Where There's A Will

A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

Where There’s a Will

ISBN #978-1-78184-010-8

©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2012

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright June 2012

Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-melting and a sexometer of 3.

This story contains 194 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 7 pages.

Love in Xxchange

WHERE THERE’S A WILL

Bailey Bradford

Book nine in the Love in Xxchange Series

Three men who’ve given up on love find it in the most unexpected place.

A rough cowboy, a sassy spitfire, and a bartender—they sound like the start of a joke, but there’s nothing funny about the way Carlos feels when a sexy spitfire of a man blows him a kiss.

Carlos came down to Texas from the Mossy Glenn Ranch in Montana to deliver some bad news to his former boss Nick. Just one problem, his GPS unit is a lying POS. It keeps having him drive in circles and nagging him to turn in impossible places.

Then a man blows him a kiss, and reawakens a part of him Carlos thought was dead and gone. He’s a middle aged cowboy, tired and unemployed, yet when he stops for directions and sees the sexy spitfire getting jacked off by one very handsome, stacked bartender, it’s a jolt to his libido.

When Will and Troy invite him to play and make it clear they aren’t a couple, they’re just strangers like his is to them, Carlos just can’t resist.

But each of them have secrets, pain and desires, needs and hopes. Will is hated by most the town residents, Troy can’t accept his own needs, and Carlos has let his past control him for almost two decades. Can they find what they need together and in themselves? Is such a thing possible?

Dedication

To the many wonderful people I’ve met online. Thank you.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Mini Cooper: BMW of North America LLC

The Incredibles: Pixar/Walt Disney Pictures

Hummer: General Motors

Oreos: Kraft Foods

Hamburger Helper: General Mills

Jeep Wrangler: Chrysler Group LLC

Frogger: Sega/Gremlin

Oscar: Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences

Midol: Bayer

Marlboro Man: Altria Group & Philip Morris International

Chapter One

All in all, Will was pretty damned content, at least when it came to work. He had a pretty cushy gig going now, one that didn’t tax the conscience he usually kept hidden away. Sometimes being a private investigator called for him to do things that just skirted the edges of ethical, or at least it felt that way to him. Having to spy on a guy who’d been through hell had sucked, but Will had been paid to do it—paid well, honestly—and even though he’d felt kind of shitty about it, he’d figured it was better that he be the one hunting down James Stratton than some other PI who wouldn’t have hesitated snatching the dude and dragging him back to his hoity-toity snotty parents.

At least Will had outright refused to do that, and had even threatened to alert James Stratton’s friends if Mr and Mrs Stratton brought someone else in to abduct James like they’d said they would. He wasn’t the brightest damn crayon in the box, but even he could see that James was in a good place—i.e., away from his insanely overprotective parents. Maybe there’d been a time when Will would have done what the elder Stratton’s wanted, but with age came wisdom and all that shit. He’d had some life lessons that had taught him to listen to his conscience for the most part, so he’d stayed on the job and bullied Mr and Mrs Stratton, because that was the only way to handle people like that. They sure didn’t understand that their way wasn’t the best way.

Will snorted. Yeah, that was familiar. Sounded kinda like his own folks, except they weren’t wealthy. Middle class, which in today’s economy could be financially flush one moment then scraping for the mortgage payment the next, but definitely not wealthy. Still, his dad had that same rigid personality as Mr Stratton, that I’m right and anyone who doesn’t agree is too fucking stupid to see how intellectually superior I am type attitude. His mom, however, wasn’t like Mrs Stratton, not with her nose so damn high in the air she’d drown if she got caught out in the rain.

No, his mom was more the quiet, skittish type who went along with whatever Will’s dad said. If Will didn’t know better, he’d think his mom was an abused spouse, but she wasn’t. His dad doted on her—nope, Wilma Leaks was just a quiet, easily spooked person who was perfectly content to always let someone else lead, even if it was in a shitty direction. And not a single one of her kids—all boys, poor Mom—had turned out like her. Will kinda thought his dad would have bullied it out of them, if he or any of his four brothers had been as shy and demure as their mom.

And why the fuck am I thinking about this stuff now? Will muttered to himself as he reached for the volume button on the car stereo. There was a reason he had a killer sound system in his little Mini Cooper. Will had a tendency to brood and sink into a funk if he gave himself half a chance, especially when it came to thinking about his job working for his dad or…well, when he thought about his family much at all, because they were kind of a mess. He figured most families were, though. After all, look at the Strattons. They sure did hurt their own son doing what they thought was best…or what they thought was best for them.

The case bothered him, like a constant itch between his shoulder blades. Really, he’d almost quit once or twice, had even gone so far as to haul ass out of town, only to be caught speeding. But it looked like something had changed finally, because while he was still employed by the Strattons’, his job description had changed from being invasive and spying to something more along the lines of just keeping an eye on James Stratton. Will could do that, and not feel quite so skeevy about it. And if he also got to eyeball Glenn, well, that was good too. The older man was just hot, but Will wouldn’t have tried to seduce him for the world. James deserved something good in his life. But Will could look, just not as obviously as he had before.

Enough already, Will sniped at himself. He’d had so many moody moments he was seriously considering investing in some Midol or something. Jesus. One shitty case and I start doing that whole introspection crap. Maybe I should go fishing or hunting or something— Will laughed and flipped the volume up until the bass made his heart thump in his chest. He was so not the fishing or hunting type. More the club and random fucking type, he muttered, grinning when he couldn’t even hear his own voice. Loud music was good—caused the few brain cells trying to make him stress to pulse and probably explode or something. He stopped at a four-way and played with the buttons until he found a Prince song he just had to shriek along with.

Will wasn’t a shy person at all, and singing and bouncing to a beat in his car was something he did regularly and shamelessly. What did he care who saw him? Especially here in this small Texas town of Truett? No one knew him, and the people who knew of him didn’t like him, so if they saw him and laughed, who cared? Besides, it was Prince and who could resist that part where the little dude about broke the mic screeching? Not Will, that’s for sure!

He pulled away from the four-way and bounced in his seat, working a little shimmy up to his shoulders as he scraped his throat raw trying to match the singer’s vocals on the last couple of lines. He wasn’t half bad, and damn but he could wiggle his ass even sitting down! Will bobbed his head and narrowed his eyes as he hit the last couple of words before letting out a breathy, growly Kiss, delighted at the perfect timing of an oncoming car. It passed him just in time for Will to pucker up and blow a big kiss towards the driver, and Will couldn’t help laughing afterwards at the cowboy’s expression.

The man had had his window down, so yeah, Will had been able to see his weathered features, which had been damn sexy in that Marlboro Man way. Add the shocked look on the man’s face, his dark eyes going wide and the way he swerved his big old truck when Will glanced in his side mirror after he passed the dude, and it was pretty funny. Until the cowboy hit his brakes and pulled over to the side of the road. Then it was kinda on the scary side, and Will instantly regretted his impulsive action, because, yeah, small town Texas, big older cowboy…

Sometimes he could really be a dumbass, Will thought. Scary visions of being chased down by the cowboy flashed through Will’s head as the truck began a u-turn. Will squeaked and shot a glance at his glove box…his tiny glove box that held an equally tiny gun. The big grey truck completed the turn as sweat broke out on Will’s palms and brow, and above his upper lip.

Will eased the gas pedal down, not wanting to appear scared or anything else that would make him seem weak, or like…like prey. Then the truck lurched forward and Will thought, fuck it! He floored the gas pedal and shot down the road.

* * * *

Carlos cursed and glanced at the damn map again. Between it and the GPS navigation, he was totally lost. How the hell was he supposed to turn onto a road that wasn’t there? And if that damned snooty voice told him one more time that it was recalculating he was going to put his fist through the stupid little box and through the windshield the unit was stuck to as well.

Make a u-turn.

Shut up, he mumbled as he tried to get his bearings. All he wanted to do was find the ranch that Nick was living and working on. Jesus, you’d think he was on some bizarre treasure hunt, as complicated as this trip was turning out to be! But the Mossy Glenn was in trouble, thanks to Nick’s momma’s greed, and maybe Nick didn’t want shit to do with the Mossy G—Carlos couldn’t blame him there—and maybe Nick was pissed at his momma—and again, Carlos couldn’t blame Nick at all.

But the truth was, Nick had always been a good son even though his momma was a crazy, mean old bat. Nick wouldn’t want her to be homeless, which was close to happening. Carlos could have called, but he had his own reasons for coming to Texas and talking to Nick face to face.

Make a u-turn.

All right! Carlos snapped. He turned his head and nearly wrecked his truck when a cute young woman puckered up and blew him a kiss from a passing car. Carlos jerked the wheel and got the truck back in his lane at about the same time his brain processed the fact that it hadn’t been a woman who’d blown his a kiss, not unless the women in Texas were on the hairy side. There’d been a glimpse of smooth skin and sideburns, longish ones that curved under high cheekbones. Carlos pulled the truck over and looked in his rearview. He wasn’t really seeing the bright blue little car, though. Instead it was those full lips pursed and the dark, thick sideburns, the narrowed eyes that he just bet were lit with laughter right about now.

Make a u-turn. Carlos narrowed his own eyes. Was the guy laughing at him? Had he seen something Carlos usually kept hidden away? Naw, not in that split second. More than likely the guy had just been messing around, probably just having fun, something Carlos would swear he didn’t know anything about anymore. His lips twitched as he saw the guy checking in his side mirror.

I might not know how to have fun anymore, Carlos grumbled as he started making a u-turn. But I bet you could damn sure show me how.

Carlos’ smile felt predatory and his heart thudded in his chest, but he wasn’t going to chase the other man. Now, if the guy just happened to think Carlos would, well, that wasn’t Carlos fault now, was it? He was just following the stupid navigation thingie.

The Mini Cooper surged forward, the driver shooting a startled glance at Carlos as he came up behind the smaller car. Carlos tried not to grin, because he really wasn’t going to follow the man, but still adrenaline flooded his veins and he couldn’t help but mutter, The chase is on, baby. He stayed behind the car, at a decent distance, letting thoughts of the way the man’s sideburns would feel against his thighs, his balls, the way his pursed mouth would be hot and heavenly around his dick—Carlos let those thoughts bring him to full aching hardness before he started feeling like a really creepy pervert, then he pissed off the navigation unit again by turning down a road it didn’t tell him to. Carlos slapped at the thing and turned it off, then he forced himself to keep driving away from the man he was irrationally tempted to keep following.

Chapter Two

Tuesdays were, in Troy’s opinion, the worst nights to work at The Xxchange. He sighed and rubbed at a spot on the bar, keeping one eye on the door. Slow nights were the worst, absolutely. Give him a rowdy crowd cursing and demanding their drinks be served faster, that was all well and good and, even if he occasionally wanted to slap the shit out of a customer or two, at least time flew by. Tuesday nights, though, they just sucked. He’d already checked every glass for water spots, wrote up the liquor order and the rest of the supply order. He’d swept and polished the mirrors and the bar, and rearranged every fucking bottle of liquor, lining them up perfectly so their labels were facing forward. And he was bored out of his ever lovin’ mind.

Don’t look so pissed, you’ll scare any customers who come in right back out the door.

Troy canted his head and cut his eyes at Xavier Talbot, owner—well, co-owner now—of The Xxchange. Where’s Chase? Usually those two were inseparable, which, yeah, sometimes Troy was a little jealous, but usually he was just happy for Chase and Xavier. Since Chase had become a co-owner of The Xxchange, there’d been lots of talk about changing the place up, and Troy hoped the talk became a reality. Maybe he was just getting old, but all the slutty behaviour that went on here tended to annoy him now, whereas it’d been a huge turn-on years ago when he’d first started.

You didn’t hear a word I said, Xavier growled, jabbing Troy in the ribs.

Troy grunted and recovered from his mental lapse quick enough to pop Xavier on the ass with the towel he’d been polishing the bar with.

Bitch, Xavier chuckled, and Troy shook his head, still a little unused to the change in Xavier. The man hadn’t ever been a dick, but he’d never been as friendly as he was now. Guess loving Chase changed him—or getting laid regularly changed him. Either way, Troy kind of liked the playful side of his boss, especially since he was seeing more and more of it lately.

You started it, Troy pointed out, winding the towel again in case he needed to defend himself.

Because I’m bored as hell. Xavier eyed the towel then sighed and put his back to the bar. He leant back and put his weight on his elbows, ether protecting his butt from another strike or just relaxing, Troy wasn’t sure which. Xavier turned his head, looking down the rows of liquor lining the shelves. Looks like you’re bored, too.

Troy snorted. You know Tuesdays are dead. We’ve got a dozen people in here, and half of them are probably too busy screwing in the bathroom to bother with ordering drinks. The rest are nursing their drinks. I am so beyond bored it ain’t funny.

Xavier quirked an eyebrow at him. You know Tuesday’s are like this. You could have scheduled someone else to work.

Yeah, I could have, Troy admitted, But then I’d probably be short a person when they died of boredom, or quit because they didn’t make jackshit in tips. Better just to keep Tuesdays scheduled for myself. Troy had been managing the bar for a good while now and he tried to put his fellow co-workers needs ahead of his own. His finances were pretty secure, but he knew most of the people working at The Xxchange weren’t as lucky as he was.

Well, if Chase has his way, Tuesdays might pick up a bit—and not with the horny fuck crowd, Xavier said as he tapped his fingers against the curved edged of the bar. That’s what Chase is doing right now. He’s locked himself in our office at home and is researching all sorts of music acts for the slower nights. He—and I agree with him—wants to bring in some classier acts during the week, at least. We aren’t sure about whether or not we should mess with the weekend band.

Troy frowned at Xavier. So you want classy during the week and trashy on the weekends? The light turned on in his head before Xavier could reply. Or you want to make sure this place doesn’t go broke, maybe see how the week goes and whether or not you and Chase can ease something new into the weekends.

You got it, Xavier said, his fingers tapping out a faster beat. The man was twitchy, all coiled up energy and Troy figured he knew what was coming. Xavier looked at him, a hopeful expression lighting his features. So, since you’re bored too, would you feel like taking over for me tonight? His lips curled into a grin. It can’t possibly get any more boring here.

And Xavier no doubt had plans for a much more interesting way to spend his evening. Troy shrugged. It wasn’t like he was busy, after all. Sure. Go on, you’re twitchy and that’s just weird. Get out of here.

Xavier didn’t waste any time hitting the door, and Troy tried to ignore the pang of envy as he watched the man leave. What would it be like, having someone he wanted to rush home to? Would loving someone make him all happy and playful like it seemed to have made Xavier? Troy wasn’t even sure he wanted something like what Xavier and Chase had. The one time he’d kind of fallen for someone had left him hurting, and he didn’t know if he was willing to risk his heart again.

He went back to wiping the already spotless bar down again, only to glance up when the door opened. Figuring it was Xavier back to grab something he’d forgotten, Troy’s sarcastic greeting died on his tongue when he spotted the lithe man now walking towards the bar. The club lighting made his collar length hair look dark, but Troy was used to the lighting and he thought the guy probably had medium brown hair. His sideburns accentuated the high cheekbones and emphasised his fine bone structure, and his wide mouth curled up at the corners, as if the man was constantly amused, making Troy think of all the wicked things that mouth could do.

Slim, almost too much so, but moving with the grace of a cat, the man practically oozed sex. Troy’s mouth watered as he watched those lean hips for a second, then he dragged his gaze up, over a skintight blue T-shirt framing the slight swell of pecs. His gaze tangled with a wide, heated one—maybe green or blue, he couldn’t tell yet—and the look there went straight to Troy’s cock, firming it more with each step the newcomer took.

Troy whipped the towel off the bar and tucked it in his pocket. He braced his hands on the polished wood and pretty much preened, knowing well the pose showed off his muscled chest and well-defined arms. He nailed the guy with a hungry look and was delighted when he thought he detected a slight shiver run through that sexy body.

The man slowed and put a little more sway in his hips and Troy damn near came in his jeans. The way the stranger smiled told Troy he knew exactly what effect he was having on Troy. Figuring two could play the seduction game, Troy lowered his lids and zeroed in on the prominent bulge pressing against the guy’s zipper. Troy watched appreciatively as, without the slightest hesitation, he ran a hand over his cock and squeezed.

Jesus, Troy muttered, certain something had shorted out in his head, because he couldn’t think to form any other words. All he could do was stare and hope he wasn’t drooling as the little tease rubbed his groin. When he stopped right in front of the bar, Troy practically dug his nails into the wood to keep from lunging over the bar and fucking him into the floor. Or over the bar, which was a favourite fantasy of his.

The man