Used (Unlovable, #1) (Unlovable Series)

by Halat, Lynetta

  She takes a deep breath and nods. “OK.”

  We cross the small space to meet him and his mystery friend. There’s a third guy standing with them as well. I clear my throat a little when we’re closer. My hands are suddenly clammy, and my heart is racing. Oh shit! I’m so anxious, and it’s not that he’s a badass, that he’s probably a heartbreaker, or that he’s sexy as all hell. He’s a rodeo god, and suddenly, I feel unworthy. Me—the best of the best. Too late now, my boobs have gotten the third guy’s attention, and Mr. Rodeo God himself glances back at us.

  “Well, what’ve we got here?” the guy asks my breasts.

  Rolling my eyes, I answer, “Well,” I point at my chest, “these here are called breasts. But … I’m Denver,” I joke, as I scrunch down to try to make eye contact with him. The gawker isn’t fazed when I address his obvious rudeness, but the rest of us share a laugh. Having grown up around rough and ready cowboys and ranch hands, not much bothered me, but I couldn’t resist giving them shit for their crude ways. I reach around and pull Maggie next to me with a laugh. “And this is Maggie.”

  “Denver …” my rodeo god prompts.

  “Denver Dempsey,” I state before throwing out, “Maggie Myers,” even though he didn’t ask.

  The guy still eyeballing my tits moans, “Double D,” and shifts his eyes to Maggie’s, “and Mmm Mmm. Got it.”

  Again, my eyes seek divine intervention. If I had a dollar every time someone called me that, I’d be able to adorn these bad girls in a brand-spanking-new Victoria Secret every single day for the rest of my life. I look over to Maggie and see her blushing profusely.

  “Denver Dempsey,” my rodeo god says, thrilling me with the use of my full name. “I figured as much but didn’t want to assume. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

  That throws me for a loop. “Me?” I can hear the surprise in my voice.

  “Yeah, you. You’re already a legend. Glad to have you on our team,” he says with a wide, white grin.

  “And here I’ve been excited to meet John Ransom,” I’m barely able to return. He’s excited about me? The best bull rider in his class? That’s crazy.

  “Just Ransom. So how’s it feel to be the number one barrel racer?”

  He knows I’m number one? What alternate universe have I woken up in? Again, this is crazy. Play it cool. “Feels pretty damn good. But you would know how it feels to be number one, wouldn’t you?”

  He lifts his chin, and a bashful grin lights up his features. I find this not a little surprising and most definitely intriguing. “I guess I would,” he agrees. “Pretty damn good seems fitting.”

  I hear a throat being cleared and realize that we’re being rude. “Umm … Ransom, if you’re done fangirling, we’d like to meet your new friends,” the pervy one jokes.

  Ransom gives a sly smile and leans back on the heels of his boots. “Shit! Sorry about that.” He gestures to Maggie’s guy. “This is Pete Ford. And this dumbass here is my cousin, Austin. Same last name.”

  “Hi, Pete.” I nod my head at him. “Hi, Austin Same Last Name,” I say with a light laugh.

  “Don’t start that,” he complains, pouting.

  “What?” I taunt. “You gave me and my friend here ridiculous nicknames.”

  He throws his hands up in mock surrender. “OK, OK. I’ll behave,” he says with a crooked grin.

  I raise my brows. “Yeah, I bet.”

  Ransom pops Austin in the back of the head. “Be good, numnuts.” Austin would be cute, with his short brown hair and bright, brown eyes, if he weren’t annoying, which happens to be his main attribute at the moment.

  “So what’s your event, Maggie?” Ransom asks.

  “Pole Bending,” she replies seriously.

  Austin pinches his lips together in effort to keep from laughing, but I can’t contain mine. You’d think it wouldn’t be funny after years of hearing it, but it just sounds so dirty.

  “Thanks, y’all,” Maggie mutters and rolls her eyes. “You try weaving your horse in and out of those poles at a breakneck speed without hitting them or falling off, and then we’ll talk.” I want to pat her on the back for not taking our shit.

  “Hey, I’ve seen you ride,” Pete interjects quietly.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, you ride a strawberry roan, don’t you?” She nods. “I saw you in Oklahoma last year.”

  “You did?” How fitting that my strawberry friend rides a strawberry and cream-colored horse.

  “Yeah, your horse is beautiful. I had one growing up. I’ve got a silver dapple now.”

  “Oh, those are pretty too.”

  With each phrase uttered, they subconsciously moved toward one another until now, they were moving off together. It is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. After a few seconds, Maggie looks back at me with a beaming smile. I can’t help my answering grin.

  I turn back to find that Ransom and I are alone now too, and his piercing gaze makes me swallow hard. “Looks like Pete and Maggie hit it right off,” he says with a chin lift toward the enraptured couple.

  “Looks like,” I agree.

  “So what’s your story, Denver Dempsey?”

  Now that we are alone, I can take the few seconds I need to really focus on him in all his perfectly imperfect beauty. The eyes draw me in first, pale, almost-translucent greens that remind me of sea-foam, huge and surrounded by long, lush eyelashes. As I take in the rest of his face, I notice the scars slashing through each eyebrow. The outer tip of one is interrupted with a clean line while the arch of the other has a jagged break. He has a darker complexion, from the sun I’m sure, with a few freckles dusting his obviously broken and healed nose. From the looks of it, he’s suffered more than one break. I’m sure it’s from butting heads with some particularly nasty bulls, which is probably how he got the crescent-shaped scar that adorns his chin as well.

  Ransom catches me off guard by leaning in and whispering, “So, do I measure up?”

  I give a mischievous laugh for having gotten caught. I guess my strategy was off—should’ve checked him out while everyone else was there to distract him. “You caught me. I’m sorry. Your eyes had me mesmerized,” I hear myself confess.

  His eyes flare a little, taken aback by my honesty. “Do you always say what you’re thinking?”

  I really hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Brain, but no filter. “Pretty much,” I admit with a shrug.

  “Yeah, me too,” he says with a frown. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen. Why?”

  “You seem older.”

  “I get that a lot,” I admit with a laugh.

  He narrows those gorgeous eyes at me. “So why MSU? You had the best of the best courting you. Not that MSU isn’t great, but you could’ve gone anywhere.”

  He throws me with his swift change in subject. What’s strange is that he seems to know a whole lot about me. “I’m a Montana girl,” I tell him with a grin. “There was no other choice for me.”

  “Lucky me.”

  I finally remember I have props and take a sip of my drink, giving me a second to ponder what he could mean by that. But I have to know for sure. “How’s that?” I ask, hoping he means what I think he means.

  Ransom leans in, his breath stirring the hair that falls by my ear. “If you weren’t a Montana girl, I would’ve had to figure out another way to meet you,” he says softly. I pull back a little to see if his eyes mirror his words. They do.

  A look of horror briefly crosses my face as I’m shoved from behind, and I’m suddenly colliding into him and watching a little of my drink slosh out onto his shirt. He catches me by both my arms and steadies me against him, since whoever has bumped into me is still leaning into me.

  “You all right?”

  I pat his chest like my hand will dry the liquid. My light pat turns to more a rub, and the heat from his chest seems to transfer itself to my cheeks. His chest feels incredible—strong and warm. I roll my eyes at myself for behaving like such a girl. �
�Yeah, I’ve spilled my drink on you though.”

  I hear light laugher behind me. “Alcohol abuse!” I recognize Austin’s voice and hear a low hum from whomever is pressed into me. I turn my head and watch with disgust as Austin attacks this girl who’s keeping me pinned against Ransom. She’s using me as her support beam, and practically orgasming from his kisses.

  I glance back to see Ransom watching my face closely. His eyes don’t leave mine, but he barks out, “Austin, get the hell off us. Go find a dark corner somewhere and do that shit.”

  After a few seconds, I hear Austin come up for air and shout, “Yes, boss!”

  Laughing, I right myself again and feel cold as I lose contact with him. “Your cousin’s something else,” I say, trying to distract myself.

  Mirth dances in those eyes, reminding me of the sun playing on the waves. “That he is. He’s harmless enough,” he says with a shrug.

  I turn and watch them walk away, and once they leave my line of vision, my eyes catch on a beautiful, familiar face smirking at me from across the room. I can’t help the huge grin that pops up on mine. Happy tears spring to my eyes. What is he doing here? I shake my head and turn back to tell Ransom I’ll be back. He has a hard look marring his features, and I’m stunned, especially when I realize who his gaze is trained on.

  “Ransom? You OK?”

  “Yeah, who’s that?” he asks with a nod toward Greer.

  I look back again and roll my eyes when I realize he’s being entertained by the two bitches who were trying to start shit with me earlier. “That’s my best friend from back home, Greer Tanner.”

  “Just a friend, huh?” he murmurs. “Does he know that?”

  I swallow nervously. That was part of the reason I broke things off. I shake my head. “Yeah. But I don’t know what he’s doing here.”

  “He’s our team member. That’s what.”

  Swiftly, my head flies around to see if he’s messing with me. “What? No. Greer’s going to Wyoming.”

  “Nope, he’s just signed on as a our newest calf roper.”

  Chapter Two

  Then

  HOLDING TIGHT TO Liberty’s mane, I wrap my legs around her and make the jump over the stream that separates Greer’s property from mine. It’s our first ride of the summer after finishing our sophomore year, and I can’t wait to see him. I urge my horse into a light canter as I wind my way through the trees and brush. When I realize I’m grinning ear to ear, I correct my earlier thoughts. It’s not Greer I’m thrilled to see. It’s his brother, Lawson. I’ve had a crush on Lawson for as long as I can remember, but he’s never noticed me as anything except his annoying little bother’s best friend. Yesterday, I had my chance to change that.

  I’d gotten in trouble for drawing inappropriate pictures during English class. I mean, it was the last day of school, and she had popped in a movie. Who cared? Apparently Mrs. Black, because she held me after class to chastise me about being too bright not to do better in school. I’d reminded her barely-redheaded self that I’d had an A in her class all year. She’d insisted that, if I focused a little more, it could have been an A plus. And now that I was a junior and headed for Advanced Placement English, I seriously needed to increase my dedication to my GPA. “Woman, please, I have a 4.0.” When she narrowed her beady little eyes, I rolled mine. She berated me a little longer for being impertinent on top of being lazy. Even though she was boring me into a coma with her monotone lecture, my eyes wandered to the clock. She chewed me out a little more for being impatient. Finally, I cut her nasally voice off and asked her if she would bring me home if I missed my bus. She screeched at me for not telling her I didn’t drive.

  Darting out of the building, I saw the last of the busses pulling away, and I cringed. I did not want to call my mother. I’d never hear the end of it. Glancing toward student parking, I saw a couple of people I knew and took off toward them in hopes of bumming a ride. When I hit the parking lot, a big dually pickup pulled out, and I saw him. Lawson Tanner was leaning against his truck talking to some senior. With straight, dark brown hair and big chocolate brown eyes, he’s the polar opposite of Greer. And while not beautiful like Greer, he is still good-looking in his own way. My already pounding heart sped up even more.

  I took a deep breath, licked my lips, and headed toward him. He didn’t notice me until I was standing right in front of him. I tripped over my words and told him my dilemma, asking for a ride home in the process. He looked at the hot little piece talking to him, told her he had to bring his little brother’s friend home, and he would call her later. When she leaned in and made him promise in a whiny tone, I threw up in my mouth a little bit. Desperation exuded from her in waves. I was a little nervous, but I hoped I never put that vibe off.

  It was less than thrilling, I will admit. He barely spoke to me on the way to my house while I did nothing more than stare at him like I was a lost puppy. Then he dropped me off with a small smile and a wave, and that was it. And again, I missed my opportunity with him.

  Today, I am taking no prisoners. I dressed in my tightest blue jeans and my red button-up with the top three buttons undone. I let my hair down from its usual French braid, and I wore my favorite red boots. All that and, so he would see that I’m grown up now, I even blushed my cheeks, sported some mascara, and applied some lip-gloss. Being the daughter of a whore did come in handy at times.

  I snap out of my reverie when I emerge from the line of trees that runs along the Tanners’ long, winding driveway. As I do, I see his truck headed my way. He doesn’t even slow down, just gives me another little smile and a wave. Dang it! I slip my cell phone out of my pocket and call Greer.

  “What’s up, chicken butt?” he says, knowing I hate it.

  “Nothing much, dingleberry. I’m on your driveway. Wanna ride?”

  “Hell yeah. Be right out.”

  “’K.”

  I hang up and make my way up the rest of his long driveway. Rounding the house, I urge Liberty toward the barn to wait for him. I’d go in, but his mother hates me. And I really don’t want her to dampen my otherwise good mood.

  As soon as I spy the back porch, I get an eyeful of a naturally tanned, shirtless Greer. He’s got his back to me, but I can hear him cooing to his black lab. My mouth splits into a grin when I hear him say to her, “Who loves ya, baby?” because I know what’s coming. Frisco growls a gurgling response that sounds just like, “You love me,” spins herself around, and jumps up for a kiss. He rewards her by scratching her behind the ears and cooing some more. She is, by far, one of the most intelligent animals I have ever seen. Her trainer’s not too shabby either.

  I hear him give her a couple more commands, to which she readily complies. He always finishes with his favorite trick that he taught her. When he asks, “Who’s my pretty girl?” She bows, lies down, and covers her eyes. “She’s so bashful too,” Greer praises before giving a deep, heartfelt chuckle that resonates deep inside of me.

  And it’s the strangest thing. His chuckle knocks around inside me until something stirs, warming and wrapping me as tight as a bud on the new rose. I take in his strong, lean back muscles as he bends over and rubs Frisco back and forth on her stomach before righting himself again and turning toward me. My mouth’s gone dry, and I’m puzzled as the stirring and warming blooms into a fierce pulling.

  I give my head a little shake as I try to discern what’s going on with me. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve seen him without his shirt on. Hell, I can’t count the number of times he’s seen me without my shirt on. But it’s the craziest thing—like I’m seeing him for the first time.

  When he spots me, he flashes me a devastating smile. It starts as one I’ve seen him give countless other girls except, when he gives it to me, it widens, reaches his eyes, and makes him look even more handsome. I can’t help but return it for a second before it falters and crumbles. Wait! Wasn’t I just lusting after one brother? And now I’m lusting after the other?

  Reaching over, h
e snags his hat and shoves it in the back of his waistband. He grabs his t-shirt that’s hanging from his belt loop and starts to make his way down the stairs while pulling his shirt over his head. Mesmerized, I can only stare as each of his glorious muscles move in time with each step and each pull. Has he always had those abs? I mean, I know he’s had abs. But those defined abs that I just got an eyeful of?

  Why the hell am I looking at Greer like this? What is wrong with me? And then it hits me with such force that I almost lose my balance and tumble off my horse.

  I am my mother’s daughter.

  I am fickle and needy.

  I have the hots for one brother and am considering the other as well. I can see history repeating itself before my very eyes, except I’m the whore. God, I feel sick. I glance down at my reins and debate on whether I should stay and ride with Greer or go home and ponder this and the many consequences that come with being a first-class whore.

  I jump as Greer’s hand grazes my thigh. “Sorry, chicken. Didn’t mean to scare you. You OK?”

  I shake my head as tears fill my eyes rapidly. I’ve just made a startling realization about myself, and it’s scared the hell out of me. How many nights have I lain awake praying that I would never be like her? “Greer,” my voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “I think I should go home. I’m not feeling up to a ride.”

  He rubs my leg reassuringly, which only fuels my sudden impure and inappropriate thoughts, since his touch sends tingles throughout my body. We’ve been best friends since before we were born for God’s sake. “Hey now. What’s going on? You were fine a second ago.”

  “I, uh, I don’t know. I’m fine. I think. I just—”

  My sentence is cut off as I’m grabbed around the waist, jerked off my horse, and slammed into his chest. I breathe deeply to try to get my bearings. When I do, my world tilts further. His scent is comforting, but not in the way that makes me want to curl up and play board games with him, like usual. It’s the kind of sensation that makes me want me to reach up and kiss him, softly and tenderly and whole-heartedly. I shake my head again, trying in vain to clear my stupor.