by Gorman, A.
Jessie sat quietly the remainder of the ride, no huffing or puffing, just silence—the kind you could cut with a knife. Tuck drove the remaining few miles into town and then parked in front of the new clothing store. He got out and opened Jessie’s door. She jumped out and stumbled past him not saying a word; she just glared at him. But the glare said it all. If looks could kill, I would be dead.
Tuck jumped back into the driver’s seat and pulled out his phone. He needed to text a couple of people and make arrangements for the trip to Vegas.
Vegas. I still can’t believe it. I’m going to the Finals.
Tapping on the keyboard, he typed out a message to his buddy, Bubba Franklin.
Tuck: Bubba what you doing next week?
Ding.
Bubba: Nuttin’, why?
Tuck: Cuz I need a co-driver.
Bubba: Co-Driver???
Tuck: Yeah, a co-driver! Guess who’s goin’ to VEGAS, BABY??
Bubba: Oh FUCK YEAH. I’ll be there. What day we leaving?
Tuck: Gotta be there this Saturday. Competition starts Monday.
Bubba: All right, so we leave this Friday?
Tuck: Yep!
Bubba: I’ll be ready at six a.m. Friday.
Tuck: See ya then. Thanks, buddy.
Tuck leaned back in his seat and breathed a sigh of relief. Well, that part is taken care of. Now I gotta call the hotel, then the Professional Bullriders’ Association and find out all the details for next week. Thumbing through his contacts, he found the PBR contact and dialed the number.
No answer! Damn it!
As he pushed the disconnect button, Jessie Flanagan came out of the store, her hands filled with bags, a store clerk following closely behind, his hands filled. Tuck opened the truck door and then popped open the toolbox in the back of the truck.
Jessie’s face changed, and she screamed, “If you think I’m putting these bags in that dirty-ass toolbox, you got another think coming. Daddy just paid over twenty-two hundred dollars for all this stuff.”
“Wait, what? Mr. Flanagan just paid that much for the same stuff you can buy down at the farm store? Really?” Tuck responded as he opened the passenger door and Jessie piled in her bags.
“What you need all this stuff for, anyway?” Tuck scoffed.
“I don’t need, I want, and what I want, I get.”
“Well, ya ain’t getting’ this ol’ cowboy.”
“I don’t want you, anyhow,” Jessie shot back.
In reality, she did want him, and she wanted Tuck McGraw somethin’ fierce, more than she had ever wanted any man, but she wouldn’t admit it to Tuck. The reason she put on the spoiled little rich bitch act all the time was that she refused to allow another cowboy in her bed or in her heart unless she invited it. She wanted to invite Tuck, that was a given, but she still was unsure of him. So until he showed her he wasn’t like all of the other cowboys, she would be guarded and, in Jessie’s case, a bit of a spoiled brat. Her father, of course, had questioned her on what was going on. He had noticed that Jessie was not herself lately, and luckily she had successfully avoided his questions this morning over breakfast when Tuck’s mom had called to tell him the news from the PBR.
When Tuck’s mom had called, she could hear the excitement in her voice even without the phone being on speaker, and Jessie wanted so badly to celebrate too, but she couldn’t show how she really felt for Tuck. Mr. Flanagan, although he loved Tuck like a son, wasn’t particularly fond of his daughter dating cowboys, especially after the last one. The last cowboy Jessie had dated—her dad had literally run out of town. Liam Flanagan had given the cowboy two choices…well, three actually…stay and go to jail, stay and get shot by him and be diggin’ buckshot out his ass for months then go to jail, or three, leave town and never come back.
Jessie did have to hand it to the cowboy. He took the smart way out and left town. Tuck had no idea of her history, and she really wanted to keep it that way. She was actually surprised that someone hadn’t already told him. Everyone in town knew, and that included all the cowboys at the ranch, but Jessie supposed that her daddy had made sure the incident was never brought up again.
She thought back to last year about this time. Jessie had jumped in her truck, barely getting away from her boyfriend after he had battered and beaten her when she had come back to her place and found him in bed with her best friend. When she had confronted him, instead of defending his actions, he beat her and told her that he could do whatever he wanted and no one could help her. But this cowboy didn’t know Jessie Flanagan or her daddy as well as he thought he did, because Jessie grabbed the nearest object and struck him back with a vengeance, holding her granny’s old cast iron skillet that hung on the wall.
When she swung, she hit the cowboy in the head and knocked him out. When he came to, he knew exactly where she had gone—back home to the ranch—and that’s when he faced a whole new set of life decisions. Liam Flanagan had given the boy more choices than he deserved, but Jessie’s momma didn’t want to have to visit her husband in jail. The young cowboy left town and hadn’t been heard from since. Some around town rumored that Flanagan paid the boy off and he left town. Others think he killed the boy and he’s buried on the ranch, but in reality, Liam Flanagan did nothing except hold a shotgun to the boy and toss him enough money to leave town. He had provided a couple ranch hands as an escort. They went with him to Jessie’s place to get his things, and they followed him outta town.
That was the last anyone had seen or heard from the young bullrider. He was gone now, and Jessie’s wounds had healed, but her heart was still broken and wounded. She didn’t want to risk that pain again, so till Tuck McGraw proved himself, she would continue the spoiled bitch act. If he didn’t accept her that way, then he didn’t deserve her in the first place. It was a risk, of course, but one she was willing to take if it worked.
Jessie squeezed into the cab of the truck, pushing her bags out of her way and taking up part of the driver’s seat. Tuck opened the door, and a few bags fell at his feet.
“Now just hold up. I am not gonna sit in this truck surrounded by these damned bags. Part of them at the very least, Jessie, have to go in the toolbox. I’m askin’ PLEASE.”
Jessie Flanagan sat for a moment, tapped her fingers on the door handle, then hopped out, rummaging through her bags. “Well, come on, here are a few bags.” Tuck got out of the truck, then moved the seat up. Feeling in back of the seat, he pulled out a blanket.
“Here, we can use this to put down over the tools, then we can cover the bags up, so the dust doesn’t get them all dirty. Deal?”
Tuck held his hand out to hers, and she responded: “Deal!”
Jessie handed Tuck the bags she had already identified as ones she could do without and smiled at the thought that he had relented just a bit. As she passed him each bag, Tuck peeked in each one, then finally commented on the contents of the final bag. “Coach? Expensive tastes.”
“And how do you know that?” Jessie responded.
“Well, cowgirl, I wasn’t born yesterday, and I have been around the block a bit. You would be surprised at the knowledge I have. I know all sorts of things, and you aren’t the first high maintenance chick I’ve met.”
“High maintenance?” she snapped. “I am not high maintenance. I just like nice things.”
Tuck burst out laughing so hard that he almost swallowed his gum. “Jessie Flanagan, darlin’, you are about as high maintenance as they come.”
“Am not!” She stood her ground, stomping her boot onto the concrete.
“Yeah, you are!” Tuck stomped back at her.
Jessie turned and flung open the truck door and crawled into the passenger seat. “Well, you’re an asshole!” she screamed back at him.
“And I am proud of it.” He bowed to her as he passed her door and went around the truck to the driver’s side, got in, and started the engine.
The drive back was once again quiet until Tuck’s phone rang. He didn’t recognize th
e number but went ahead and hit the speaker button.
“Yeah, hello.”
“Is this Tuck McGraw?”
“Yep, you got him. What can I do for ya?”
“Hello, Mr. McGraw, this is Jake Madison. I am the coordinator of Cowboys for the PBR. Do you have a moment?”
“Yeah, shoot,” Tuck responded.
“The reason I’m calling is to give you official confirmation that you will be competing in the Finals and that we have everything arranged. Your hotel and all expenses are paid for by one of your new sponsors, and they have already taken care of everything. Your sponsor has requested that you receive the penthouse suite at the Monte Carlo and that you be given a stipend for your pleasure. Is that acceptable?” he explained.
Tuck was speechless. Never had he been at a loss for words, but this was the moment. A dead silence resonated through the truck, then Jake Madison said, “Mr. McGraw, are you still there?”
“Yeah, I am. I just don’t know what to say.”
It was then that Jessie spoke up. “He accepts, but also add three other people to the room, please. Bubba Franklin, Jessie Flanagan, and Amber Davis. We will be accompanying Mr. McGraw, and we’ll need keycards. Can you make that happen, Mr. Madison?”
“Yes, of course,” Mr. Madison responded.
It was then a light went on in Tuck’s brain, and he finally said, “Just hold up there, Jessie! I can’t bring you and Amber with me to Vegas.”
“And why not?” she snorted.
“Because I don’t have time to babysit you.”
“I don’t need to be babysat. I’ll have Amber and Bubba. I don’t need you.”
“Well, I don’t think your daddy will want you going to Vegas.”
“Well, I don’t care what Daddy wants. I am going whether you or he like it or not.”
“No!”
“Yes! I am,” she taunted.
“We will just see about that once we get back to the ranch,” he snapped back.
Jessie crossed her arms. “Yes, we shall see.”
Chapter Three
When they arrived back at the ranch, Jessie immediately exited the truck and ran into the house screaming for her father. “Daddy! Daddy!” Jessie yelled throughout the house, catching the attention of her mother, who emerged from the kitchen, and finally her father, who stepped out of his office to see what all the commotion was about.
“What’s up, little bird?” Liam Flanagan said as Jessie jumped into his arms.
“Daddy, would it be okay if I went to Vegas with Tuck, Bubba, and Amber?”
Liam laughed and said, “Little bird, you are twenty-six years old. You can do what you want. Just don’t get yourself arrested.”
“Oh good! Tuck thought maybe you wouldn’t let me,” Jessie exclaimed.
“Ha, he doesn’t know you very well then, does he, little bird?” Liam commented as Tuck came through the door, his hands full of Jessie’s bags.
“Tuck, can you come to my office really quick? I wanna go over a few things with you before the party tonight.”
Tuck dropped the bags on the floor, and Jessie picked a few of them up and started up the stairs. Tuck followed Liam into his office and waited as he sat down.
“Take a seat, Tuck. This won’t take long,” Mr. Flanagan requested as he pulled a whiskey bottle from his bottom desk drawer and two shot glasses and began pouring.
“What can I do for you, sir?” Tuck asked as Liam handed him a shot glass.
“You can watch over Jessie in Vegas. I know you’re gonna be busy as all get out, but I really need you to do this. See, she tends to get in a little over her head, and she also has a tendency of picking the wrong guys. I trust you and know that you’ll take care of her as if she were your own child,” Mr. Flanagan said as he held out his shot glass to Tuck for a toast.
“To winning that Gold Buckle and to all the Buckle Bunnies to come.” The men laughed and gulped their drinks down.
“No problem, Mr. Flanagan. I can handle Jessie.”
“I know you can. You’re probably the only one that can. That’s why I don’t mind her going with you. If it was anyone else, I would pull her expense account and she wouldn’t be going, that’s for damned sure,” Mr. Flanagan explained. “Okay, then—it’s settled.” Liam Flanagan leaned back in his leather chair and sighed. “Now to get back to work. Why don’t you go help out with the decorations out by the pool?”
“Will do, Mr. Flanagan, and thanks for everything.” Tuck stood up and then tipped his hat to Liam, who responded with his own tip of his hat, then headed out of the house and over to some of the men already out hanging lanterns around the pool area.
“Hey Tuck, thanks for the party and the half day off. Your hard work really does pay off for some.” The men laughed as Tuck grabbed a couple more lanterns and began handing them to one of the men on a ladder—his buddy, Bubba Franklin.
“So, you ready for Vegas?” Bubba Franklin said from the ladder above Tuck.
“About as ready as I’m gonna be. By the way, we have stow-aways coming,” Tuck replied, trying not to show how utterly freaked he was. Yeah, he had been in some really tight situations in combat even got shot once, but this was a whole new ballgame. He needed to win this purse and bring home the buckle, so that at the very least his mom didn’t have to struggle anymore. She had spent her entire life taking care of him, and when he left for the Army, he sent money home to help make things easier on her. But now that he was home, he wasn’t making the kind of money he made while he served, and it didn’t help that most of what he had saved went to equipment and trips to events. All his extra went to the rodeo and helping his mom the best he could.
“Hey, I got another sponsor. A big one too. Paid for everything plus got us a stipend for expenses, can you believe that shit?” Tuck told Bubba.
“Fuckin’ A. That’s awesome, man. Who?” Bubba asked.
“I don’t know. They said it was privileged information and couldn’t tell me. Said the donor wanted it that way.”
“Well, who the fuck cares then? Everything is paid for?” Bubba asked as Tuck handed him another lantern.
“Yep, everything,” Tuck said.
Bubba replied back with, “Strippers too?”
Tuck laughed and replied, “Doubtful, buddy. I think that will be on you. Hey, I gotta run home and grab a few things. I’ll be back for the party. Can you cover for me?”
“Sure, brother, I got your back. I’ll see you in a couple hours.” Bubba went back to hanging lanterns as Tuck ran to his truck and headed back to his house to change clothes and see if his momma needed any help.
When he arrived at the house, his momma’s car was gone, so he figured she was probably out doing errands for the party. He was dirty and dusty from the little bit of work he’d done, so he figured it was as good a time as any to get cleaned up and dressed for the party in a couple hours. He still needed to do some packing for Vegas, so while he looked for his best shirt, he grabbed his suitcase and started filling it with clothes he would need for the trip, then took a shower.
It seemed as he loaded up what little clothing he owned he thought back to the last time he packed for deployment and how it felt. It was never easy deploying. He was on his last deployment with guys that had grown to be family, and he felt guilty that in little more than a year he would no longer be throwing on his uniform but instead be strapping on chaps. He never thought in a million years that when he returned from Afghanistan that his unit would be four men short, or that in the time since he would be on his way to Las Vegas to compete for what he had dreamed of doing his entire life.
He wanted so much to be like his father, and so far he was living the dream and accomplishing everything his dad did and more. He hoped his daddy was as proud of him as Mr. Flanagan was. Liam Flanagan was a good man, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how such a loving, giving man and wife could give birth to such a terror of the town. Every time he thought of her, his feelings always went from
anger to pure passion, and he didn’t quite understand how that was.
Jessie Flanagan did everything she could to make his life a living hell, and now she would be accompanying him to Las Vegas. Oh, how it pissed him off that she played him the way she did, but he had no choice. She was gonna go no matter what, so it was now his responsibility to make sure she stayed outta trouble and especially not pick up no cowboys. He promised Mr. Flanagan, and he would do his best, even if it meant hog-tying her ass to him and draggin’ her all over Vegas.
Loading up what he could in the suitcase, then grabbing a quick shower, he looked down at his watch at realized he had only a few minutes to get back to the ranch for the party. Grabbing his jacket off the back of the kitchen table, he jetted out the door and jumped into his truck. Revving the engine, he headed down the road toward the ranch. It was only a few miles away, but if the entire town was going to be there, he knew it was gonna be difficult to find a place to park. He pulled in, passing under the Four Leaf Clover Ranch sign that sat at the edge of the property. He could see the abundance of cars, trucks, SUVs, and mini-vans dotting the landscape.
Yep, looks like the entire town was here. His heart fell into his stomach. He had to win now, or the whole town would laugh at him. He had to make that eight seconds every time, or he would come home a failure, and failure was not an option—not for this cowboy and former army ranger. There was no way he would go back a loser, and he really wanted to prove little Miss Bitchy Pants that he could win and win big.
Pulling up close to the main house, he noticed the valet service. What the hell? Valet? They really need valet? How many damn people are here? As he inched closer to where the valet servicemen stood, one of the men stepped up to the driver’s side door—it was Chet Donavon, a high school senior on the football team. Manchester was a small town, and football was the town pastime besides rodeos, and everyone knew everyone. It was small-town life with rich folks by the handfuls, but it was home, and he was proud of the town, and they were proud of him and his service to his country. Now they were celebrating him, and he hadn’t even won the buckle yet.