Roughneck: A Payne Brothers Romance

by Frost, Sosie

  Well…yeah. “And what’s wrong with that?”

  “You’re all alone on your first trip to the big city…” Tidus mocked me with a shake of his head. “And now you’re too scared to tell him about the accident because you’re afraid he’ll be disappointed.”

  “I get the feeling you disappointed your father a lot.”

  “But we’re talking about you.”

  “And what makes you qualified to judge me?”

  He took a special pride in being despicable. “I’m a guy who…specializes in girls with daddy issues.”

  “No wonder,” I said. “The only girls you probably get are the ones without an ounce of self-esteem.”

  “I catch them before they hit rock bottom.”

  “Then sweep them off their feet only to rush them out of your hotel room in the morning?”

  Tidus wasn’t shamed. “Most women know what to expect of me.”

  “Trouble?”

  “More than you could imagine. You curious?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think I hit you hard enough.”

  “Want to give it another go?”

  “Don’t test me, bad boy,” I said. “Next time, I might forget to use the brake.”

  He had a nice laugh. Pity the rest of him came with it. “You’re breaking my heart, Honey. Just admit it. You think I’m attractive.”

  “Yeah…” I wasn’t going to lie. Not about that. “But it’s wasted on you.”

  “I’ve always put it to good use.”

  “I doubt you’ve ever done anything good in your life.”

  He leaned close, but I wasn’t about to let him intimidate me. My back might’ve flattened against the truck, and my heart might have pounded a new dent into the frame, but he wouldn’t get the better of me.

  Even if his beastly green eyes darkened with excitement.

  Even if the husky rasp of his voice dripped as much sarcasm as it did sensuality.

  Even if his leather and ink was both warning and mystery.

  This man was made to be a girl’s favorite mistake. But, in his bed, she could learn a valuable lesson night after night after night…

  Tidus was nothing but trouble—he knew how to make it, how to get out of it, and how to drag a girl headfirst into it. Everything I didn’t want.

  He smelled of machinery and iron, rust and masculinity. The hunter green of his eyes finally captured me, but I wasn’t surrendering, even as he pinned me against the truck.

  He dared me to bolt.

  Like I’d give him that satisfaction.

  “Admit it,” he whispered. “You’re a little curious.”

  “I’m not that naïve. I know what you want.”

  “Afraid you might like it?”

  “Should I be?”

  He nearly pressed against me, his warmth radiating to my skin. He looked, but he didn’t touch. Teased, but didn’t take.

  “When was the last time you did something bad, Honey Hudson?” His words dripped with amusement. “When was the last time you got a little…dirty?”

  Well, that was easy.

  Never.

  “What do you say we disappoint Daddy together?” he said.

  “Wasn’t disappointing yours bad enough?”

  He flinched. Just briefly. “That’s how a guy like me has fun.”

  “A man like you should try to have less fun.”

  “That’s all we’ve got in this life.” His stare bound me in place. “Fun…and disappointment. In yourself. In others.”

  I accidentally licked my lips. “That’s a horrible way to look at the world.”

  “Just being honest.”

  That I didn’t believe, even while squirming in his shadow, daring to meet his gaze. “There’s not an honest bone in your body.”

  “Care to check?”

  My words whispered, drawn from a secret part of me I tried to keep hidden. “You might be the most depraved man I’ve ever met.”

  “I hope I am.”

  Tidus edged closer. The leather of his jacket brushed against my bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. I clutched my arms tighter around me, but what good did it do? I still revealed more than I dared to this man. My delicate collarbone. The gentle slope of my shoulders. The swell of my breasts hidden beneath my arms.

  He reached for me, the back of his fingers gently rubbing against my arm as he nudged the bra’s strap off my shoulder.

  My lips parted, but he made no move. Simply watched me.

  Admired me.

  Why didn’t he just kiss me already?

  Or was that part of his game? Why kiss me when he could take greater satisfaction in knowing that I’d imagined such a revolting, wonderful mistake?

  “What are you going to tell Daddy?” Tidus whispered.

  “I have no idea.”

  His fingertips were rough, but his touch cast goosebumps over my skin. I stood perfectly still, mouth-dry, heart betraying me with each raging thump. His hand drifted lower and lower, until he traced my hip and tip-toed his fingers to my pocket.

  He grabbed my phone.

  “Go on…better tell Daddy to hurry up and save you before you get seduced by a big, bad man willing to bend you over his bumper and wreck you too.”

  I considered smacking him across the cheek, but that would have dropped my arms and revealed my chest. No sense punishing him only to reward his behavior. He’d probably like that even more.

  Tidus was a massively arrogant, wretchedly disgusting, thoroughly revolting prick of a man.

  Unfortunately, he was also right.

  I had to tell Daddy. But how the hell to do it? How could I tell him that I’d had the truck for a week and already wrecked it?

  How was I supposed to get to the Brawl-B-Que now?

  I’d vowed to come home with the title he’d never won. All of this—the truck, the business, the competition—was for him.

  I couldn’t disappoint him.

  Momma’s voice crackled over the phone. “And here’s a picture from your graduation party…such a pity your water bra sprung that leak. You looked a little lopsided in that dress, but we told everyone you’d tucked a pocket Bible close to your heart. No one even noticed.”

  I sighed and dropped my arms. No sense preserving any pride now. What was flatter…me or my truck’s tires?

  Tidus encouraged me with a wink. “Think of how much better you’ll feel once you get this off your chest…a perfectly lovely chest.”

  I grabbed the phone with a scowl, but the words caught in my throat.

  “Hey, Daddy…” I said.

  Tidus waited.

  I waited.

  All I had to do was ask for help. They deserved the truth.

  I had failed before I even started.

  Daddy piped up from the kitchen. “Tia, don’t you be teasing our baby. She’s a chef now—might not have a fancy degree or a kitchen of her own, but she’s out there, making money, starting her business.”

  “Oh, Honeybee knows how proud I am.” Momma’s smile brightened the call. “My baby—all grown up and out on her own. Makes a woman cry, that’s what it does. Lord have mercy, my little girl is all big and important now.”

  “We’re so happy for you, Honey,” Daddy said.

  Momma agreed. “Mmhmm. You’re on your way to big things. I can feel it. Ain’t nobody stopping you now.”

  Not exactly true. One person could still ruin it all.

  Me.

  I sucked in a breath. No way. I wasn’t letting my business end this way—begging my parents for money they didn’t have to fix a mistake I never should have made.

  I’d crashed myself into this mess, and I’d get myself out.

  “Momma, Daddy,” I said. “I love you. I’ll call you later.”

  I ended the call—truck wrecked, but pride intact.

  Tidus hadn’t expected that. Maybe I wasn’t so easily read after all?

  His words tickled over my skin. “Are you sure about this, little girl?�
�

  Absolutely.

  I lifted my chin, staring him square in the eye. “Know what the difference is between just starting out and getting a second chance?”

  He frowned. “What’s that?”

  “Not a damn thing. There is no difference. Life is all about what you can make from the opportunities it brings.” I shrugged. “So, I’ve had a setback. No big deal. Everyone makes mistakes. And this one…I’m handling on my own.”

  “Can’t tell if you’re brave or foolish.”

  Neither. “I’m not a helpless little girl.”

  “Of course not.”

  I poked his chest, pushing him away from me. The space let me breathe, clear my head, and realize how close I’d come to making an even worse mistake.

  “This is my business,” I said. “It’s my name on the truck now. I’m not going to beg them to bail me out just cause I got in some trouble.”

  “The sooner you realize you can’t count on anyone but yourself, the better off you’ll be.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I pity you.”

  Tidus didn’t let me escape. His arms closed around me, and I hated myself for nearly melting into his embrace. My fingers instinctively tangled in his shirt, pressing hard against his chest.

  This man was utter strength.

  Strength, aggression, masculinity, and a healthy dose of arrogance.

  He was the sexiest man I’d ever met in my life—and the most infuriating.

  His voice lowered, pulsing in my core. “Okay, Honey. Let’s get serious.”

  “For once in your life?”

  “I’m always serious—just makes people hate me more,” Tidus winked.

  “Can’t imagine why.”

  His words lowered. “You’re in trouble. I can help. I won’t make you beg for it, but I’d sure love to hear it.”

  The insult rocked through me. I huffed an angry breath. Licking my parted lips didn’t help. Tidus chuckled, his laugh promising me everything I wasn’t brave enough to imagine.

  “Doesn’t have to be a big deal,” he said. “It’s just a quick hook-up. I’ll take you back to my place. Get a look under that hood.”

  I didn’t have many standards, but the ones I had were higher than that. “Absolutely not.”

  He was nothing if not relentless. “Believe me, Honey. I know what you need. I’ll give you a good work-over. Top to bottom. Might take a lot of work, but I’m willing to go all night on that body. Make sure you don’t run too hot.”

  Unbelievable.

  My slap cracked against his cheek. A red splotch immediately blossomed through the stubble on his jaw. He rubbed the sting away with a charming grin.

  “How dare you,” I hissed. The damned lust clouded my voice. “Are you still propositioning me?”

  “I’m the best man for this job.”

  “Hell no.”

  “I’m only gonna offer once.”

  “At least you have some self-respect,” I said.

  Tidus snickered, but it wasn’t a kind laugh. Like he wanted to insult me, degrade me, irritate me.

  Like he got off on people being angry with him.

  Or maybe he’d just grown accustomed to everyone’s distain.

  “So, you don’t want my help?” he asked.

  “Not if you were the last man on earth.”

  “Might be the only one in twenty miles or so.” His smile was a warning I didn’t understand. “Won’t find service like mine anywhere else.”

  “Forget it. You’re not screwing me.”

  He shrugged. “Always thought I had reasonable rates. Don’t say I didn’t offer.”

  I braced myself as he walked away with only a second glance to my smoldering, crumpled wreckage. He hopped in his truck and started the engine.

  What the hell was he doing?

  I chased after him, racing to his driver’s side window. “Wait! What about your truck? Don’t you need my insurance information?”

  Tidus waved a lazy hand. “Not worth it. I’ll bang out those dents once I get back to the garage.”

  Something about the way he said garage needled at my brain.

  I went still. “The garage?”

  “Yeah. I’ll fix it myself.” He eyed my truck through the rear-view mirror. “Could’ve worked on your truck too, but I guess you’re not interested.”

  This wasn’t happening.

  Maybe I’d hit my head in the crash. Maybe one of my cast iron pans had careened forward, smacked me in the temple, and I’d entered some sort of Dating Game purgatory.

  …Or maybe Hell was a really bad episode of The Bachelor.

  I bit my lip. “You’re not a—”

  “A mechanic? Butterpond’s one and only.”

  Going back to his place? Hooking up? Getting a look under my hood?

  Who had the dirty mind now?

  I groaned, head in my hands. “You have to be kidding me. You were serious?”

  “I take my work almost as seriously as I take my women.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “But if you think you can handle everything on your own…” His laugh burned through me. “Then good luck, Honey Hudson. You’re gonna need it.”

  2

  Tidus

  A man didn’t go wrong by the prick of a needle or the puff of a joint.

  He went wrong once he started looking for trouble.

  Mine had a name.

  Honey Hudson.

  And, like an addict, I crawled back to Butterpond eager to face my own destruction.

  I’d left town for two days hoping to get the image of her out of my head and the fantasy of her out of my balls. I came home with no answers. Just questions.

  Who was she? What was so goddamned special about that woman?

  And how much of a pain in the ass could one girl be?

  Not that it mattered. I usually fucked myself. Getting screwed over by a pretty girl was a new sort of torture. Normally I self-inflicted. Honey was a good change of pace over my preferred torment.

  And so I went home, though I didn’t know what made Butterpond home anymore. Wasn’t the family farm. Wasn’t my brothers and sister. This town was just the place a man was born or where he eventually washed up. Either way, he was going nowhere if he stayed in Butterpond. That’s why I liked it.

  It was a town where everything stayed the same, everyone expected you to change, but no one ever believed you’d actually follow through.

  The people all existed in the same cycle of jaded expectations with the occasional bout of optimism. Sure, everyone promised they’d do more, be more, go to more places. But I knew enough about promises. The best ones were guaranteed to get broken.

  Despite what everyone thought, I’d never wanted to live anywhere else. Even liked the people stuck in the rural ass-end of nowhere. Maybe my sincerity always sounded like sarcasm, or maybe life was too short to convince people of shit they’d never believe. So I never bothered.

  But for Honey Hudson?

  She was a different sort of girl. Beautiful. Funny. It’d been easy to get under her skin, but it’d be fucking tough to get under her clothes. It wasn’t even that I’d wanted to get laid. I just wondered what would happen if I offered a girl out of my league the night of her dreams.

  Sure, she pretended she’d been insulted. Insinuated I was vile, wretched, terrible—but I’d learned that long ago. Even started to embrace it.

  But Honey hadn’t admitted the truth. She was as curious as me.

  No. She’d been tempted.

  My philosophy was simple. Temptation alone was a waste of an evening. Nothing ever tasted as sweet as guilt.

  But I had loads of guilt.

  That’s what made Butterpond so perfect. Guilt and secrets. My contribution was great, but more than enough secrets, sins, and scandals rocked the community without my influence. And, like an artist signing a signature to his painting, I accepted the blame for all that ailed
Butterpond. Had no other legacy to offer, so I left a bad reputation instead.

  And criminally low prices at my garage. My own contribution to the community.

  Unfortunately, after two days away from town, my garage seemed to be a prime target for what passed as petty crime in Butterpond. Someone squatted in the dark in front of the door, desperately jiggling the handle before a car passed by and illuminated his trespassing.

  The kid thought he was hot shit. Too bad he didn’t hear me coming.

  I grabbed the twerp by the collar and spun his ass around. Big, baby-blue eyes stared at me, startled. The boy had a black eye, fat lip, and a hell of a lot of nerve to piss with me.

  “Uncle Tidus!” He struggled as I hauled him off the ground. “Stop! It’s me! Spence!”

  Oh, I knew it was him, but that made it more likely I’d kick his ass. I released his collar only to swipe my leg under his. Spencer sprawled to the ground. First, he pouted. Then he swore.

  “What the fuck did you do that for?” he shouted.

  Serious words for an eleven-year-old.

  He attempted to clamor back to his feet. I slipped his ankles again, keeping him on the ground.

  I frowned. “A mouth that dirty stays in the dirt.”

  He scowled, but Spencer was all bark, hardly any bite, and just scrawny enough to pass as a stray.

  I glanced across the darkened street. We were alone. No chaperone for the kid. Didn’t surprise me. Spencer was good at sneaking around. But a kid his age didn’t belong out this late at night. He could take care of himself, but that didn’t mean he’d get himself out of trouble.

  “Why are you busting my balls?” Spencer huffed.

  “Watch your damned mouth.”

  “Why? I heard Dad say it.” Spencer gave me a shit-eating grin. “And you.”

  “Me and your Dad are allowed to use those words.”

  “You think I won’t if you’re not around?”

  “Think you’d have enough sense to not say it where civilized people can hear you.”

  “You’re not civilized.”

  That was true. “Why don’t you pretend I’m someone who gives a damned about polite society?”

  “You won’t tell on me,” Spencer said. “We’re friends, Uncle Tidus.”

  I didn’t have any friends, and we weren’t actually family. The kid’s dad, Justin, had lived at the farm as a foster kid for a couple years. Grew up with me and my brothers. The state thought it would set him straight. Turned out we gave him just enough of a foundation to get out on his own and knock up the wrong woman.