Breaking the Bad Boy Page 9

  She poked him in the side as she would her horse, and he shifted over grudgingly.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said.

  “I did tell you,” he said.

  “You told me Ben’s injuries, you didn’t tell me why your chest is ground beef,” she said. He opened his eye again.

  “You care,” he said. It wasn’t a question, he was smiling at her.

  She pulled the light over to him and started in with the tweezers. “Of course I care, you idiot. Talk, it will go faster for you.”

  “I feel pleasure at being told you care and pain at being told I’m an idiot. I’d rather sleep than talk, Duchess, why don’t you talk to me? Tell me how much you care,” he said and she snorted.

  “Good luck with sleeping. Is this a gunshot wound?”

  “Yes.”

  “From when you were in the military?” He laughed.

  “Get naked, Duchess, it’ll go faster,” he said.

  “Naked and fast in the same sentence, I’m afraid you’re not going to get far with that line of reasoning,” she said and he laughed again.

  “I will keep trying, then. You know, you make me laugh, that was unexpected.”

  “Don’t you have much opportunity to laugh?” She sounded sad.

  “Not lately. Was there any trouble while I was gone?”

  “A little, nothing serious. The dogs went crazy several times one night, it was the first night you were gone, but they were quiet after that. This morning when I went for my run there were a couple of men who tried to ambush me.” Buck’s eyes shot open and he sat up in bed and looked her over. She didn’t look hurt, so she must have administered the pain instead. Good Duchess. He grinned.

  “Are they still breathing?” He asked as he sat back. Joss was obviously okay; she didn’t really even look terribly bothered.

  “They are,” she said.

  “Tell me, Duchess,” he said and she did. “What did they look like?” He asked and he closed his eyes again.

  “I drew a sketch of the one I got a good look at, the other one was too far away,” she said. He opened his eyes again.

  “Show me,” he said. She got up and went to the desk and pulled out her sketch pad, opening it to the face. She held it up and watched as Buck looked at the drawing and made his face go completely blank. He recognized him, she thought, and he doesn’t want me to know. He must be exhausted to let me see that much. She sat back down on the edge of the bed and his eyes closed again.

  “Who is he?” She asked.

  “I don’t know. You piss anybody off in town? Hell you’ve only been here a couple of days.”

  “You recognized him,” she said.

  “Nope, did you miss me?” She paused and he stopped breathing. He was changing the subject.

  “I did, actually, there was no one for me to vex,” she said and he opened his eyes.

  “I could feel your vexation up in the hills, don’t worry,” he said.

  “And how did that manifest itself?”

  “I’ve had a hard on since I saw you in that little green nightie, Duchess, you want to see?”

  “That’s okay, I can see it from here,” she said and he grinned.

  “You’re not using both your hands, you could…”

  “Don’t make me hurt you. So, who shot you? I’m kind of thinking it was a woman,” she said and he laughed.

  “It was, actually, but not why you probably think,” he said.

  “What would I think?”

  “You think she shot me because I was being an asshole,” he laughed, and she joined him.

  “Hey, I’ve considered shooting you,” she said.

  “I know you have,” he smiled. “I can read your expressions like you’re speaking out loud.”

  “Hmm, what am I thinking right now?”

  “Aw, Duchess, you’re going to make me blush.”

  “Mmm, only one woman shot you?” He chuckled.

  “So far…”

  It was a long and tedious process pulling out the small stones and the pieces of t-shirt embedded in his chest, but she got them all out. Unbelievably, he fell asleep twice. At one point he grabbed her hand and she had been concentrating so hard she jumped, and when she apologized he smiled and said it just tickled. Fucking cowboys.

  “Your hair tickles, too, but I can live with that,” he said his hand reaching for it but then dropping back on the bed.

  “Sorry, I’ll tie it back,” she sat back. This time he grabbed her arm.

  “You will not. Get this done, Duchess, I am only a man,” he said. It must really hurt him, she thought.

  “Sorry, I’ve never done this before,” she said.

  “It’s not you digging around in my chest,” he said reading her mind. “It’s you smelling like you do and breathing on me and touching me, I want you so badly I can barely keep it together.” His voice sounded raw and tired. Joss blushed, his grin was gone; the man was sincere. He could have her at his mercy if he chose, yet he waited for her, she liked that very much.

  “I’m almost done. Ben’s very impressed with you,” she said to change the subject.

  “He’s very impressed with you, too,” he said, moving back to the subject.

  “Do you often run down the sides of mountains to near certain death to save someone you hardly know?” She asked him. The corners of his mouth pulled up slightly.

  “Please tell me you got a thing for idiots who do, and not just cops,” he said, his eyes still closed.

  “Why’d you do it?” He opened his eyes and considered her question.

  “It’s funny, I was half way to him before I realized I was even off my horse, Duchess, and I thought ‘Oh, so this is how I’m going to die, and I’ll never feel the Duchess lie naked in my arms.’ That’s when I dug in and slid to a halt. Maybe you saved us.” He closed his eyes again, and Joss took the opportunity to close her mouth.

  “Will you lie naked in my arms?” He asked her. Boy did he know the right moment.

  “Eventually,” she breathed and he opened his eyes again and gave her an unexpectedly serious look when she expected his playful grin.

  “Come here and kiss me, Duchess.” His voice was hoarse.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” she replied a little breathlessly.

  “Quit thinking, Duchess, you do too much of it. Come on, a little pain, a little pleasure,” he smiled at her.

  “Can’t you ever be serious?”

  “I’m serious as a heart attack.” He looked at her and his mouth made a frown. “Sorry, poor choice of expressions.” She grinned at him and his eyes closed again and she was pretty sure he was waiting for her to kiss him and not sleeping, but she couldn’t tell.

  The last thing she did was slather Neosporin all over his chest. “You’re all set, Buck,” she said quietly and left to wash her hands, when she came back out of the bathroom he was asleep. She threw a blanket over him, turned out the light and left him to his dreams, feeling oddly disconcerted.

  She called Brent to tell him the good news.

  “Ben’s probably still there at the hospital, he’s looking kind of rough. Buck’s a little torn up, but he’s irrepressible,” she told him.

  “Joss, about Buck,” Brent started.

  “Mmm,” she said not wanting to discuss him.

  “It’s just that Belle thinks…Never mind, you’re an adult. Don’t get hurt, honey,” he said.

  “You mean don’t get naked in the barn,” she said.

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” he said.

  “I got it, Brent, please can we try to forget that? It was years ago and I was a troubled child. It only happened once.” She said.

  “Once was enough,” he said.

  “I promise never to get caught having sex in the barn again. Are you happy?” She said.

  “Christ, Joss, I just had a heart attack, can we stop talking about you having… you know?” Brent pleaded.

  “You brought it up, but I would
be happy to never discuss it with you again.” She did tire of the subject, but then thoughts of Buck lying in a sunbeam on a blanket in the loft, reaching for her with that mouth making its sexy grin.

  “Joss, are you still there?”

  “Sorry, yes. What?”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, honey, I’m going to bed.”

  “Okay, goodnight, Dad,” she said and hung up. She needed to focus.

  She called Margie to catch her up.

  “How’s your dad?”

  “Much better, how’s my cat?”

  “He misses you, but he’s happy to see me when I get home. Your cable went out; there were some guys here today to fix it. They said there was no charge,” Margie said.

  “That’s good, because I don’t have cable,” she said.

  “Really? They were here for like an hour; don’t you think they would have noticed?”

  “Margie, do you feel safe?”

  “Josh has been staying here with me, I feel safe with him,” she said.

  “Good, I find that a little weird. If you don’t feel safe I can board Felix, okay?” Joss said.

  “You’re over thinking it, Joss.” She heard that twice in one night.

  “Maybe, I’ll call you later,” Joss said and hung up.

  She ate some celery and poured a glass of frozen vodka and went outside. The night was cool and the sky was clear, and she was very happy to be home, and absurdly happy to have Buck home. The viscous liquid slid right down her throat easily, and made her warm and nostalgic. Happy memories of Brand were with her, not just the tragic loss of him. It was refreshing to think of his wide smile and playful spirit, his laughter and kind heart. As always she wondered what he’d look like as an adult.

  He’d be tall; there was no getting around that, he was already tall at the age of twelve. He’d probably look like a less beat up version of Brent, with her generous mouth and straight nose. Brand’s skin was duskier than hers; he tanned more easily and didn’t get the freckles that plagued his sister. Would he have remained on the ranch? Or would he have found some other path? Would he have a girlfriend, or a wife? They would have had kids, lots of towheaded kids running around calling her aunt. She would never be an aunt, she realized, unless she married a man with siblings.

  She heard a thump very close to her and she started, but it was just the cat, the dogs didn’t even flinch. He rubbed his face on her leg and jumped in her lap again. This was a well fed barn cat, she thought. Fernando must be feeding them, despite her father’s orders. The old softie.

  The cat woke her when he left her lap, and she locked up and made her way back to her room, bleary and exhausted. She brushed and stripped and put an aged t-shirt on and fell into bed and a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Five

  The sun was up when she finally opened her eyes, and she nestled into the warmth behind her in the coolness of the morning and she closed her eyes again making a deeply contented sound. The arm that was around her pulled her closer and she sighed again, leaning back. Her eyes shot open yet again. “Fuck!” She said trying to get out of the bed, but Buck pulled her back to him, his arm uncompromising.

  “I’m trying, Duchess, but you keep moving away. Come here,” he said thickly into her hair, his erection pressing up against her behind.

  “I completely forgot you were here,” she said.

  “That actually hurt, Duchess,” he said softly into her neck.

  “Let me go, how’s your chest?” She said turning around to face him.

  “Fine, how’s yours?” His eyes dropped to her chest and he made a face. “Oh my, that is the ugliest t-shirt I’ve ever seen, why don’t you take it off?” He said propping himself up on one elbow and looking down at her through half closed eyes. She looked down at her shirt and looked sad. Years ago she cut the sleeves off and the collar out of it. The neck had ripped so that it was now falling off one shoulder. It was large enough so that both of them could fit in it if they had to, but it was incredibly soft and comfortable from a thousand washings. His eyes had moved to her exposed shoulder and he was looking hungry.

  “I love this t-shirt,” she said moving away from him. “Get up, it’s very late.” He sat up, looked around the room, and focused on Joss again. His face had very little beard despite the fact that he couldn’t have shaved in the past four days. He looked at the Picasso and his eyes showed the specter of old pain.

  “What have you done to me, Duchess? I have no memory of this place.”

  “Get out of my room before people see you, Gandalf,” she said and he grinned because she caught his reference.

  “We just spent the night together and it looks like I slept through it. Damn, I hope you were gentle with me, Duchess.” Joss couldn’t help herself and she laughed. “They already suspect we’re all over each other. If your father is going to have his henchmen slit my throat, we may as well enjoy each other first,” he put his hands behind his head and leaned casually against the headboard. He had very little underarm hair either, and she wondered if it was just Norsemen who had body hair.

  “It’s funny, I figured you were my father’s henchman,” she said and he grinned.

  “Come on, Duchess, you know you won’t be able to resist me for much longer. Give into your baser instincts and put that luscious mouth of yours around my cock.” She couldn’t help herself; she looked, and he watched her look. He had no hair above his navel, but below it there was a thin, dark line of curly hairs leading the way to his pubis. What would he do if she took him up on it, she wondered? She made a face at him.

  “Last night we got close. Maybe too close for your overall comfort, so now you are actively trying to have me dislike you. Cut it out, Buck, I like you.” His eyebrows went up. She was the smart one in the family, leaps and bounds smarter than her mother. “It’s curious behavior. Are you afraid of me?”

  “Terrified.”

  “You are.” She smiled but she didn’t know why he would be.

  “I am afraid of getting my throat slit without the benefit of having done anything to deserve it, Duchess. I’m ready to rectify that.”

  He stood up and his towel fell away. He expected her to look away, but she didn’t. Yes, he was indeed ready to rectify that.

  “You haven’t got a single tattoo,” she said in awe. “You’re the one.” He laughed and went into the bathroom and picked up his clothes, shutting the door behind him. He opened the door and stuck his head out.

  “You know, that statement made it sound like you have a tattoo,” he said.

  “No,” she said and he nodded and pulled his head back in. “I have two.” His head came back out of the door.

  “No you don’t! Show me.” She shook her head.

  “I’m not easy, long shanks, finish up and get out of here,” he laughed again and did just that.

  ***

  “So what’s this fatwa you’ve put out on people who ‘lay hands’ on me, Brent?” She asked and he smirked.

  “Working, is it?” He asked.

  “No, it’s made people curious, I think. Three people yesterday thought it might just be worth it,” she said.

  His smirk vanished. “Who?” She shook her head and smiled. “Dammit, Joss, you are going to be the death of me.”

  “Don’t worry, Buck scared ‘em off,” she didn’t think he needed to know Buck was one of the three. “When do you come home?”

  “A couple of days. The doc said no more red meat, I laughed in her face,” he said. Joss rolled her eyes.

  “Brent, how do you make ends meet? You have a healthy bank balance; you have huge expenses, and a mediocre return. You should be in the poor house, but you’re not. How are you doing this?” He looked at her, really studied her. “I thought at first you must be selling off the land, but you’re not, last year you bought forty thousand acres.” His eyebrows went up.

  “Where are you getting your information?”

  “You asked me to look into things, so I did,” she said.


  “You got into my accounts?” Brent was flabbergasted. “Those are password protected.”

  “It wasn’t even a challenge,” she said smiling.

  “Smart ass, I’m glad to see that expensive education wasn’t entirely wasted,” he said dryly.

  “It’s not like they have courses in college for that, Brent, I’m just clever. Tell me what’s going on, Dad. There aren’t any drugs, are there?” Brent looked away from her then shook his head. “You have to give me something, Brent. Belle won’t tell me anything, Fernando won’t either. Buck is just a macho workaholic I can barely get a complete sentence out of. He does a lot of ‘Lock the doors when I’m gone, Duchess,’” she said in a very accurate Buck voice. “And you are always just a little too tired.”

  “Duchess?” Brent asked her. She looked at him and blushed. She could feel the heat rise to the surface of her skin.

  “He calls me that. Something about being a spoiled brat, I think,” she said rolling her eyes. Brent chuckled, then laughed, and then howled clutching his chest.

  “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard,” he laughed some more. “Look at your face, Joss.” He continued to laugh and she waited for him to finish up. He finally did. “That hurt like hell fire, but felt really good. Duchess, ha!”

  “Ha, ha. You are avoiding the question, Brent,” she said.

  “I don’t want to do this here,” he said.

  “I want to help, Brent, but clearly you’re better, and I do have a real job despite what you may think about the questionable use of a degree in Art History. I should go home,” she said.

  “Honey, don’t go back, not yet. I’ll tell you everything. But I am tired all the time. Wait until I’m home, we’ll sit down together and have it out, okay?”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  ***

  As soon as she got back to the ranch she went out to the barn and saddled the Appaloosa mare she rode the other day. She mounted and rode out at a gallop. Her new hat was on and her hair was flying out behind her, and she felt free for the first time in months. Her dad owned all the land as far as the eye could see, and with the recent purchase of the forty thousand acres, 90% of that land abutted forest service land. She loved the ranch and truth be told she did feel like a duchess sometimes.