Vying for his Affection (A Loving Nip Book 19)

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

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  About the Author

  Just a little Love Bite: After making a joke that’s taken the wrong way by his beloved, a vampire must use every trick in the book to earn forgiveness.

  At five-foot-two and skinny to boot, Maximus Bonner has always been a little sensitive about his size. When he’s forced by his job to attend a team-building activity at Rolling Meadows Ranch and Resort, his worst fears are realized—outdoor activities. On top of that, he overhears the hottest cowboy at the place making fun of the little stringbean. His anger getting the best of him, Max lodges a complaint against the sexy man.

  As a vampire, Rhyme Mythstone has been waiting for his beloved for over a century. Imagine his surprise when he comes in the form of a tiny slip of a redhead with a fiery temper. With one teasing comment, his chance at wooing the human goes up in flames. Max wants nothing to do with him. Can Rhyme figure out a way to prove that he loves his beloved’s size and can make him happy?

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Vying for his Affection

  Copyright © 2019 Charlie Richards

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-2667-5

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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  Vying for his Affection

  A Loving Nip Book 19

  By

  Charlie Richards

  Dedication

  Small doesn’t mean insignificant. Small can be mighty.

  ~Unknown

  Chapter One

  Maximus Bonner stared out the window as he rubbed his hand over his chin. Feeling the slight rasp of his whiskers, he scratched idly. He wondered if there was a way to get out of this that he’d missed.

  Probably not.

  “Hey, come on. It won’t be that bad.” Lilibeth Shaunders tapped Max’s arm where it laid on the armrest of the SUV’s centrally located captain’s chair, drawing his attention. “Fresh air. Hot tubs. All you can eat buffets.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Hot cowboys to ogle. It’ll be fun!”

  Max arched his left brow. “Really? Fun?” He pointed out the window at the rolling hills, grassy meadows, and scrubby oaks. “That’s nature out there. Bugs, spiders, snakes, mosquitos, and animal hair all over my clothes. That’s not fun.” Waving his hand at his slender body covered in charcoal gray dress slacks and a form-fitting green polo shirt, Max added, “And do you really think the cowboys are going to miss all this fabulousness?” He met Lilibeth’s gaze once more, displeased to see the amusement in her expression. Huffing a sigh, Max stated, “Hello. I’m gay. I’m gonna have my ass handed to me.”

  “No, you won’t,” Lilibeth countered.

  “We got your back, man,” Stanton grumbled in his deep rough voice from where he sat in the middle of the rear bench seat. Due to the man’s huge six-foot-five size, he had the seat all to himself. Stanton leaned forward and patted Max on the shoulder. “No one’ll hurt your skinny ass while we’re around. Right, guys?”

  Jerome, who was driving, simply lifted one hand from the wheel and offered a thumbs-up, obviously too busy checking the GPS and road signs. Turning in the passenger seat, George met Max’s gaze and winked. “You’re safe with us, Maxie.”

  Rolling his eyes, Max gritted his teeth at the stupid nickname that made him think of feminine hygiene products. “You know I hate it when you call me that.” Max also knew that was exactly why George did it.

  Asshole.

  George didn’t care that he was gay, at least. He just had a mouth on him. The guy was abrasive to almost everyone... except the bosses—Vernon and Lloyde.

  The brothers owned and operated the local franchise branch of Winnerman Construction. Stanton worked as a bricklayer and made some impressive creations, while Jerome and George handled framing and drywall. Lilibeth took care of human resources. She was the one who’d put in a good word for Max when the bosses needed to hire a new accountant.

  “Problem is, you all won’t be around all the time,” Max pointed out. “And the SUV the bosses are driving is full of homophobes and assholes.”

  Still, Max appreciated he hadn’t needed to ride with them. He had never tried to hide his sexuality, and while the bosses didn’t care, construction seemed to draw a lot of testosterone-filled jerks. The three guys and one woman in the other vehicle—Anthony, Benjamin, Curtis, and Esmerelda—took issue to the fact that Max was gay. They often made snide comments, pushed him aggressively, and smacked his shoulder or head whenever they could get away with it.

  Over the three months of working at Winnerman Construction, Max had become damn good at avoiding them or making certain someone else was in the room when he couldn’t.

  Lilibeth’s laughter filled the vehicle.

  “What?” Max asked warily as he eyed his grinning friend.

  Smirking, Lilibeth leaned toward him. “When I heard where we were doing this team-building activity thing, I did some research. Rolling Meadows Ranch and Resort is owned and operated by a pair of men... who are married”—continuing to grin broadly, she winked—”to each other.”

  “The place is run by fags?” Stanton questioned. “Oh. Sorry.” He leaned forward and patted Max on the shoulder again. “Didn’t mean it like that.”

  Max glanced behind him and offered Stanton a smile and nod, barely resisting the urge to rub his shoulder. The friendly bruiser sitting behind him really had no inkling of his own strength. He was also a kind man. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body. Stanton just didn’t understand that calling a gay man a fag wasn’t polite.

  Sadly, Stanton sort of lived up to his image—a big, dumb, gentle giant.

  I like him, though.

  “Well that’s a relief,” Max commented before humming as a smile curved his lips. “Maybe a few of the cowboys are, too. Maybe—”

  He fell quiet, but Lilibeth—best friend since fifth grade that she was—must have read his mind. “Maybe a roll in the hay will be on the docket for your weekend?” she finished his sentence in a teasing tone.

  Max felt his fair cheeks heat, betraying that he blushed. He hated his fair skin, but it wasn’t as if he could change it. With his red hair and freckles, his skin always
gave away his thoughts.

  “Why would you want to roll in the hay?” Stanton asked, breaking the silence. “Didn’t you just say you didn’t like bugs? I figure there would be plenty in there.”

  To Max’s relief, Lilibeth turned in her seat to answer. She smiled widely at Stanton as she reached back and patted Stanton’s knee. “If someone goes for a roll in the hay with someone else, it means they’re having sex,” Lilibeth explained in a blunt fashion that she only used with Stanton. At first, it had shocked Max, but now he understood it. The man needed straightforward answers.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Max watched Stanton shift in his seat. He rubbed the back of his neck as a faint glow lit up his bronzed cheeks. Then he shook his head.

  “Naw, Lilibeth. That can’t be right. Getting naked in hay would be uncomfortable.”

  Jerome chuckled from ahead of them. “She’s telling the truth, buddy,” he countered. “Normally you lay on your clothes or bring a blanket.”

  “Oh. Huh.” Stanton nodded as he fell silent, his gaze straying to the window.

  Max had no idea how long Stanton and Jerome had been friends, but the big blond always took the wiry black man’s word as gold. The pair drove in together and left together. According to the addresses for their paychecks, they lived together, but Max’s gaydar said they weren’t a couple.

  “Slow the fuck down, Jerome,” George ordered gruffly. “Or you’re gonna miss the turn.”

  “Relax, G,” Jerome replied. “I ain’t gonna miss it.”

  Jerome did slow down, however. A few seconds later, he turned the SUV onto a gravel driveway that disappeared around a bend. Max returned his attention to the window, feeling a little better about the upcoming weekend.

  If I’m going to be forced to go on this stupid retreat, at least I won’t get knocked around for checking out the cowboys.

  At the last monthly safety meeting—I don’t know why I have to sit in on those meetings either, but whatever—the bosses had explained that the mandate had been passed down by the corporate office. All employees had to participate. The only reason someone could get out of it was if they’d had a doctor’s note.

  Oh well. At least I’m being paid for the weekend.

  After the vehicle rounded the hill, Max peered out the window. “Oh, wow,” he couldn’t help but mutter. The place that sprawled out before them was huge.

  “Aww, look at the baby cows,” Lilibeth cried, pointing out the window.

  “There’s baby horses on this side,” Max told her.

  Lilibeth gasped and leaned half over him, her dark ponytail hitting him in the face.

  Snickering, Max pushed her hair over her shoulder. He grinned upon seeing her smile. His old friend really did love baby animals. The only reason Lilibeth didn’t have a pet of her own was because she lived in an apartment complex that didn’t allow them.

  “We’re here,” Jerome stated needlessly after he’d parked in front of a building marked Office.

  “Good.” Stanton unbuckled his belt. “I need to stretch my legs.”

  Jerome laughed as he opened his door, his white teeth flashing in his dark face. “It was only an hour drive,” he teased before exiting the car.

  As Max followed suit, he heard Stanton following as he stated, “So. I hate sitting that long.”

  Max glanced at the huge man, having to look up... and up, seeing as he only stood five-foot-two. He barely reached Stanton’s sternum. “I don’t like long drives, either,” he commented as he took his bag from George where the other man was pulling their luggage from the back. “That’s why I ride a bike to work.”

  “And because you can hardly reach the gas pedal of most cars,” a snide voice commented with a snort. Then an elbow jabbed into Max’s kidney. “Ain’t that right, Max?”

  “No,” Max replied, stepping away from Benjamin.

  Asshole.

  “Lay off, Ben,” Stanton ordered, using his big body to urge Max out of the way, so he could grab his own bag.

  Max noticed Benjamin open his mouth, but then Lloyde rounded the back of the second SUV, and he snapped it shut again. His eyes narrowed even as he grinned at the boss. “Thanks, Lloyde,” Benjamin offered as he took his bag from him.

  “Head toward the office,” Lloyde stated, making a shooing motion with his now-free hand. “We need to get settled in. The dinner buffet opens in thirty minutes, and I’m ready for some fried chicken.”

  Following everyone, Max stuck close to Lilibeth and Stanton. The woman behind the counter smiled as she greeted them—Nancy, according to her nametag. Vernon took the lead, telling her who they were and referencing their reservation.

  “Of course,” she replied, handing over a number of brochures. “I’m Nancy. Welcome to Rolling Meadows Ranch. Here we have calf roping, fishing, trail riding, and—”

  Max allowed his mind to fade Nancy out as she spoke in favor of taking the brochure Lilibeth handed him and reading about everything himself. Trail riding did sound fun. He had no desire to learn how to rope a cow.

  “Oh, look”—Lilibeth pointed to the bottom—”a hay wagon ride to a chuckwagon dinner.”

  “Chuckwagon dinner?” Max repeated quietly. “What’s that?”

  Nancy must have heard his question, for she replied, “The chuck wagon dinner is where the main food is cooked over an open fire. The meat choices are hamburger and chicken breast. There’s sliced potatoes, onions, and carrots cooked with the meat, and there’s also a veggie option. Other available sides are baked beans, coleslaw, mac and cheese, and for dessert, apple cobbler.”

  “Mmmm, apple cobbler,” Stanton mumbled, rubbing his flat stomach.

  After laughing lightly, Nancy returned her attention to Vernon. “Okay, then. Here are your cabin assignments.” She pointed to a map on the counter that Max could barely make out. “These three here will comfortably accommodate three men each, and I figure the fourth smaller one is for the two ladies?”

  “Maybe the girls and Max should take one of the trio cabins,” Anthony cut in, a smirk curving his thin lips. His dark eyes were narrowed, malice glimmering in their depths. “Him being a fag and all.”

  “Ugh, no,” Esmeralda snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not bunking with him.”

  “Why?” Curtis snorted. “Not like you have anything he’s interested in.”

  Nancy’s eyes narrowed just a smidge as she glanced between the trio who’d spoken. If Max didn’t miss his guess, she just managed to keep from saying something, and she didn’t look pleased.

  Huh. Guess this really is a gay-friendly place. Nice.

  Fortunately, Lloyde spoke up. “Knock that shit off. All of you.” He glanced around at everyone before ordering, “Stanton, George, and Max, you take this cabin.” He handed a key to George. “Jerome, you’re with me and my brother.” Then he held a key out to Anthony. “You’re with those yahoos, and Esmerelda, here’s you and Lilibeth’s key.”

  Max let out a sigh of relief. While bunking with George could end up annoying, what with his mouth and all, it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened.

  As they all trooped out of the office and went their separate ways, with Jerome and Vernon moving the vehicles, Max wondered if the brothers knew more about the harassment that went on in their company than they let on.

  And if they do, why don’t they do something about it?

  Chapter Two

  Rhyme Mythstone pulled his hat off his head. With his other hand, he rubbed his bandana over his bald head, wiping away the sweat. Then he slapped his hat back on as he shoved the damp cloth into his back pocket.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

  Turning from where he was cinching the saddle on the horse tied to the hitching post, Rhyme eyed Murdoch. His brows lifted as he took in the small quarter horse mare the fellow vampire was leading. The mare was a good trail horse, but they didn’t normally use her when she was pregnant... as she was now.

  Plus, she was on the small side at onl
y fourteen-hands, and right then, they didn’t have any children at the ranch.

  “Why are you bringing Lily here?” Rhyme asked curiously before returning his attention to saddling the horse—Jake.

  “One of the guys that came with the construction company is a little stringbean,” Murdoch told him with a chuckle. He tied Lily beside Jake and picked up a brush to start grooming her. “Gypsum thought the guy would be more comfortable riding something small.”

  Rhyme nodded absently. That made sense... except. “And Rupert wasn’t available?” he asked, referring to an equally small gelding they had. They didn’t keep a lot of small horses, since the ranch didn’t often get children as guests.

  “I checked him first, but he was limping. Looks like he threw a shoe. I took him to Abner to fix, but he was in the middle of handling Gypsum’s stallion, so he could be a while.” Murdoch shook his head as he winced. “And if the shoeing doesn’t fix Rupert’s limping, Abner will take him to London.”

  Reaching down, Rhyme grabbed the rear cinch and fixed it into place. “That’s too bad,” he commented absently as he next fitted the breast collar into position.

  Murdoch just nodded as he headed to the tack room to grab a saddle for Lily.

  Rhyme hoped the small gelding ended up okay. He knew if it was just a shoeing problem, Abner—the ranch’s resident blacksmith and farrier—would have him sorted in no time. Well, after he finished with Gypsum’s mount. The big black stallion was a damn pain in the ass, but due to size and breeding, brought the ranch a boatload of cash in stud fees.

  Finishing with Jake, Rhyme moved on to the last and final horse in the line that was tied to the hitching rail. He glanced at his watch and realized he needed to hurry. Tacking up over a dozen horses for a trail ride by himself took far longer than if Murdoch had joined him as planned.