were two sons and a surname. She had no desire to return to living in the countryside, and I’d gotten tired of that “pretentious” city life Pascal had mentioned.

At first, I’d tried to live in both places, but my trips to Denver got less frequent until I finally stopped altogether. Emma couldn’t stand the sight of a cow pie, and I couldn’t stand all the manure coming from city folk.

“It is what it is,” I said. “I’m not looking to marry again, so why bother to upset things? Emma and I understand each other. There’s no animosity between us whatsoever.”

“You say that now until you meet someone who makes you change your mind.”

“I’m over that stage in my life, Pas.”

He dropped his gaze to my groin. “Your hoe stick no longer works?”

“Hoe stick?” A bark of laughter escaped me. “Really? Is that what your sugar baby is calling yours now?”

He shrugged. “You get the point. Well? Does it still work?”

“My hoe stick works just fine, Pas. If I need some action, I get it outside of town.”

“Why so far? No one in the town’s attractive enough for you?”

“This is a small town. If those two busybodies, Elizabeth and Leanne, see you talking with a woman for too long, they’re spreading gossip that you’re together. I’ll take a hard pass on that.”

“You should come to Florida and spend some time with me. You’ll be beating women off with a stick, especially with you being loaded.”

“Not my thing. I prefer a one-night stand wanting me for my body rather than my money.” The doorbell rang, and I stood, my heart thumping hard. I shouldn’t be nervous about seeing my son, except with Carter, I could never tell which side of him I was getting. He’d hated every moment on the ranch when he visited me. The very opposite of his younger brother, Matty, who was a carbon copy of me.

“Carter?” Pascal asked.

“Should be. Let me check.”

“And grab me another beer when you’re coming back, will ya?”

“Sure.”

I entered the foyer, pausing briefly to check my appearance in the rustic mirror on the wall. I ran a hand through my hair and straightened my flannel shirt. Not that it would make a difference. Carter would only see me as nothing but a country bumpkin… with millions. Whenever he bothered to get in touch, money was always the motive.

How much does he need this time?

Showering him with money had made him into a spoiled young man, but I’d felt guilty about our broken home and given him everything he wanted. If I could do it all over again, I would have said no more and not let him skip the vacations he was supposed to spend with his brother and me at the ranch.

At least he was here this time of his own accord. Things might finally look up.

Smiling, I opened the door. The uncharacteristic quiet from the working houses signified that most workers had gone home to be with their families for Christmas. Only essential employees and those without families had stayed.

A powerful gust of wind howled, and the two figures on the porch braced themselves against the impact.

“Lawson?” Although he no longer worked for the ranch full-time since restoring the Moonlight Range, he still offered a hand when necessary. He’d left about half an hour ago after we’d discussed increasing the feed for our livestock during the bitter winter months. “What are you doing back here?”

A half foot behind him stood a young man with a round, chubby face wrapped up in a black bomber jacket with the collar turned up and a red wool scarf around his neck. What the hell was this?

“I found him on his way to the ranch. On foot.” Lawson’s voice was full of reprimand. “His car overturned in the ditch, so I had to bring him here, but I’ve got to get home to Opie. When the snow eases up some, you might want to get a few of the guys to pull his car out of the ditch. Doesn’t seem badly damaged.”

I still had no idea who the young man was, but Lawson was already on his way to his truck. Shit. I couldn’t leave the shivering man standing out in the cold. I stepped aside and held the door open for him. “Come on inside.”

“Th-thank you.” He squeezed by me, and I shut the door. He closed his eyes, bit his bottom lip, and moaned. “Oh god, the heat feels so good.” He yanked off his beanie, revealing thick, blond hair that brushed his cheeks.

Someone rapped against the door, and I yanked it open. Lawson thrust a bag of gifts into my arms. “Don’t forget these. Merry Christmas!”

The door closed again, leaving me in the hall with a stranger. A stranger who’d brought gifts.

“Aren’t you a little too young to be Santa Claus?” I asked.

He giggled, which he tried to repress, but his pink lips were stretched into a smile. “I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. You must be, Mr. Magnuson. Right?”

“Right. And you are?”

He tugged off his gloves and extended his right hand. “I’m Ozzie.”

I reluctantly accepted his handshake. His hand was soft, like touching a cloud. So different from mine, which was full of calluses and probably felt rough on his skin. “I’m sorry. The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“It doesn’t?” He looked crestfallen, and his smile faltered. “Carter said he told you about me.”

“Carter? Carter’s here?”

“Yes, well, technically, but not here here.”

“Oh my god, he’s not still in the car, is he?”

He shook his head. “You see, Carter met up with some of his buddies at the bar, and… he decided to stay with one for the night.”

Disappointed, I nodded, trying to mask the sting of rejection. “I suppose that’s okay. One night in town won’t hurt. We’ll get to see each other tomorrow.”

“Actually, sir, that’s why I’m here.” He bit his bottom lip. I found myself oddly fixated on how his perfect white teeth hooked into the flesh.

I blinked several times. “Please speak plainly. Who are you to Carter?”

“Carter’s my fiancé. I’m so embarrassed to have to tell you like this, but he promised me he talked to both you and his mother about it. He must have forgotten.”

“Carter’s engaged to you ?” I swept my gaze over the plus-sized guy. Beneath the bomber jacket, he probably had more than a couple of extra pounds on him. Not exactly Carter’s type. Since he came out as bi when he was fifteen, the guys he dated were always muscular.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes glinted with uncertainty and vulnerability. “You don’t think I’m… good enough for your son.”

“Of course not. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I don’t know you well enough to make such a statement.”

“Then what are you trying to say?”

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. There was no way I could answer that question truthfully and not have it come back to bite me in the ass. “I meant nothing by it. You were saying?”

“We’re not actually here to stay for the holiday,” he said, the happy gleam gone. He was avoiding my gaze. Was it because of what I’d said? “We’re just passing through Bristlecone Springs to get to Aspen, so I told Carter we should drop by and bring you some presents. He really intended to come, but he got distracted by old friends he ran into. Tomorrow morning, we’ll be on our way again.”

My heart sank, the sting more intense than the fact that Carter had stayed in town. My son was just passing through, not planning to stay, not even for my sake. He hadn’t bothered to bring the gifts he’d bought but had his fiancé, who I had never met, bring them. What kind of son had I raised?

“I see. Why didn’t he bring these himself?” I shook the bags.

“He’s a bit, umm, unavailable.”

“You mean drunk?” I wasn’t stupid. I knew my way around social media, and I’d seen all the photos of him drinking his life away.

He nodded. “I’m sorry. I asked around for directions to your ranch to bring you the gifts. I wanted to ensure you got them.”

He was more thoughtful than my son. Carter didn’t deserve him. Maybe it was a little heartless to think of my son that way, but the truth could be a bitter pill to swallow. One I hoped like hell this young man never had to consume when he realized my son had to be marrying him for some nefarious reason.

One I could already guess at. When he got married, he could access a portion of his inheritance. But how to bring that up to a stranger? Especially one who seemed genuinely in love with my son to go to all this trouble for him?

It’s none of my business.

“Once the snow lets up, I’ll take you back to town,” I said. “Let me hang up your coat for you.”

“Thank you. I hate being a bother, but I didn’t expect the roads to be like that when I left, or I wouldn’t have tried. Carter’s going to be so mad I wrecked the rental.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was thoughtful of you to bring the gifts.”

He shrugged off his jacket. Underneath, he wore a plain gray sweatshirt and a pair of dark denim jeans with boots. As he handed the jacket to me, the sweatshirt stretched over his love handles, thick waistline, and overdeveloped chest.

I glanced away quickly, carefully hung up his coat, and gestured for Ozzie to go in. “Living room’s to your right. I’ll get you something warm to drink.”

“Thank you.”

Ozzie moved with a grace unexpected for a man his size, swaying his hips from side to side. My gaze landed on his generous backside, full and rounded, rolling with his rhythmic steps. My gut tightened, and my mouth went dry.

Damn beer was putting unwanted thoughts in my head.