Reining in the Bad Boy - Jacki James

1

Miller

“Hey, y'all,” I said, sliding into our booth at Cap's Coffee and Cakes.

“Hey,” my friend Ripley replied without looking up from the papers he was studying in front of him.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“He's looking for recipes for pumpkins,” Frankie said with a grin. “I think they over planted.”

“Hey, I was afraid we wouldn't have enough,” Ripley protested. “So maybe I went overboard.”

I gasped in feigned surprise. “You? Go overboard? Surely not.”

He looked up and rolled his eyes at me. “Look, no way I was bringing a bunch of kids out to the ranch to pick pumpkins and not have plenty of pumpkins to choose from.”

“Can't the goats eat them?”

“Sure, and I’ll feed them the carving pumpkins, but I also have a bunch of sugar pumpkins, and I don't want to waste those.”

“Sugar pumpkins?”

“Yeah, they're the kind that you use to make pies and stuff. I had this crazy idea that the parents would bring the kids to choose a carving one and buy the sugar ones to make pies. I underestimated how much easier a can of pumpkin was to bake with. I didn't have many takers.” He shrugged. “Live and learn, right?”

I picked up one of the recipes and looked at it. “You, Ripley Ellis-Warner, are going to use pumpkins you grew and make”—I glanced back at the paper—“spiced pumpkin butter? Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?”

Frankie laughed from behind the counter where he’d been setting out fresh muffins. “Money says he doesn't make it past the first batch, and the goats get all the pumpkins.”

“Nah,” Cap called over. “My money's on Margo. She runs that ranch house for Reed and Ripley like a well-oiled machine. She won't let 'em go to waste.”

“You're right,” Frankie said, giving Cap a kiss and taking a cup of coffee out of his hand before he came over to sit with us. He pushed the coffee over in front of me.

“Thanks,” I called over to Cap taking a sip. The man knew his coffee, that was for sure. This was a new one, though. “What is this?”

“It's a new blend I got in the city from a small startup. They're roasting the beans on-site, and their end product is really good. I'm thinking about adding that one permanently. What do you think?”

“I think you should. It's my favorite so far.”

“What's your favorite?” Maverick asked, walking in. “Do we have a new coffee?”

“Yes, but the nuances would be lost on you by the time you add tons of sugar and cream,” Cap said. “If you're going to add all that, you might as well drink grocery store coffee.”

“For someone with an entire menu of foo-foo coffees, you sure are a coffee snob. Now give me a pumpkin spice latte and be quiet,” he teased.

“Where's Donovan?” I asked.

“He's doing something with the bees. You know I love that man, but I'm not getting near those hives. I have someone coming in early for an appointment today anyway, so I can't stay long.” Maverick owned the local tattoo shop, and his partner was a retired Navy officer turned farmer. I looked around at my friends and once again realized I was the only single one. That was by choice but knowing that didn't mean it didn't leave me feeling a little lonely and out of place. Not that they meant to make me feel that way. They didn't. They always made sure to include me, but at some point, being the odd man out got old.

“We're meeting Cody and Eli at the Drinking Hole tonight. Y'all coming?” Ripley asked.

“Depends on what time I finish up, but I'll check with Donovan,” Maverick said. “How about you, Miller?”

“Depends. Are Cruz and Landon coming?” I wasn't really in the mood to sit around with a bunch of couples tonight. I knew Cruz and Landon because they worked on the Bluebird Ranch, the ranch Ripley owned with his husband, Reed. We weren't good friends, but I liked both men, and they would keep me from being the only single guy there.

“Nah, they’re heading into the city to hit the clubs. I’m surprised you aren't going. What was it you told me? That there weren't a lot of gay men to choose from in River Gorge, right?”

“Well, the numbers are rising. Unfortunately, y’all keep pairing up, so there still aren't many to choose from.”

“Don't tell me the great Miller Monroe is having trouble finding men,” Ripley teased.

“Nah, not Miller. He could find a man in