Melting Point (5 page)

“I look like a fucking pirate.” Brian turned to the other men
, making a face. Another bout of laughter erupted. Brian turned back to Faith. “Listen, I had a chat with your friend Friday night and I think I owe you an apology.”

Faith didn’t respond, but took a look up at Trent
, who shrugged.

“Look, I’ve been an ass. I get it. I was just fucking with ya. And maybe I felt
–”

“Threatened?” Faith supplied.

Brian gritted his teeth as if that were a hard pill to swallow, but eventually nodded. It was evident this apology wasn’t an easy thing for him. “Something like that. So I apologize.”

As much as she wanted to be difficult, the fact was
, she’d never dreamed she’d ever get any sort of recognition about his behavior toward her; Faith decided to be satisfied with what she could get. She knew continuing the tension between them wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“So we’re good?”
Brian asked Faith and then shifted his attention to Trent. “So good?”

Faith gave one more look at Trent who shrugged
, offering no help, then turned her attention back to Brian. If things developed between her and Trent then Brian would not only be a part of her work life, but personal life as well. Holding onto a juvenile grudge wasn’t an option, regardless of how justified she felt it might be.

“We’re good,” Faith confirmed
, doing her best to make her smile look genuine.

“Good.” To her surprise, Brian stepped up to her, slipping his arm over her shoulders and hugging her to his side. “Since we’re pals now, can you do me a favour and put in a good word for me with your friend?
She’s got the impression I’m not a nicest of guys.” He grimaced. “And I think the missing tooth and black eye didn’t help either. But if you could be a lamb and talk to her…”

Faith groaned out loud.
Men!

The End

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Excerpt From

Tamed By The Cowboy

By

Terry Towers

Available Now

Chapter 1

“You have got to be kidding me. Hell no!” Samantha Wilkes knocked on the panel separating her from the driver of the Lincoln Town Car who had picked her up at the airport, care of her new stepfather’s brother, Connor Hudson. The driver acted as though he couldn’t hear her. She pounded harder, the panel between the driver and back seat shaking from the force.

“This is kidnapping, asshole. Take me back to the airport!”

She’d never met Connor before, his farm being in Idaho and she and her family being in New York. He hadn’t even gone to his brother’s wedding to her mother; his excuse for not attending the wedding was that he couldn’t leave the farm unattended long enough to make a visit. Kind of a douche excuse if you asked her, he was his brother for heavens sakes!

She was happy to be a New Yorker and had no desire to be an Idahodian… She frowned. Were the locals called Idahoan’s? She didn’t know and sure as hell didn’t care to stay long enough to find out.

Frustrated that the driver was refusing to answer her screams for his attention, she flopped back into the leather seat and eyed the large farmhouse coming into view. She supposed it looked quite nice, for a farm, but it was still a farm. Despite having her window rolled up the smell of farm assaulted her nose.

“I don’t belong here,” she grumbled, more to herself than to the driver.

She’d been wondering about Connor and had come up with a mental image of him. He was a big burly hillbilly, with too much facial hair and a big gut from one too many beers each night. She didn’t know his age, but her stepfather was 52 so she assumed he was in his forties somewhere. She’d never even seen a picture of Connor, but then again, she and her stepfather never really got along all that well so it wasn’t that big of a surprise she knew nothing about his family.

Maybe there’s some hot farmhands to flirt with?
The thought only made the idea of being trapped there slightly more bearable.

As the car came to a stop she looked out into the fields, hoping to see a hot man wearing just his jeans and a handkerchief. She didn’t see any and slumped back into the seat with a huff. She tried the door and was relieved that the driver had unlocked the doors so she could finally have her freedom.

The driver had already gotten out and unloaded her luggage onto the dirt driveway from the trunk by the time she stepped out of the car.

“Hey, watch how you’re handling those!” She rushed over to her precious Louis Vuitton suitcases sitting in the dirt. “Those suitcases and what’s in them cost more than you make in a year!”

“Then you’ve severely over-packed, Miss.” The middle-aged, balding man rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand at her. Turning his back to her he headed back to the driver’s side door.

“Wait a minute. What am I supposed to do?”

He opened the car door and paused. “Toughen up and get a new attitude, sweetheart.” Not waiting for a response he got into the car, started it up and sped off, leaving a seething and coughing Samantha in a cloud of dust.

“Asshole,” she grumbled as she looked toward the modern-styled two-story farmhouse. With a loud sigh and a heavy heart she grabbed the handles of the two suitcases and began making her way up the dirt walkway to the front door.

On the porch she stood staring at the front door a moment, considering whether she had any other options but to go in. She didn’t. She was cut off. No more credit cards, no more trust fund. No more money. Apparently, if she wanted money she’d be forced to work for Connor and earn it.

It was complete bullshit; she had a trust fund worth millions and she was being reduced to nothing more than hired labour. The trust fund, which was currently under her mother’s control, would be handed to her when she turned twenty-one. Unfortunately, that was still a year down the road, so she was at the mercy of her mother – and now the mercy of some stranger.

Pulling herself together with a deep breath, she slowly released it and knocked on the front door. No one answered. She knocked again and waited. Still no answer, but she heard movement inside. She tried the knob and it turned in her hand. She was about to open the door when the sound of a large dog barking from within made her think twice and she took a step back from the door.

Are you kidding me? They send me to this hellhole and there’
s no one here to greet me or to tie up the beast! Fuck, I hate dogs! The drool, the stink, the begging…

She stayed planted on the spot and listened; she could faintly hear voices coming from behind the house, despite the barking. Not wanting to pull her luggage though more dirt and gravel she left the cases next to the door and made her way around the house. The dirt path was riddled with holes and giant rocks, making it hard for her to walk in her spike-heeled knee-high boots.

Once she finally managed to make it around to the back of the house, she saw a massive barn in the distance; the front doors were wide open and she could faintly see rows of cows.
Well, guess that would be where the stink is coming from
.

In the opposite direction was a stable, which had been visible from the road. Her eyes became drawn to a couple of beautiful black horses with a baby hanging around the mother. She smiled as she watched them; the baby was adorable. The horses intrigued her; one thing she’d never done before was ride a horse, but she’d always wanted to.

Maybe Connor will teach me?
She carefully began walking toward the fenced-in area where the horses were lounging.

Crossing her arms over the wooden rail, she placed her chin upon them and watched them.

“You must be the girl.”

Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder to see a skinny kid she guessed to be maybe fourteen strolling up behind her. She groaned inwardly; if these were the types of farm workers Connor employed she could forget about the eye candy. Being able to flirt with some well-built guys was the only thing she could think of that would have made this place bearable. Her hopes were being crushed.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” She looked back toward the horses. She had no interest in chatting with the kid.

“I’m Jacob Miller.” He extended his hand to her.

Samantha turned back to him and looked down at his extended hand. His hands were cut and bruised with dirt under his nails. She cringed as she accepted his hand and shook it as briefly as possible, without appearing too rude – figuring she didn’t want to offend him, since he may be useful to her during her stay there. “Samantha.”

“Nice to meet you, Samantha.”
The kid leaned against the railing and eyed her intently. “Does Connor know you’re here?”

“Don’t think so. Where is he? I want to go to my room.”

The kid shrugged. “Last time I saw him he was in the milking parlour.”

She crinkled her nose up at him. “What’s the milking parlour?”

The kid pointed to the building she’d considered to be a barn. “That’s what they call that?”

He nodded, still intently focused on her, as if she were the first woman he’d ever set eyes on.

She looked over at the milking parlour. It was a long walk in the boots she had on. She’d be lucky if she didn’t break a leg stumbling over the rocks and then grass and mud. “Hey, can you do me a favour?”

He nodded eagerly. “Sure thing.”

She nodded toward the milking parlour. “Tell him I’m here and he needs to come and let me in the house.”

“You got it.” Pleased to be of assistance and get into her good graces, he sprinted off toward the barn.

Guess he can be useful…

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Frat Party Partner Swap

Hers To Command

Daddy's Special Christmas Gift
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Doing Her For Dad (Taboo Edition)

Her Brother, Her Hero
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Her 'What if' Guy (Pursued By The Billionaire)

The Inheritance: Anything He Craves

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Moan For Big Brother
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Moan For Daddy

Milk Money

Bought And Paid For

Seduced While She Sleeps

Seducing Big Brother
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An Heir For The Billionaire

Taming A Dark Heart

Behind The Mask

Tamed By The Cowboy

What Happens In Vegas… Doesn’t Always Stay There

Trust

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The Assassin And The Girl From The Coffee Shop

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The CEO And The Girl From The Coffee Shop

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Hitching A Ride

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Conjugal Visits 2: New Beginnings

Sibling Rivalry
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Sibling Rivalry 2: Never Say Never

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Moan For Uncle
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Moan For Uncle 2: Keeping It Secret

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Moan For Hubby (Moan For Uncle 7)

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Doing Her For The Boss
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The CEO and the Girl From the Coffee Shop: The Pleasure in Surrender

The Tattoo Artist And The Girl From The Coffee Shop