Read Montana Cowboy (Big Sky Mavericks Book 2) for Free Online Page A

first, but Peyton had been special. His junkie mother used right up to the minute she went into labor—a fact that probably factored into her stroke. Her heart didn't stop but her brain function did.
    Doctors successfully delivered Peyton, a premature addict who struggled with challenges—both physical and emotional—his entire life. Until he met Macklin, a man nine years his senior who embodied love, acceptance, and compassion.
    Mack's grounded nature had worked magic with Peyton. Ironically, Pey's personal growth couldn't have come at a worse time for Serena. As he came out of his shell, she was diving for cover to avoid an online stalker.
    "I changed my email. Stopped my blog. I'm not on any social media sites. I still need to use the Internet to do alpaca business, but I took out a business license in Crawford County using Mom's maiden name. And my new website once I get it set up won't have any photos of me or this place—only alpacas."
    He sighed weightily. "I guess that will work. But you'll call me or Mack if you feel the least bit uneasy, right?"
    Macklin had been an MP in the Marines and was the most well-armed gay man she'd ever met.
    "Yes. I promise. Go. Travel. Live my dream life while I scoop 'paca poop and give my neighbor a ride home."
    "Your neighbor? A grizzled cowboy with leathery skin and a permanent squint?"
    She pictured Austen Zabrinski. "Not even close." The distinctive banging sound of her back door made her drop the wheelbarrow handles and start toward the house. "Speaking of the devil...I have to go. Thanks for calling and thinking of me. Love you."
    She pocketed her phone and jogged across the open turn-around, her boots making a shish-shish sound on the hard ground. Her truck was parked under the sprawling cottonwood.
    Three things struck her straight off. Ugly green wasn't ugly on him. Borrowed jeans couldn't hide his great butt. And he'd left his filthy jeans and shirt on the table as she'd asked. The small concession made her happy—even if it meant washing stinky, 'paca poop pants.
    She might have claimed environmental responsibility but the best part of washing Austen Zabrinski's pants was being able to return them in person at some later date.
    "Ready to go?"
    He nodded. The cloudless sunshine made what she'd assumed were artful highlights in his hair look like the real deal. Damn, the man got more gorgeous every time she looked.
    "My foreman should be getting back from Livingston any minute. When he sees my horse, he'll call my cell. When I don't answer, he'll probably send out a search party."
    She motioned for him to follow. "Not memorizing phone numbers has to be the worst part of becoming dependent on cell phones."
    "Agreed. That and spending way too much time staring at a tiny screen. Believe me, it's tempting not to replace the damn thing."
    She thought she detected an odd hint of defeat in his statement. What's his story?
    Since they'd practically had sex—in her mind—she decided to ask.
    Once he was seated with his safety belt snug across his flat belly, she turned the key in the ignition and put the truck in gear.
    "So, fill me in. You own a ranch your brother called a tax write-off. You've as much as admitted you're nobody's cowboy. You wear three-hundred-dollar jeans. I don't see a wedding ring. Your nose is sunburned. So I take that to mean you don't have a wife or live-in girlfriend to remind you to put on sunscreen."
    He let out a gruff cough. "Very observant. The jeans are two years old."
    "But look brand new."
    "I don't—didn't—come to the ranch very often in the past."
    She waited.
    "No wife. Never married. My last...friend-with-benefits wanted more than I'm in a position to give at the moment. I'm not sure we're still friends. But I'm positive the benefits have been canceled."
    She'd always been a sucker for smart men with a sense of humor. The leftover dewy feeling in her crotch—and the fact she was a stranger in a strange land—made her bold. "So, if someone