Breaking the Bad Boy Read online

  “Hop in, Duchess, I’ll take you home,” he said smiling genuinely now, the smirk gone. He opened the passenger door for her and stood back.

  “Thank you,” she said and hiked up her already short dress so she could get into the high seated truck without ripping it. The cowboy took a moment to admire her long legs, catching a glimpse of where her thigh high stockings ended, and he thought his heart might have stopped, but when he paid closer attention he realized it hadn’t stopped, it was pounding. He shook his head and went around to the driver’s side and started the truck and turned around in the road. Ordinarily she wouldn’t dream of getting into a man’s truck, but something was going on, and she figured this guy probably worked for her dad.

  The long legged cowboy was painfully quiet, and when they got close to the drive Joss broke the silence.

  “This is me; thank you again for the lift.” He turned into the drive and stopped at the turnaround in front of the house. The dogs greeted the truck with friendly barks. She pulled her sunglasses off and turned her blue gaze upon him. His face was impassive and unreadable, but the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. He was very handsome, she thought, handsome in a frightening way.

  “My father just had a heart attack; I’m not at my best. Thank you for the ride, my feet are in your debt.” He looked down her body again, stopping at her lovely feet. He lifted his hazel eyes back up to her face.

  “I know, Duchess, you get a free pass today,” he said smiling in his easy manner. She nodded at him and slid out of the truck. The dogs recognized her and made their high pitched welcoming barks, circling her and butting into her until she bent over them to say hello. As soon as they were satisfied she went inside.

  Her great grandfather built the ranch and the Erickson cattle dynasty over a hundred years ago. Her father owned hundreds of thousands of acres in southern Montana which was some of the most beautiful land she had ever seen, and it was peppered with Black Angus cattle. The log house was built with the idea that the ranchers had a passel of children, or that the hands were expected to live in the house. There were ten bedrooms, most of them quite small, with the family listing toward one end of the house and the rare hand who stayed the night, sleeping in the other side of the house. There was an upstairs master bedroom and Brent’s office, but Joss hadn’t been up there in years. The kitchen, dining room and living room, with a tremendous stone fireplace, were in the center of the house.

  The ranch had lacked the soft touch of a woman since her mother left, and Belle seemed determined not to leave her mark on anything. It was, instead, a practical, serviceable house, with latent charm. Large leather sofas took up the space in the great room, with Indian blankets and cattle skin rugs softening the wood floors. Joss had always thought rustic log homes were charming regardless of feminine trappings, which probably had something to do with having grown up in one. Most of the art that graced the walls was painted by Joss, and her father proudly framed them all. Some of the art was perhaps even worthy of framing. The rest of the wall hangings were various parts of dead animals. A giant bison head was mounted over the fire place, several mule deer and elk were here and there, and there was one big horned sheep’s head over the window in the kitchen.

  Once inside she drank a glass of water and called the number Belle gave her, but again, no one answered. She tried the hospital and discovered her father was still resting. She hurried to her room to the far right, or west wing of the house, dumped her laptop on the bed, kicked off her shoes and stripped off her dress. The long legged cowboy saved her from a pair of sore feet and ruined high heels; she’d tell Brent to give him a raise for saving damsels. She put the pointy tire flattener on the bureau, she didn’t want to step on it, but she did want to Google it when she got back from the hospital.

  She left her hair up and stepped into her shower simply to cool off and barely dried herself when she got out. She dressed in a pair of low riding Levi’s and a dark gray polo shirt which was a little tighter than she expected. What the heck? She pulled on her comfy boots and she was ready to go to the hospital which was about a half hour’s drive from the ranch.

  Pulling the refrigerator door open, she realized the cowboy’s pickup was still in the drive. Damn. She grabbed a can of Diet Coke and an apple and opened the screen to the porch to look at him. Her long legged cowboy was leaning back in her favorite seat, his long legs propped up on the wood pile, and his hat forward over his eyes. The dogs were contentedly lying around beneath him, and they thumped their tails at her arrival. He looked very comfortable here.

  She took a moment to peruse his long body and she liked it, she liked it a lot. She liked tall men, being too tall herself, and his hard leanness was particularly appealing to her. His was not a gym body, but a body earned from physical labor and gifted by good genetics. His long fingers drummed on his denim clad thigh, and the visible part of his mouth curved into a grin. He knew she was checking him out, and he also knew she’d find no fault in him.

  “You just let me know when you’re finished… whatever it is you’re doing, Duchess, and I’ll take you in to see Brent,” he said without looking at her. She bit into her apple with a loud crunch. Busted. She had been silent, how did he know? The thumping of the dogs tails? Hmm.

  “Let me get my purse,” she said once she had swallowed. So he does work for Brent, she thought, and he was sent to fetch her. Purse in hand, phone in pocket, she was ready. When she came back out he shifted from her favorite seat, stood up and finally looked at her. He paused in mid step and let his eyes take her all in. She wondered if there was something wrong with her clothes, possibly her too tight shirt. She looked down at her body and then back up at him raising her eyebrows.

  “Nothing,” he said to her unasked question. “Not a damn thing. Hop in; I’ll take you to him.”

  “You don’t have to take me,” She said, but he merely grinned at her and started the truck.

  They drove in silence for a while, but it wasn’t one of those comfortable silences that perfect strangers can have, she was downright jumpy around this man. He bothered her, but she couldn’t figure out why, maybe she didn’t want to figure out why, maybe he was just too good looking. Once she finished her apple she tossed the core out the window into a field of cattle, popped open her soda and took a long drink. The brief walk in the August sunshine made her thirstier than she realized, and now she was going to belch in front of the cowboy.

  “You had more than one flat,” he looked at her and she nodded grimly. “Did you leave your luggage in the rental?” He asked as they drove by the car slowly, taking it in.

  “No, I took a cab straight to the airport from work, I didn’t bring anything at all, not even a toothbrush, but thanks,” she said meeting his gaze. He went from concern about her flats to being delighted about something, but aside from an occasional wry smile his face didn’t change, but his eyes danced when they met hers like he was sitting on a winning lotto ticket.

  “Can you tell me anything about Brent’s condition? They won’t tell me anything over the phone,” she said. “It’s very frustrating.”

  “Nope, I’m just the hired help,” he said looking at her sideways. She nodded again, and she thought it bothered him a little bit to just be the hired help.

  “I’m Joss, by the way,” she said.

  “I know.” There was another long silence, and she exhaled loudly.

  “Now you are supposed to tell me your name,” she said.

  “I know,” he said turning to her with a toothy grin. His teeth were too perfect; she hoped he had braces and headgear for years.

  “Fine,” she said and opened her purse. She pulled out a collapsible hairbrush and an elastic tie and began to take her hair out of its chignon, throwing the pins in her open bag. Her hair had begun to pull at her scalp, and she knew it was a sweaty mess, and she didn’t want her dad to see her looking like she held on in the back of the truck on the way there with his weak heart, so she was going to take control
of the one thing she could.

  Brent had a habit of assuming the worst about her and any of the males of the species, and this cowboy was as male as you got. She wanted to look completely presentable. She couldn’t help herself; she looked at the cowboy and considered having sex with him. She could do worse, she thought, and he caught her looking and she flushed and went back to her hair. Much worse.

  Her hair was far too long for the confines of the pickup, she had to pull it to the side and start brushing at the bottom half, and work her way up. She could smell the scent of her shampoo swirling around the cab, and hoped the taciturn cowboy didn’t start sneezing. Her hair smelled minty and pleasant, she thought, he couldn’t complain too much. Once she was done with the brushing she separated it into three hanks and plaited it on the side to come over her shoulder. Pulling the visor down she looked at herself in the mirror to make sure her hair was completely contained. Satisfied, she collapsed the brush and placed it back in her purse and put her purse back on the floor of the cab, sitting back into the seat.

  He was glad she wasn’t watching the road; he nearly drove off it twice watching her tame that wheaten mane of hair. The whole cab of the truck filled with the scent of some designer shampoo and something indefinable that went right to his loins, her. The Duchess smelled really good. She had been sweaty from the heat, and it must have settled in her hair. He wouldn’t mind settling in her hair. His heart was speeding up again. Fuck.

  “Buck,” he said, his voice was sounding thick, not the usual playful teasing she was used to.

  “I’m sorry?” She asked and he cleared his throat.

  “They call me Buck,” he said a little stronger this time.

  “Oh. I had forgotten you were here,” she said sounding just like a duchess. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Buck.” He laughed.

  “Just Buck,” he said. “So, Duchess, did you run over something in the road?” He asked. It was mild curiosity, he wasn’t making any assumptions, she thought. Well, aside from the assumption that she was a duchess of all things.

  “It would appear so,” she said.

  “Was it a person? Maybe some nuns off to do good works or a couple of boy scouts?” She looked at him and this time there was only teasing, no curiosity.

  “Just another long legged cowboy who got in my way,” she batted her eyelashes playfully. He laughed, not at her, but with her, and she tried not to, but she smiled at him. This time she did notice that he almost drove off the road.

  ***

  Buck knew exactly where to go in the hospital, and he led her straight to the ward despite the curious layout of the building. She wondered if hospital planners made a point of making them as confusing as possible.

  “I’d like to speak with the doctor about my dad,” she said to one of the nurses.

  “That would be Dr. Hastings; she’ll be in early tomorrow. Right now I can tell you that he is stable and looks good. He’s a strong man, Miss Erickson, and responding well,” the nurse said with a smile. Joss nodded.

  “I’ll be here tomorrow morning, then, to speak with Dr. Hastings. Thank you,” she said and walked to his door, taking a deep breath.

  In the greenish light of the monitors Brent looked like a crude wax figure of himself. He was hooked up to a breathing apparatus which had a rhythmic whoosh and various monitors that beeped softly. Joss stood next to the bed, shocked. Brent had always been so powerful, like his Viking ancestors, now he just looked small and weak, and old. When his eyes opened she forced herself to smile at him.

  “You look like shit, Brent,” she said taking his hand.

  He couldn’t respond with the tube down his throat, but she saw the humor in his eyes right before he went back to sleep. Joss sat next to the bed and tried not to cry. An hour later the nurse came in and told her Brent needed rest more than anything. Joss kissed his forehead and walked out of the room and straight to the nurse’s desk. She drew herself to her entire 5’11” and stared them down.

  “My father needs his woman, so she’s going in to be with him. Don’t quote policy to me, he’ll recover faster with her, and you won’t have a moment’s peace from me if you don’t let her in.” Joss said to the assembled nurses; making one of them laugh out loud, the other four just stared at her slack jawed.

  “You’re Joss Erickson?” She said.

  “Yes.” She looked directly at the brave nurse.

  “Shit, you better do as she says, she’s like a pit bull,” Joss looked more closely at the nurse.

  “Leanne? Leanne Stewart?” Leanne laughed and smiled and came around the station to give her a hug.

  “It’s me, you leggy bitch, we’ll let her in, just to shut you up,” she said still smiling. “Although, if she had just said something earlier…”

  “Thank you. I would have said terrier, not pit bull,” she looked down a little guiltily. “So um, Leanne, just out of curiosity, did you ever, you know, get back together with him?”

  “Not after he slept with you, bad is one thing, asshole is completely unacceptable,” Leanne said and they both laughed.

  “So basically, I did you a favor…” she smiled at Leanne’s shocked face and again they laughed.

  “Yes, you did, but I don’t think I’m going to thank you for it, that boy was beautiful, and great in the sack, or so I heard. Did I hear right?”

  “Yes, yes you did,” she said. They laughed again. “He lied to me about you, you know? Said he was single.”

  “When you found out he wasn’t, you stayed with him, though.”

  “Oh yes, yes I did,” Joss said and they laughed again. “But by then he really was single, and still really great in bed.”

  “He’s still around, you know, if you’re interested,” Leanne said. Joss laughed out loud.

  “I think that ship has sailed,” she said and laughed again. “He’s all yours.”

  “Nope, I’m happily married now, with two boys. And it looks like you have enough on your plate,” she motioned her head and looked over Joss’s shoulder. “We’ll take care of your dad, don’t worry,” she said and Joss nodded and turned around to see Buck leaning up against the wall looking very entertained.

  “He’s not on my plate,” Joss said and Leanne laughed.

  “The way he’s looking at you, you are definitely on his,” Leanne rolled her eyes at Joss.

  Joss looked at the grinning Buck and hesitated for a moment, and then turned to Belle.

  “You can go to him; I’ll bring you a change of clothes tomorrow. Is there anything else you need?” Joss asked her. Belle shook her head, stood up and walked to the door. Belle turned and nodded solemnly at Joss and walked into Brent’s hospital room, swallowed up by shadow.

  “So, you slept with her boyfriend?” Buck said softly from right behind her.

  “You must be new in town, that story is never going away. Not that it is any of your business,” she said not turning around.

  “You’re right, it’s not my business; I’m just intrigued. Do you want me to take you home? Or are you hungry?” Buck asked her. He stood right behind her, not touching and she wondered if he’d catch her if she fell back into his arms. She turned around and was surprised anew at the size of him. It was an unexpected pleasure. Suddenly she was starving.

  “I would kill for a burger at Andrew’s if you have the time. My treat,” she said smiling. He stepped back and put his hand out for her to lead the way with a semi bow. She started walking and then stopped. “I have no idea where I’m going, you had better lead.” He smiled at her, considered taking her hand, and dismissed it, leading her to his truck.

  He pulled in front of Andrew’s just as the neon “Open” light went off. Buck looked at her across the cab for instructions. Joss looked at her watch. “Oh,” she said and looked around for some inspiration.

  “Come on, I know a place,” he said and got out of the cab. “It’s not far, how are your feet holding up?”

  “You found me before my feet even started hurting, I
can walk,” she said.

  “Good, but I’ll carry you, Duchess, if your feet start bleeding,” he said with a grin.

  “Ha, ha.” She towered over almost everyone, and despite her small waist she was amply endowed elsewhere, and she knew she wasn’t an inconsiderable weight. He was teasing her again.

  The walk was not far at all. He led her to a very small, inconspicuous and completely empty restaurant with small wobbly tables covered with gingham cloths and cheap plastic folding chairs that gave you static shocks if you moved at all. The walls were wood paneling to four feet, and the rest was painted a lurid red. He brought her to a brothel, she thought, a very small brothel, for there was not much room to swing a cat unless you had very short arms. If it weren’t for the enticing smells she would have thought he had lost his mind.

  Buck lightly took her elbow and guided her to a folding chair at a table in the far corner, and held it out for her. Joss sat and thought mothers of cowboys taught them manners at least. Buck sat with his back to the wall instead of to the door, and a wary eye on the exit, which made her curious about him.

  A very small Asian woman in what appeared to be black silk pajamas stepped out of the back room, alerted by the tinkling of tiny bells on the door and welcomed them. Joss wanted a pair of those pajamas, she had a thing for sleepwear, but she didn’t have black silk pajamas.

  The woman greeted Buck like an old friend in another language. She could tell that the woman was making a point of saying how funny it was that they were both such giants and she such a tiny thing. Even though Joss didn’t understand a word she said, her body language and embarrassed laughter said it all very clearly. Buck ordered for both of them and the little woman disappeared into the back once again.

  “I took the liberty…”