Back In The Saddle: Bachelor Auction - Book 2

by Vanessa Vale

  I stepped back, ran my hand over my mouth. It didn’t erase her taste. My dick was still punching against the front of my jeans to get out. “Oh yeah? I always believed in you. That’s why I left. So I wouldn’t hold you back. But who’s holding stopping you now? If your daddy believes in you, then why aren’t you running the shop? Why doesn’t he let you work on the cars? Every time I’m on a scene with Roy, he’s nothing but a lazy ass. Your father would rather employ that fucker than you, his own daughter.”

  A gasp escaped her lips, and she bumped my shoulder to get away. She ran across the lot. No question she hated my guts now.

  I stepped out into the middle of the lot and watched her head to her car. That was no fucking car. It was a vintage Jeep Wagoneer in mint condition. No doubt she’d overhauled the engine and done all the work herself.

  “That went fucking well,” I muttered after her brake lights disappeared out of the lot. I climbed back into my truck. I had to shift in my seat to get comfortable, my dick as hard as it had ever been.

  9

  SARAH

  * * *

  Sunday, 4 a.m.

  * * *

  I wanted to take over O’Banyons, but this was one part of the job I hated. Four a.m. was not my favorite time of day. I’d been tossing and turning for a second night in a row, thinking of Huck. Of what he’d said. Of my life and what I’d done with it. Or hadn’t done. The fight. The kiss. Oh, the kiss. He was right. I felt things for him. Enough to make out with him in the Lucky Spur’s parking lot. It had made me wet, horny, and definitely cranky.

  I must have fallen asleep, because my cell had woken me.

  Graham had called for the second time for a tow. I mentally cursed Roy for being a drunk, lazy ass and my father for enabling the guy. Where the hell were those two? If I wasn’t supposed to be doing anything but the books behind a desk, then why weren’t they answering their damned phones?

  I’d thrown on some clothes and driven to the shop to pick up the tow truck, wondering if I was enabling them as well. I was a doormat to them. They assumed I’d take care of everything. Clean up all the messes. Fill in for them when they decided to be lazy, drunk, entitled jerks.

  I had. Blindly. For years. God, I’d been doing my dad’s accounting for even longer than that. He’d forgotten how to do it. I was starting to see nothing would change unless I did.

  I cut through the early morning darkness on the way out of town, riding high in the tow truck. The seat was old and had me bouncing over the slightest bump.

  I’d been back from Bozeman for two years. In that time I’d built up my accounting business. Had good local clients. But I’d gotten nowhere with my dad. The one person who should’ve been helping me fulfill my dreams. He knew I wanted to run the shop. I’d made it clear over and over.

  And yet he stalled, just like a car with water in the gas tank.

  I eased off the accelerator as the flashing blue and red lights came into view. I was on the two-lane stretch that connected The Bend to the interstate. It was a straight and level road, but accidents happened. I flipped on my hazards and the yellow tow lights on the roof and slowed to a crawl as I took in the scene that was well lit from a fire truck and two police cars. I counted six first responders milling around.

  There was a single car off the road. Flipped. I pulled past the scene, then parked on the shoulder. Cutting the engine, I hopped down from the cab, grabbed the reflective vest that was tucked into the pocket on the door, and shrugged it on. Then I grabbed my leather gloves.

  I walked around the back and down into the ditch. The four-door sedan was snagged on the barbed-wire fence that ran along the road. The car was set back about fifteen feet, and from the wheel tracks that cut through the mud and grass, it must’ve been going pretty fast.

  I had to figure out how best to get the tow truck into place so I could use the winch to get the vehicle up onto the bed. Since it was upside down, front or back didn’t matter.

  I pushed up the slight incline and came into the beam of the fire truck’s bright lights. I raised my foot to step, but freaked and jumped back, practically high stepping like a horse. It wasn’t a snake, which usually made me lose my shit. But this was no snake. There on the ground was a body. A very dead one based on the fact his head was turned at an angle only seen in exorcisms from ’80s horror movies. It was the fence post that stuck through his chest that made bile rise in my throat. A strange gasp escaped, and I felt the blood rush from my face and my fingers began to tingle.

  I hadn’t seen the body and almost stepped on it…

  I stared and stared. Sweat dotted my forehead, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to vomit or bolt. I’d never seen a dead body before, not even at a wake all dressed and peaceful.

  This guy had died violently, clearly flung from the car when it had either flipped or made impact with the ground after.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  I jumped and spun around at the rough voice. The same one who’d scolded me earlier at the bar. Huck. He loomed over me, half of him caught in deep shadow so he looked ominous.

  I almost stumbled on the uneven ground, but his hand on my elbow kept me steady, then pulled me away from the body.

  How was it I’d made it six years barely seeing the guy and now I couldn’t stop running into him? His touch was reassuring. Steadying.

  I swallowed hard, bile in my throat. “I… I got called to tow a car.”

  He finally stopped when we were back on the side of the road, lit by headlights from one of the police cars. He ran a hand over his face, then set it on the hilt of his weapon at his hip. He had on his Stetson and jeans but looked official in his uniform shirt with the shiny star on the chest and utility belt. He hadn’t been wearing it earlier at the Lucky Spur. I had no idea why I thought of that now.

  If his weary eyes were any indicator, he hadn’t slept all that much either. But they were sharp, narrowed. His jaw was clenched and covered in whiskers. Even lit up by the harsh red and blue lights, I couldn’t miss that he was pissed.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Where the hell is Roy?”

  I didn’t answer his question, only blinked at him, then shivered. “That guy… God, Huck, that guy—”

  I was yanked against Huck’s solid chest, and his arms went around me. One big hand slid up and down my back. The other cupped my head. My cheek was pressed into his uniform shirt, and I started to cry.

  It was because a guy had died in a car accident, definitely. But Huck was holding me, giving me comfort. I’d relied on him to protect me when we’d dated, and I’d loved it. Craved the way I’d felt safe. I’d forgotten what his hugs were like. How he smelled. In the fresh night air I breathed in his scent. Rugged and dark. Laundry detergent but also man. He was warm and steady, powerful and protective.

  “I’m sorry you saw that, baby girl,” he murmured, then kissed my hair. “Just take a minute.”

  I nodded against his chest and slowly pulled myself together. I should be hating him after what he’d said earlier, but I couldn’t. Not now.

  With a gentle tug on my hair, he tipped my head back so I had to look up at him. “Where the hell is Roy?”

  I stiffened at the repeated question, then frowned. “Why does everyone think I can’t do this? I know I’m small, but I’m not lifting the car onto the tow truck.”

  “You should be safe in bed, not out here. Where’s Roy?”

  He wasn’t going to settle until he got his answer.

  “He didn’t answer his cell, I guess. Graham called me.”

  “Graham has your number?” If Huck had fur, he’d have a stripe raised up his back based on the way he asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Graham and I are having a wild fling. He calls me to meet him. At car accidents. It’s pretty hot.”

  “Talk like that gets you over my knee, baby girl.”

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to punch him in the throat or climb him like a tree for that. The one time we’d had sex, it
had been hot. A little frantic, but I’d been a virgin and had had no clue what I was doing. It had hurt like hell, too, even though Huck had been gentle.

  But I’d learned I didn’t want gentle. He’d been holding back with me, and for my first time I was thankful. But I wasn’t a virgin any longer, and my needs weren’t tame. Or at least they weren’t tame with Huck.

  I wanted him to take me over his knee. Then fuck me hard.

  That wasn’t what I needed to think about right now. Or ever. I stepped back from his hold. Remembered where I was. That it was Huck standing in front of me. I shouldn’t be seeking comfort from him. I hated him. Right?

  “Then stop asking stupid questions,” I snapped.

  His lips thinned, and his gaze shifted between mine. I felt as if I was a suspect and he was waiting for me to admit my guilt to a crime.

  “Head back to your truck. It’s going to take a little time. The preschool downtown, Claire’s preschool, was set on fire earlier. An eyewitness put this car”—he tipped his head toward the flipped vehicle—“at the scene. There’s a gas can and other evidence that has to be gone through.”

  “God, was anyone hurt?”

  He shook his head, but his jaw clenched tight. I was sure he was thinking about his daughter and the other children being caught in a fire. Some of my fight left me then, realizing all that Huck had stacked on his shoulders.

  “Someone will get you when it’s time to load the car.” He turned, then shifted back. Lowered his head before I could even blink, and kissed me hard and fast. His mouth was firm, intent. His tongue plundered for one delicious lick. Then he stalked off.

  “That’s it?” I called, setting my fingers on my lips. “Wait?”

  He stopped, looked over his shoulder at me. “You need to talk to your daddy.”

  10

  HUCK

  * * *

  Sunday, 11 a.m.

  * * *

  I pulled my police SUV up in front of the main house. Kelsey climbed out and didn’t look back, meeting Alice on the front porch. The older woman put her arms around Kelsey’s shoulders and led her inside. Kelsey hated me because I’d arrested her so she’d be forced to talk to Sawyer. It was complicated and their own story, but yeah, she wasn’t happy with me. That was fine. What was important was that she loved Sawyer, even when he was hotheaded.

  It had been a clusterfuck at the station after we got back from the rollover. Since Kelsey had been the only witness to the fire the night before, Sawyer had brought her in to write a statement. Bunky, a guy we’d grown up with who was a total asshole, had shown up for a report to file with insurance because he was the owner of the preschool building that had burned. But it turned out he was also Kelsey’s ex. She’d followed him to Montana and found out he was a lying douche canoe and was married—to Sarah’s sister, Lynn—and had two kids. In the station lobby, Sawyer had punched Bunky in the face for being an asshole to Kelsey and had stormed off, pissed.

  There were details I didn’t know, but I’d driven Kelsey to the ranch because she had no place to go since it turned out she’d been living in the preschool that burned. I had a feeling that once Sawyer cooled off, he’d be thankful she was safe. And here on the ranch where she belonged. He loved her. That was obvious. That was why I got involved, even if it had Kelsey hating my guts.

  She had to wait her turn, because Sarah was at the front of the line for that.

  I loved Sarah. Always had. I’d only pushed the idea of it down deep so I didn’t have to feel how much it hurt to crave someone I couldn’t have. Bill O’Banyon had seen to that. Claire’s birth had put the nail in the coffin of our relationship.

  But Sawyer was whipped. Ever since Kelsey had kneed him in the balls, from what I’d figured.

  But Bunky? That was a fucking bump in the road Sawyer was going to have to get over. I huffed out a laugh, because fortunately for me, I never had to worry about Sarah getting together with her brother-in-law.

  At least one of the O’Banyon daughters had done what Daddy wanted and married well. But Lynn wasn’t the sister I cared about.

  I pulled around the circle driveway and back down the lane to the main road. I’d been up all night. Based on Kelsey’s account, it appeared the dead guy was the suspected arsonist. He wasn’t going to be setting any more fires, but it was going to be hard to figure out why he’d set this one in the first place with him in the morgue.

  All I wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep the day away, but that wasn’t going to happen. I had so much fucking paperwork from the two calls I’d be lucky if I got home by dinner.

  My cell rang, and since I was driving, I didn’t check the display. I pushed the button to answer through speaker mode.

  “Manning.”

  “Ignoring me and my lawyer isn’t going to make me go away.”

  The cranky voice had me grimacing. Fuck. Mandy. I’d meant to call her after talking with Kale in the ER, and deal with her shit, but I’d gotten sidetracked.

  “I have a job, unlike you,” I said. I didn’t know if that was the case, but it was a pretty good guess.

  “I’m filing for custody.”

  “Why? You haven’t given a shit before now.” I wasn’t even sure why I was wasting my breath. I should let Kale deal with her and keep me from stroking out.

  “Because she’s my daughter.”

  “Bullshit. You haven’t called, sent cards, presents. Nothing. You don’t give a shit about her. What’s the real reason?”

  She stayed silent.

  “You want more money.”

  “I’m her mother!” Her voice was shrill and agitated.

  “And that makes you deserving of compensation?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I made her.”

  I shook my head, pushed the button to lower the window so the fresh air came in. Made Claire? I thought of Maple and her puppies.

  I counted to ten, then gritted out, “You do realize extorting a cop isn’t the smartest of ideas.”

  “I want custody. I’ll petition for it.”

  “Bullshit,” I said again. I’d initially paid her so she’d go away. She didn’t want Claire, but she’d put me on the birth certificate and told me Claire was mine because she knew I had deep pockets. Eighteen years’ worth. But when I’d learned the truth, having my name as Claire’s legal father had screwed her over. She hadn’t been able to put Claire up for adoption without my consent.

  The only thing she could do was walk. And the fifty grand incentive I’d given her to do so had worked. But now she was back for more.

  “It’s been five years, Mandy. Why the fuck are you back now? The cash didn’t hold you?”

  “I have bills.”

  Bills. More like she owed someone. Drugs. Gambling. Whatever.

  I’d pay her. Hell, I’d sell the ranch if it meant keeping Claire safe. But Mandy was stupid. A judge would see through her petition. Through everything. Eventually. She’d drag this shit out if it meant a chance at some cash. She wasn’t stupid. She knew I was protective of Claire and was extorting that, too.

  Fuck me.

  I finally had a chance with Sarah, and Mandy was back.

  I wanted a life with Sarah. I wanted her to know Claire, to be her mother. They hadn’t even met and the image was so perfect it made my breath catch. But having Mandy in the picture, fucking with all that, was not okay. I’d dealt with Mandy because I’d made her my business. But Sarah didn’t owe the woman anything. She deserved a family. Peace. Not a greedy drug addict threatening to destroy it all.

  It was time to wean Mandy off the money tit. To make her gone for good. Because with her around, I couldn’t be completely free to have Sarah. The fact that Sarah had handcuffed me to my bed proved that.

  “Try your shit if you want, but know this. You’re not getting near Claire. She’s not what you want. You don’t give a shit about her. Didn’t even ask how she was, what she looks like. I’ll get to the point. You’re not getting shit from me. Not one dime.”
>
  “You’re a Manning. You’ve got more money than you can spend.”

  “I do,” I said. “I’ll spend all of it to see you fail. Like I said. Go back under the rock you crawled out from under because I’m not your sugar daddy.”

  “You’re an asshole,” she shouted.

  I sighed. “So I’ve been told.”

  I hung up. There was nothing new to say, and all talking would do was piss me off further. And her. The way she’d gotten more and more wound up as we spoke definitely meant she was unstable. I wanted her nowhere near me. Nowhere near Claire. I’d get Kale on it once he was off the pain pills, make her go away for good, because if I did it, she’d be buried in the back forty somewhere.

  I didn’t hurt women, but Mandy? I’d make an exception because she was using my five-year-old as a pawn.

  I thought of Sarah, of what kind of mother she’d be. How sweet she was—except right now with me—and caring. Thoughtful. Kind. Gentle. Hot as fuck. Passionate.

  Shit. I thought of her riding my face. The only sweet she’d been then was sweet tasting.

  If we hadn’t broken up, she’d have my ring on her finger and a few kids by now. I could imagine her belly round with my child.

  My dick hardened at the idea of filling her with my cum and knocking her up. We’d have a little girl that had her fair hair. A few boys, too, to protect her. A brood of them.

  But then I wouldn’t have Claire, who was too precious to me to consider what-ifs. She was mine, and I wouldn’t change a thing. But for some reason I’d been given a second chance with Sarah. Sure, it was totally fucked up. She hadn’t approached me because she wanted me back, but because she’d been pissed off.

  I huffed out a laugh and turned onto the main road. The Manning boys sure knew how to pick ’em. Kelsey was a red-haired spitfire with a hellish temper. I’d laughed at Sawyer when he told us how she’d kneed him in the balls. I could only imagine how he’d laugh right back after he learned how I’d had to break my headboard to get free of what Sarah had done.