Page 3 of Cowboy Devil's Embrace

Fuck.

Usually, I could talk Grandmother down from whatever scheme she had in her head but Avail. He was another story.

I rubbed the top of my head and inhaled. Apparently, his older cousin Avail had arrived and was now standing beside their grandmother.

When did that asshole get here?

I huffed and quickened my pace, not caring that my manhood was swinging around in the wind. Served them right to have to see my cock and balls before breakfast.

“Couldn’t have waited for a decent hour to come at me with this, could you? Damn it. What time is it, anyway?”

“You will stop and listen! MAX!” Grandmother yelled.

I tried the doorknob to the kitchen entrance, but it was locked. Now, I hated the idea of breaking it. But another second of this shit and I would not have a choice.

“Try the little rock hide-a-key thing,” Avail murmured, still smothering his laugh.

“You know, you could have called and warned me this was about to happen,” I growled at my cousin as I bent down to find the fake stone that hid the extra key.

“Oh God, warn me first, for fuck’s sake,” Avail grumbled, and I snorted.

“What’s the matter, cousin? I’m fairly certain my asshole is prettier than your face and you look at that decrepit thing every day,” I snarked.

“You wish you reprobate,” Avail snarled.

Good to see the older man still had it in him. I smirked.

“Boys! I will remind you, I am still standing here,” Grandmother interrupted.

Technically, this was Grandmother Leeds’ property. All the family’s estates were in her name. But still. I’d have thought to have a little bit of privacy in my own—sorta—home.

“Maximillian, I mean it. If you don’t do what I am asking, the money will be gone!”

I finally unlocked the door and walked inside the kitchen where Mrs. O’Hare, my housekeeper and former nanny, was busy making breakfast. I walked in, ignoring her startled yelp.

“It’s just a cock, Mrs. O’Hare,” I said to the older Witch, who cleaned and cooked for me seven days a week.

“Yes, well, it’s only eight o’clock, Mr. Leeds. I’ll be needing a second cup of coffee if I have to face that thing,” she mumbled, waving her hand and summoning a robe for me.

“Maximillian, be polite,” Grandmother snapped.

“Sorry, Molly,” I replied and grinned, kissing the old woman on the cheek.

The Witch had been my nursemaid since birth. I’d known her my entire life. Pitiful as it sounded, she was sort of my closest friend. My surrogate mother.

How sad was that?

Avail watched the byplay without comment. Thanking Molly when she refreshed his coffee frommypot. He took one of my biscuits, too.

The jerk.

I loved breakfast. It was my favorite meal. But I didn’t stop to snag a bite or to breathe in the succulent scents of bacon and sausage frying in heavy cast iron pans.

“Good morning, Mrs. O’Hare,” Grandmother said.

“I take it you’re in trouble then, are you?” Mrs. O’Hare asked.

I could have explained, but instead, I shrugged and hightailed it to my bedroom, hoping for a moment of silence and maybe a shower before I finished this discussion with my cousin and relentless grandmother.

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