Bucked (3 page)

He pushed open the door of the bar with his one arm that was sling-free, hoping for both liquor and entertainment to get his mind off his injury. He wasn’t at all surprised to see the room packed with bull riders, as well as women of all ages. Cowboys appealed to females both young and old.

Apparently injured cowboys were even more attractive than the everyday variety. Mustang realized every feminine gaze in the place stayed trained on him as he made his way over to where Chase and a few of the other guys stood.

“Hey, Mustang. What’d they say at the hospital?” Chase’s eyes focused on the sling.

“I’m gonna need a metal plate and a few screws…and a beer.” He signaled the bartender, pointing at Chase’s longneck bottle and holding up one finger.

Considering all the choices of alcohol he could mix with the pain pill Jenna had forced on him, beer seemed the most harmless. He probably hadn’t needed that pill anyway, but Jenna had been relentless.

“Damn. A plate and screws. I’m sorry, man. That really sucks.” His young brow furrowed beneath his blond curls.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Why was that beer taking so long? Mustang spied the bartender at the cash register ringing up another customer and sighed. Ever since he’d called his parents from the payphone in the hotel lobby and told them he was coming home, he’d really needed a drink.

“Did they tell you how long that’ll keep you out for?”

“They said pretty much what Doc Tandy did. Three to four months.” Mustang wished again the bartender would hurry.

Finally, the man delivered the blessed bottle of brew. Mustang managed to get his wallet out of his pocket, but pulling out a bill one-handed was going to be a challenge.

“Here. Take that out of here.” Chase pushed the pile of cash that was sitting in front of him toward the bartender.

“Thanks, kid.” Mustang shoved his wallet back into his pocket and sucked down a long swallow of beer. The cold foam slid down his throat.

Chase saluted Mustang with his own bottle and a grin. “No problem. Anytime. Besides, I scored really well tonight so I’m celebrating.”

“Congratulations.” Mustang took another swallow and then set his bottle down, sorry his own misery made it impossible to be happy for Chase and his high score.

Noticing a small white card lying on the wood, he picked it up and read aloud. “
Guy Little. Sports Photographer
. What the hell is this?”

“Oh, yeah. You missed it. This guy—ha, that’s funny since his name is Guy—anyway, he came in and gave us all cards along with some shit about us earning hundreds of bucks an hour modeling for him.”

“Hundreds of bucks an hour, huh?” Mustang knew some models got paid real big bucks, but these guys were bull riders, not models. “Upfront?”

Chase nodded his head. “Yup. Supposedly he would take the pictures for some sports website that’s being developed right now.

He’d pay you now but the site wouldn’t be up and live until later in the year.”

Mustang glanced down at the card again, his mind working. “Do you want this?”

Laughing, Chase shook his head. “No. Do you?”

“Um.” Mustang held the business card between two fingers. He couldn’t tell Chase he was actually considering it to make money while he was laid up. Tough Texan bull riders like himself simply didn’t do things like model. Then an idea hit him. “The practical joke potential of this little baby is limitless. I can tell Slade that while he was holed up in the hotel room with Jenna, I got hired as a big-time model.”

“Hey, I never thought of that.” Admiration crossed Chase’s face, followed closely by a devilish look. “You could even
accidentally
whip it out in front of a girl and say ‘What’s that? Oh, yeah. I’m a model’. You know, to impress her.”

“Sure could. Good thinking, kid.” His modeling aspirations to pay his bills were still a secret and Chase was learning how to be devious. Things were good. Mustang happily shoved the card into his pocket.

“So what are you going to do now?”

That seemed to be the question of the night. Mustang looked up to find Chase watching him with concern. The last thing he wanted was pity. He forced a smile.

“First, I’m gonna find me a woman and get laid. An injury is like a magnet for chicks, especially on the night it happens. Gotta take advantage of it while I can.”

Shaking his head, Chase broke into an awed grin. “You are the master, Mustang. I bow to you, man.”

“Stick with me, kid and I’ll teach you all I know.” His smile was genuine now.

Glancing around the bar and looking for likely candidates, Mustang noticed Chase’s two friends. Garret and Skeeter seemed to be trying for a pair of hot girls who looked like they’d rather be elsewhere. He shook his head. “Didn’t those two learn their lesson about picking up girls out of their league yet?”

Chase leaned back against the bar and laughed. “Guess not. It’s fine with me if they get shot down again. We’re all sharing one room. If they hook up, I’m out in the cold, or sleeping in the bathtub tonight. So which woman are you gonna go for?”

Mustang took a sip and browsed the many choices. Taking a young rider under his wing and teaching him the art of seduction was bringing back the thrill that had been missing for him lately. He nearly forgot about his arm, but not quite.

“You tell me, kid. If you could have any woman in here, which one would you want?”

“That’s easy. I picked her out the minute she walked in the door. Actually, I spotted her in the stands back at the arena.” Chase’s gaze skipped directly to a table in the corner where a mature brunette was seated next to a man. She looked a good fifteen years older than Chase.

The kid really did stick to the same type. This woman looked a lot like Jenna. It was no secret Chase had a huge crush on her back in Tulsa.

Mustang swallowed another mouthful of beer. “So why are you way the hell over here and not over there talking to her?”

Chase’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Because she’s here with a guy.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Are you crazy? You can’t hit on a woman in front of her boyfriend.”

“Well, no you shouldn’t do that. In that case, you wait for her boyfriend to go take a piss and then you hit on her while he’s gone.”

Mustang observed the couple’s interaction with each other and became even more convinced they weren’t a couple at all. “Those two aren’t dating.”

Chase’s eyes narrowed as he watched them across the room. “How can you tell?”

“See the way the woman’s looking all around the bar but hardly ever at him? And look at how the guy is checking out the ass on that young thing playing pool. No man would do that in front of his girl unless he’s looking for a fight.”

Then, as if on cue, the woman noticed Mustang staring and their gazes locked. She finally broke eye contact first, but not before Mustang saw her interest. “Oh, yeah. She’s available.”

“But the guy—”

Mustang shook his head. “Don’t worry about him. If she is with him, she doesn’t want to be, but I’m telling you they’re not a couple. Look. He’s getting up. Come on.”

“What?” Chase’s voice rose to the level of a prepubescent squeak.

“We’re going over there to talk to her.” Mustang planted his bottle down on the wooden bar with a determined thud.

“What if he comes back and beats the crap out of us for talking to his girl? You only have one arm to fight with.”

Heading across the room with Chase scurrying behind him complaining all the way, Mustang shot a disgusted look over his shoulder. “You get the shit beat out of you every week by a two-thousand-pound bull and you’re worried about one guy? Man up, Chase, or you’ll never get laid.”

“Hey, I do okay for myself in the female department.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just hush up and follow my lead.”

One glance at Chase’s expression told Mustang that though Chase wasn’t happy, he’d at least do as he was told. With the kid under control, Mustang centered his attention on the woman. “Hey there. Did I see you in the stands while I was riding at the arena tonight? I never forget a beautiful lady. I’m Mustang Jackson, by the way.”

She didn’t melt at the compliment the way he’d hoped, but she didn’t shut him down either.

“Yeah, I know who you are. I was there tonight. How’s the arm?”

Mustang shrugged off the injury. “Eh. Just a broken bone.”

She raised a brow and laughed. “
Just
a broken bone?”

Judging by the sound of her, she was a local. In his past experience, New Jersey girls were naturally wild. This one having a bit of age on her would probably make her even more so.

Through the harsh shell of her exterior, undeniable heat radiated off this woman. The usual anticipation he always felt right before sex fluttered in his chest.

“Yeah. It’s nothing. I’ve had worse.” Mustang reached back and grabbed Chase’s shoulder, pulling him forward. “This here is the reigning Rookie of the Year, Chase Reese.”

“I know who he is too. I saw his win on television last year. Congratulations on Rookie of the Year.”

As Chase sputtered out something that could have been thanks, her chocolate-brown gaze traveled from Chase back to Mustang and settled there.

Oh yeah.
Mustang began to formulate a plan for Chase’s further education in women. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

“Marla.” Her smile widened and turned into a chuckle.

Mustang smiled himself. “What’s so amusing?”

“We don’t hear men say
darlin’
up here in New Jersey too often.”

If she liked that, he could definitely come up with more Texan speak for her while he was buried inside her hot, New Jersey pussy.

Chase’s elbow poked into Mustang’s side hard. He frowned at the kid, who was too busy staring at something across the room to notice. Mustang glanced over his shoulder and saw Marla’s male companion coming out of the men’s room.

No matter. Mustang proceeded as planned.

“Can we buy you a drink, darlin’?” Chase’s eyes opened wide at that and Mustang decided he better deal with the situation before the kid’s head exploded. “Your boyfriend over there won’t mind, will he?”

She smiled. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a friend I dragged with me so I didn’t have to come alone.”

Bingo.
Mustang’s cock stirred in his pants. He shot Chase an I-told-you-so look and went back to work. “Did you two come in separate cars?”

Her eyes narrowed with what could only be labeled as horniness. “We did.”

Mustang glanced pointedly around the room. “You know, I really hate crowded, noisy bars. My trailer is parked in the lot next door. It’s nice and quiet and I’ve got cold beer and good whisky. Would you like to join Chase and me over there for a drink?”
Or a
three way
?

She hesitated and, for the briefest of seconds, Mustang thought he maybe had moved too fast.

“Sure. Just let me tell my friend I’m leaving.” She stood up and walked to where her companion was already flirting with the girls at the pool table. He wouldn’t object to being rid of her any more than Mustang would to ditching him. In this particular instance, three was company, four a crowd.

Next to him, Chase choked. “Oh my God. She’s really coming back to your trailer.”

“Yup. Do you think you can stop acting like a virgin long enough to fuck her?”

That question caused another priceless expression to cross Chase’s face, but he still managed to protest. “I’m not a virgin.”

Mustang raised one eyebrow. “If you’ve never had a threesome, then you might as well be.”

Chase paled.

Afraid the kid might pass out at the thought, Mustang lightened up on him a little bit. “Just keep your mouth shut and do what I tell you and this will be a night you’ll never forget. Trust me.”

Swallowing hard, Chase nodded, just as Marla made her way back toward them.

“Here she comes. Get that deer-in-headlights look off your face and let’s go.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay driving all the way home to Texas by yourself?”

Mustang patiently answered what had to be Jenna’s tenth question regarding his getting home alone. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Because we can figure something out—”

“Jenna. I’ll be all right. My right arm is just fine to steer. The truck has an automatic transmission so I won’t have to shift again after I put it into drive and go.”

Her brow furrowed with concern. “But what if you need two hands to back up the trailer or something?”

“I promise to only drive forward. Okay?” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Now, no more worrying.”

The look on her face told Mustang asking that of Jenna was probably equivalent to asking her to not breathe. He gripped Slade’s hand and pumped it in a handshake. “She’s going to worry anyway, isn’t she?”

“Yup.” Slade nodded. “Remember what we talked about. If you need any—”

Not Slade too. Mustang rolled his eyes. “I remember. I won’t need any.”

“But if you do,” Slade prompted.

“I’ll call you. Promise.”

Slade’s lip twisted into a doubt-filled scowl. “You’ll call me, huh? Do you even have my number?”

“Yes.” Jenna stepped closer. “I programmed both yours and my number into his new cell phone.”

Slade’s brows shot up to his hairline as he addressed Mustang. “Your new what? I thought you didn’t need a cell phone.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell him.” Mustang frowned at Jenna for outing him.

“Sorry.” Jenna shrugged and didn’t appear at all sorry.

With a sigh, he decided he better explain or risk a good ribbing from Slade after all the torture he’d inflicted on his friend. Though in Mustang’s defense, Slade’s cell phone usage had become extreme the moment he and Jenna had become a long-distance couple.

“It was under protest. Your girlfriend made me get one of those pay-as-you-go phones because she’s convinced I’m going to die along the highway somewhere between New Jersey and Texas.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “That’s like a thousand miles. You could break down and need help or something. In this day and age it is simply archaic to not have a cell phone for emergencies. I can’t believe you lived this long without one.”

At this point, agreeing with her seemed like the way to go. “I know. You’re right. Thank you for being concerned.”

Jenna looked the happiest he’d seen her since his injury. That had been simple. He should give in and humor her more often, just like Slade usually did. Slade was no dummy after all.

While she was happy and leaving him alone, Mustang figured he better get while the getting was good. “I guess I should be heading out now. Long drive ahead.”

“Did you take your pain pill?”

“Yes, ma’am. I did.”

Jenna nodded, satisfied. “Good, and I checked. It’s fine for you to drive while you’re taking them.”

Mustang shot a sidelong glance at the behemoth vehicle parked nearby. The one he’d be driving one-handed halfway across the country. “Good to know.”

“I put a bottle of water in the console next to you in case you get thirsty or need to take another pill,” Jenna threw in quickly as Mustang was about to turn toward the trailer.

Slade hooked an arm around her neck, probably to keep her from running over and showing Mustang exactly where in the console that water was. “Jenna. He lives in the trailer. He’s got everything he needs inside.”

“I know, but when he’s driving he might not want to stop or there might not be anyplace to pull over.”

“If that’s the case he shouldn’t be drinking ’cause eventually the man is gonna have to stop and take a piss from all that water.”

Slade kissed the top of her head as a scowl twisted her lips.

Shaking his head, Mustang opened the driver’s side door but couldn’t resist turning back for one last hug from Jenna. “You drive yourself safely back to New York. Okay, darlin’?”

“I will.” Her eyes looked a little misty so Mustang moved on before he got choked up himself.

This was starting to feel too much like goodbye. Three or four months wasn’t forever, but it sure felt like a damn long time right now.

He moved on to Slade, slapping him on the back. “You be careful in that bad-ass muscle car of yours. Don’t speed too fast on the way to Baltimore because I won’t be there to bail you out of jail if you get caught.”

“He won’t.” Jenna answered with a warning glance at her boyfriend.

Slade smiled. “Don’t worry about me, man. You just take care of yourself and let that arm heal.”

“I will.” What choice did he have?

“Call when you get home.” Jenna jumped in. “Or even before you get there from the road. Okay? You have five-hundred minutes loaded on your phone to start and remember you can add more when you need to.”

After he found a job, made the trailer payments and had money left over, he’d do just that, but he sure as hell wasn’t borrowing money from his parents. Over his dead body.

Mustang nodded. “I remember. Thank you.”

Seeing that Jenna may have possibly run out of instructions for the moment, he took the opportunity to climb into the cab of the trailer.

He slammed the door and rolled down the window. As he fired up the diesel engine, he shouted out one last goodbye. Mustang made sure he looked extra confident driving one-handed until he was out of sight of Jenna and Slade. Then he breathed a sigh.

He’d held on to the happy face for their benefit but it was going to be a long, lonely drive. He wasn’t looking forward to it. The operation on his arm and recuperating with his father telling him
I
told you so
for at least the next three months weren’t looking too great either.

Glad Jenna the worrier wasn’t there to see it, Mustang made a rather sloppy turn onto the main street, heading toward the entrance to the highway when a shiny white vehicle sped up behind the trailer.

The jacked-up, new pickup truck pulled next to him, beeping the entire way. The automatic passenger window slid smoothly down and Chase leaned across from the driver’s seat. “Mustang. Hey, you taking off?”

Mustang pulled over to the side of the street, figuring he didn’t need any more distractions while driving with one arm in a sling.

Chase pulled in front of him, hopped out and jumped up on the running boards on the trailer’s driver side.

“Hey, Chase. Yeah, I’m heading home for the surgery.”

“Damn. Good luck with that.”

Mustang nodded. “Thanks.”

“So, last night with Marla…” Chase shook his head. “Wow. I mean that was amazing.”

Mustang couldn’t help but smile at the kid’s enthusiasm. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

Chase grinned like a little boy on Christmas morning. “I got her phone number.”

Only this kid would plan on calling a woman they’d picked up at a bar for a threesome, but that was what made Chase who he was. A corn-fed, God-fearing, well-mannered, Oklahoman cowboy right down to the bone.

“Good for you, kid.”

“I’m gonna wait ’til later today to call though. Don’t want to look too anxious. She’s probably sleeping late anyway after last night. Oh hey, are you gonna call her too? Because I mean, if you do that’s fine with me.”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” Mustang laughed and then glanced at the clock in the dashboard. “Anyway, I better get on the road.”

“Yeah. We’re all gonna miss you around here.” Chase leaned in the window and hugged him. A quick, manly, one-armed hug, but more than Mustang wanted or expected from the kid. Especially after having been with him naked just hours before, even if there had been a woman in between them.

Uncomfortable with the show of affection, Mustang quickly came up with something to say. “I’ll be back in a few months. It’ll be like I was never gone.”

If only he believed that were true.

“Yeah. Maybe we can hang out again then. After you’re back.” Chase looked hopeful.

“Sure. We’ll see. Good luck in Baltimore.”

“Thanks.” Chase hopped down and, with one last wave, climbed back into his truck.

Reaching his right hand over to the left side of the steering column, Mustang flipped on his blinker. He threw the truck in drive and pulled away from the curb, but as he drove away Mustang didn’t see the road in front of him. Instead, he saw his future.

He didn’t like what he saw.

Slade and Jenna were already paired off and happier on their own than spending time with him. Sure, he could keep hanging out with the younger guys like Chase, until they all found themselves steady girlfriends or got married. Then what? Mustang would move on to hanging with the next set of single guys.

The older he became, the younger the new guys would get until one day he’d be a scarred, retired, former champion bull rider with a trophy case full of buckles and not much of anything else. Old. Alone. Lonely.

Suddenly being free and single and available to be with any woman he wanted on any given night wasn’t so attractive. He pictured Jenna as she tied the plastic bag around his neck so he could shower. Maybe having a woman mothering him and telling him what he could and couldn’t do wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Depressed now, he headed down the highway jealous of everyone in the world. Slade, who was probably on his way back to the hotel room to have sweaty sex with Jenna. Chase, for being so young and starry eyed he might actually make things work with their one-night stand, Marla. And every other bull rider on the circuit because they weren’t heading home to get a metal plate and screws put in their arm. Oh, no. They’d be riding in Baltimore next week while he was in hell, recovering from surgery at his parents’ house.

Life really wasn’t fair.

Over the next day the feeling of dread lodged in Mustang’s chest increased steadily the nearer he got to the place of his birth. It peaked as he saw the sign for Huntsville, Texas.

Speeding faster than was wise past the city, he became very much aware he was following the same route his grandfather had, and his father still took, to Huntsville Prison every working day of their adult lives. Just like Mustang had been supposed to if he had bowed to his father’s pressure years ago and followed in his footsteps.

Becoming a third-generation prison guard hadn’t exactly been Mustang’s lifelong ambition. Not that his father would ever understand Mustang’s willingness to give up what was in his eyes a good, steady job with benefits to instead take a chance on making a living riding bulls, of all things.

He sent thanks up to God that he’d gotten that job at the ranch and discovered he could sit a bull, even if his decision to ride pro hadn’t gone over real well at home. His father’s predictions then had been that Mustang would eventually come crawling home either broke or broken.

The trailer hit a bump in the road and he felt the twinge as it jarred his arm in the sling. That served as a very real reminder that he was indeed coming home a bit broken as well as a little broke at the moment.

Mustang felt the hard bulk of his Rookie-of-the-Year belt buckle beneath his broken arm. His father hadn’t been right. He had made something of himself and he had the proof right there, pressed against his gut where his self-doubt lived.

Bones healed and Mustang had no doubt that he’d be back on the circuit winning again in just a few months—if he survived living with his father that long. On that cheery thought, he pulled the trailer into the city limits of Magnolia and slowed to the local speed limit.

With the exception of the for-rent sign on what had been Hackett’s Hardware during his youth, Main Street looked pretty much the same as it had the last time he’d passed through for a quick, painful visit home.

As he wound his way out of the center of town and toward the country road that led to his parents’ house, Mustang saw other changes. A few large trees had fallen down. They’d uprooted actually. There’d been some nasty storms in Texas over the past year.

High winds, tornados, flooding.

Stifling the guilt, he reminded himself he’d called home to check on his family after each and every bout of bad weather had passed through the area. What more could he do from the road when he had competitions nearly every week?

Occupied with justifying to himself that his long absences were unavoidable, not just his attempt to avoid his father, Mustang didn’t notice the strange car parked in front of the house. He didn’t see it until he’d pulled the trailer under the trees around the side and was headed on foot for the front door.

The unfamiliar white car was about the size of a toy. He couldn’t imagine either his six-foot-tall father or his generously proportioned mother picking it as their new vehicle. Mustang’s father, like his father before him, was a pickup-truck man and his mama was a four-door sedan with a trunk big enough to fit a body in kind of lady.

Still wondering about the car, Mustang raised his hand to open the front door while kicking the dust off his boots on the mat. He didn’t bother to knock. Doors in this house had never been locked and most likely never would be, even if they had known where the key was.

Mustang didn’t have a chance to turn the knob before it was yanked from his hand and the door flung open. He suddenly had an armful of his mother. She wrapped herself around his neck while kissing his face.

“Watch the arm, Ma.” He hadn’t taken a pain pill in awhile. Good thing Jenna wasn’t there. She’d be shoving one down his throat before he could stop her.

His mother stepped back, focusing on his sling. “Oh my God. Michael, I’m so sorry. Does it hurt?”

“Not too bad.” Except for when he’d fallen asleep after his and Chase’s fun with Marla without taking a pill first and had woken up in agony. He didn’t mention that and instead shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Good as new as soon as the doc operates.”

“At least it’s your left arm. Since you’re right-handed, if your right arm had been out of commission I probably would’ve never been able to convince them to hire you at work.”

At the sound of his father’s voice, Mustang swung his head to locate the man. He found him lurking in the shadows to the side of the door.

“What do you mean? You got me a job at the prison?”