by Kinley Cole
B U C K W I L D
B Y
K I N L E Y C O L E
BUCK WILD
Copyright © 2018 Kinley Cole
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, scanning, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Please do not partake in or encourage piracy of copyrighted works in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting this author’s hard work.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales, events, or actual persons—living or dead—is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Playlist
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Connect With Kinley Cole
Playlist
Speechless – Dan + Shay
Eyes on You – Chase Rice
Small Town Boy – Dustin Lynch
Withdrawals – Tyler Farr
Fall Apart – Casey James
If You Want a Bad Boy – Brantley Gilbert
Save Your Breath – Josh Dorr
Keep Them Kisses Comin’ – Craig Campbell
You Make It Easy – Jason Aldean
17 Again – Brantley Gilbert
Dedication
Buck Wild is dedicated to our AMAZING Bookstafam! We absolutely adore you all! Thank you for everything you do and especially for taking a chance on us.
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Okay, okay, you can flip the page for the good stuff now...Yeehaw!
Chapter One
Buck
Trouble is something I’m quite familiar with. So familiar, in fact, that I know trouble the moment I see it. And about five feet of trouble is walking right through the double doors of The Golden Spur Tavern. I set my dishrag back into the blue sanitizing bucket. My focus is entirely on the mysterious woman as she sways her curvy hips toward the counter in a pair of red high heels and a business suit. Anyone coming in here dressed like that ain’t here to have a good time. They’re here to cause trouble.
“Who’re you lookin’ for, Heels?” I ask, breaking the ice as soon as she steps up to the counter. The petite woman looks behind her shoulder and then turns her attention back at me, archin’ her brow in question.
“Me?” she asks with a sharp chuckle. “I wouldn’t think that’s any way to greet a customer.”
Exaggerating a hard glance around the bar, I answer her. “There ain’t anybody else in here wearin’ heels, is there?”
She reacts with a playful scowl, her steely blue eyes piercing mine, and a light jolt of electricity strikes my gut. “Well, for your information—” She pauses, standin’ up on her tippy-toes to peer over the bar. Her eyes scan me from head to toe before she continues, “—Shit-kickers... it’s none of your business. The only business that’s yours is what I want to drink.”
Raising my left hand behind me, I point at a sign hangin’ on the wall beneath the top shelf of liquor. It reads, We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.
“With how busy you are right now, I’m sure you won’t be refusing me service. Is that safe to assume, Shit-kickers?” A seductive smirk pulls at her plump candy apple red lips, causing my cock to twitch and press against the seam of my jeans.
Folding my arms over my chest, it causes a natural flex of my biceps, and I can’t help but notice as Heels casts her gaze across my muscles.
Resting my forearms on the bar counter, I lean toward her. Her eyes flit back to mine. I break the silence. “Have a seat, Heels. Sure wouldn’t want you to fall over.”
Heat rises in her milky white cheeks and turns them almost as red as her lips. “Fall over?” she asks in puzzlement.
“Yeah, you were lookin’ a little weak in the knees there.” I feel the pull of my lips as they turn up into a smile.
“I think someone’s a little full of himself...” Heels rolls her eyes and scoffs.
“What’s your poison today?” I tap the counter in front of her.
“Whiskey on the rocks. Make it a double.” She doesn’t hesitate with her order.
There’s no way in hell this little woman is going to drink whiskey on the rocks, I think to myself as my eyes widen in surprise at her request. “Are you sure you don’t want a fruity drink? I think I can make a Sex On The Beach or something close, anyway?”
“I said a double of whiskey on the rocks, Shit-kickers. Are you truly trying everything you can to get under my skin in the shortest amount of time possible?” She removes her suit jacket, exposing her full cleavage in a low-cut blouse.
My length stiffens, reminding me I haven’t been around a beautiful woman in a very long time. I shake the thought away and reach for a bottle of top-shelf whiskey.
“Nope, just surprised is all.” I turn back toward her with the bottle and a rocks glass. I scoop a few ice cubes into it and pour the amber liquid over the cubes, listening as they crack.
Sliding her double shot on the rocks over to her, she nods toward the bottle and then shifts her gaze back to me. “It’s on me,” she says. “Have a drink with me, or take a shot,” she demands, twisting her dark brown hair up into a bun at the top of her head. I notice a birthmark on her neck and it sparks something inside me. I’ve seen it before.
I know her.
Heels must notice because she narrows her familiar blue eyes at me, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “What do ya say, Buck, one for old time’s sake?”
Old time’s sake?
My heart damn near falls to my feet. “It’s you...” My voice trails off and I reach for the whiskey bottle, pouring myself a double, though I think I’ll need the whole damn bottle.
It’s Dakota fucking Jenkins, my best friend’s little sister.
My first real love.
She’s also the one I got my ass handed to me over by said best friend because he walked into the room when my cock was down the back of her throat.
Fuck.
“Well, let’s just say little Kota has grown up a bit over the past five years.”
Kota, I repeat in my head. I was the only one to ever call her that. She holds up her glass in my direction and I do the same, clinking our glasses together for a cheers. The whiskey burns a trail down my throat and warms my belly. She shivers at the strength of the alcohol but smiles with a sigh.
“What the hell brings you back here?” I ask, pouring us both another.
Things between us ended five years ago. Not because we wanted things to end, but because we thought they had to. She moved off to college and I haven't heard from her since.
“Home,” she says with conviction, and laughs softly, almost as if it were a mistake she’d said the word so seriously. “I need to be here with Auntie, with her being sick and all. I want to make sure she’s taken care of.” She tips the glass of whiskey against her plump red lips. I stare at them, pressing on the rim of the glass as she drinks the liquid all in one gulp. My mind wanders, im
agining that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock like it once was many years ago, but I quickly shake away the dirty thought.
Fuck. I can't be thinking of her this way. We don't even know each other anymore.
It’s been five goddamn years since I’ve seen this woman and yet here she is, making me feel like a horny young guy again who can’t control himself.
“What?” she asks with a soft laugh, running her thumb along her bottom lip.
I realize then I hadn't responded to her. “I just can’t believe you’re here. It’s been so long, and we didn’t really end things on a light note.” I pause. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Life is full of surprises, Buck,” Kota smirks, shining her bright blue fuck-me eyes in my direction, only making matters worse beneath the seam of my jeans.
I lean closer to her, over the counter. “You can’t be doin’ that shit, Kota. You’re only gonna get us in trouble again.”
I pay no attention to the sound of the bell dinging as the doors open. My focus is on Kota, and her focus is on me. She places her hands on the bar, leaning in closer toward me, our faces merely an inch apart.
The tension between us is thick, just as it’s always been, and another sexy, sinful smile pulls at her plump lips. I shake my head in disbelief at the beauty before me.
“You two didn’t learn your lesson the first time?” The loud, deep voice startles Kota and pulls my attention away from her.
It’s Jack.
Kota’s big brother.
My best friend.
“I...uh...I better go.” Kota reaches for her purse and pulls out her wallet. “What do I owe ya?”
Jack slams his hand down on the counter next to her, causing a pool of rage to build in my gut.
“No, don’t let me interrupt this time. Go ahead. What’s gonna get y’all in trouble, Buck? Is my little sister gonna suck your dick again? Or are ya gonna actually fuck her this time?”
The veins in his neck are showing and his hands are now balled into fists.
“Jack, don’t,” I warn him with a low growl.
“No, you don’t, Buck.” He matches my growl and scowls, then looks over at his sister. “Why the hell would you even come here? You know he works here. He’s bad news for you and you’re fucking engaged, Dakota. Do you even think before you act?”
Engaged...
The word hits me like a punch square in the balls. Now I don’t know whether to be more pissed off at Jack or Kota.
“Jack, I didn’t come here to see Buck. I came here for a few drinks, and we were just catching up. What you walked in on was nothing. It was just a little harmless teasin’.”
“You mean flirtin’,” Jack corrects her.
“Who gives a flyin’ fig if we were flirtin’? Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen between us, Jack!” Kota’s southern-bred accent is in full force. You can take the girl out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the girl.
The two start going back and forth, bickering like they’ve always done, and it triggers something inside me.
“GET OUT!” I slam my fist against the bar, and they both turn to me with wide eyes. “I mean it, get the hell out of here. Both of you.”
Chapter Two
Dakota
Stumbling down the gravel road from the bar to my Auntie Rae’s and Uncle Don’s farm after too much to drink this afternoon, I notice the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires behind me. Turning over my shoulder, I see an old brown pick-up truck, and my brother’s driving it.
“Get in,” he orders.
“No, I’ll walk.”
“Shut up and get your ass in the truck, Dakota. You look like a drunk hooker stumbling down the road in those heels.” He laughs as though it’s a joke, but it pisses me off so I rip a heel off from my foot and throw it at him through the passenger window.
“Go eat dirt, you asshole!”
“Christ Almighty, Dakota. You’re actin’ like a child over this. Get in the damn truck. I need to talk to you.”
He leans over the front seat and opens the passenger door for me. I roll my eyes and sigh, kicking out of my heels and stepping on the gravel, not feeling any pain thanks to all the shots of whiskey. I climb into the truck and slam the door shut.
“What?” I ask firmly, staring out the window. My vision is blurry from the alcohol.
“What were you doin’ there?”
I knew this was coming. There’s no way it could be avoided. “I’m not engaged. I broke it off before coming here. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t me anymore. I haven’t been me for a long time, Jack.” A lump forms in my throat but I choke it down.
“Tim is a good guy, Dakota. What the hell are you thinking? He’s got a good job and you would’ve had anything you ever wanted or needed with him. So would your future children.”
I snap my gaze around to stare at him squarely. “Jack! Listen to yourself. You really think money is going to keep me happy? I know what life is like without money, and it ain’t all that bad.”
“How can you say that knowing what we went through growin’ up?” He’s staring back at me like I’m speaking a foreign language.
“Sure, we grew up without money, and without food on the table...hell, we didn’t even have a damn table to put food on even when we did have food! Those days were hard on us, Jack, but those are some of the happiest memories I have,” I admit vehemently. “Those memories are all I have left of Ma and Dad before they died, and you know Auntie and Uncle didn’t have much money, either. But they did what they could, and we were just fine.” I raise my voice, anger and sadness pumping through my veins at an alarming speed. The lump is creeping its way back up into my throat.
Jack sits in silence, shaking his head, obviously feeling a mix of emotions.
“I’ve had expensive wine, Jack, and I’ve had the cheap shit. They both get me drunk just the same, and to be completely honest, expensive wine tastes like shit.”
Jack bursts out laughing and for a moment I think it’s out of anger or sarcasm, but then I find myself laughing along with him.
“I hate hearing about your broken engagement, I really do, Sis. But you need to stay away from Buck. I don’t want you two ruining our friendship again if you guys don’t work out.”
“If it was fixed, then it was never ruined,” I state matter-of-factly through my drunken slur.
“I mean it, Dakota. Buck isn’t your type. He’s not a commitment kind of guy, and he’s never kept a woman for longer than a night.”
“A night is all I need,” I say jokingly. But one night will never be enough with Buck.
It’s never been enough.
A drunken laugh escapes my throat as I notice Jack giving me a dirty, scalding look.
“Don’t be talkin’ like that,” he scolds me. “Ladies don’t talk like that.”
“I’m twenty-two years old, Jack. Simmer down, I was only kiddin’.”
“And he’s damn near thirty. Stay away from him.”
“He’s twenty-six! Same age as you. And you haven’t had a girl for longer than a night, either, so quit callin’ the kettle black, Pot,” I snap.
Jack ignores me, finally shifting the truck into drive. He takes off down the gravel road toward the farm.
I rest my chin on my crossed arms, on the open window of the passenger side of the truck, letting the breeze hit my face. The warmth of summer still hangs on despite the coolness of autumn gently nipping at the air.
“So...how many girls has he spent the night with?” The question falls from my mouth and I instantly wish I could shove it back in.
“Damn it, Dakota, get him out of your head. You two will never happen again. It was a one-time thing, a big mistake y’all made. Learn from it.”
That’s the problem. I’ve never been able to get him out of my head. Buck was never a mistake. Mistakes don’t feel right; they leave you with a bad gut feeling and overwhelming regret.
Buck isn’t a mistake, I think. Timothy was a mist
ake. The thought passes through my mind without realizing it. Another thing left unsaid, another feeling tucked away beneath thick skin.
I’ve always respected my brother and his opinions, as he’s always been the one to look out for me. Buck is the first lie I ever told to him, and I think that’s what bothers him more than anything, even after all these years. I think it’s less about them being best friends and more about me lying to him.
Jack pulls down the driveway to the farm. Off in the distance, I see Uncle Don in his dark blue jean overalls filling the troughs with feed. The unpleasant, yet familiar scent of cow manure fills my nostrils, and while it reeks, I can’t help but inhale deeply, soaking in every aspect—the good and the bad, including my brother's overprotectiveness—of being home.
The very place we all want to escape from, to see where our wings will take us, in hopes of planting our roots in a new place to build a new place we’ll call home, but sometimes we find ourselves going back to the very place we started, the place that’s been home even when I didn’t want it to be.
That’s the position I’m in right now. I wanted to find bigger and better, felt my cowgirl boots were growing too snug. I wanted to experience life in a pair of heels and plant my roots in a big city. All I cared about was building a successful career and finding someone who was just as hungry for success as I was. I wanted someone who could take over the world with me, someone who’d build an empire with me.
But I found myself homesick; and not just homesick for the sake of the comfort of being home, but homesick for family and the idea of building a family of my own. I never wanted children and I didn’t want to live in a small town where everybody knows everybody.
Then, one day, without reason, I did.
When I think of my future and settling down and building a family with someone, the only person to ever come to mind is Buck. I tried forcing myself to see a future like that with Timothy by my side, but it just wouldn't happen.
Timothy was a necessary evil for that period of my life, when I needed to find myself. Eventually, I came to realize he was everything I never wanted and surely didn’t need.