Buckle Up, Buttercup Read online

  A now familiar tingle went down my spine, reminding me how I felt in Beau's presence. He made me feel all warm and tingly, my tummy fluttering with butterflies and my center warming up at the mere thought of him. I wanted to surprise him, thank him for the beautiful night that had made me forget about all my problems, even if it was just for one night. I decided to make him breakfast in bed. I'd always loved cooking, and preparing a meal for those I cared about most was one of my favorite things in the world.

  I rummaged through the cupboards and placed all the ingredients I needed on the marble countertop, starting to make the pancake mix and adding fresh blueberries from his fridge to the bowl. Minutes later, delicious scents filled the spacious kitchen as I set to work on making the perfect breakfast.

  "And who on earth are you?"

  I turned around sharply at the sound of a woman's voice I didn't recognize.

  A gorgeous redhead was standing in the doorway leading from the hallway into the kitchen, her arms crossed and her eyebrows quirked up as she stared at me questioningly.

  "Hello," I said softly. "I'm..."

  "I don't actually care," she interrupted me, rolling her eyes as if I was some nuisance in the way. "What are you doing in Beau's house?"

  "He..."

  My words trailed off into nothing. Suddenly I was feeling incredibly self-conscious, nervously toying with the hem of Beau's shirt that I'd put on before exiting the bedroom. Who was this woman, and why was she questioning my presence in his house? Shouldn't it have been the other way around?

  Unless...

  "He what?" she barked at me, obviously displeased with my too slow answer. "You actually got a working mouth on you, girl?"

  "He invited me o-over," I managed to stutter. "We met l-last night."

  "Did you?" she asked in a fake, syrupy sweet voice. "And he just invited you to come over, is that so?"

  "Yes," I replied, trying to be firm.

  We stared at one another, a silent confrontation between us. She wanted to know who the hell I was, but I had the very same question for her, and she obviously wasn't going to offer up an answer. But I wasn't about to give in, either.

  "Well, you can leave now," she told me plainly. "I'm here, so Beau doesn't need you anymore."

  "What about..." I glanced around at the breakfast I'd prepared, the steaming plate of pancakes, with freshly squeezed orange juice and toppings I'd laid out on a platter. "I made him breakfast."

  She glared at me, taking several long, determined steps until she was standing right in front of me. She was intimidating, being much taller than me and skinny as a twig, but with the way she towered over me, she made me shrink back in fear.

  "I said," she hissed. "You need to fucking leave now, little girl."

  "Says who?" I said in a small voice, my last ditch effort to resist her.

  She couldn't just throw me out of the house, could she? All my things were upstairs, where Beau was blissfully asleep in the master bedroom. And I still didn't have a clue who the girl was, though a nagging voice in the back of my mind was determinedly telling me she sure as hell wasn't good news.

  "Says me," she argued, her eyes blazing with fire as they locked with mine.

  "And you are?" I taunted her, demanding her to say the words, to prove that everything about last night had been a lie.

  "Me?" she purred sweetly. "Why, I'm Beau's girlfriend."

  My heart sank into the pit of my stomach and I felt tears welling in my eyes, on the verge of spilling down my cheeks.

  "Okay," I whispered, pulling at the hem of Beau's shirt nervously, suddenly desperate to rip it off my body, but knowing full well I was naked underneath. "I'll get out of your hair. I never meant to... I didn't know."

  She offered me a brilliant smile, saying, "Just because he strays every once in a while doesn't mean we won't have our happily ever after. You don't belong here, little girl. So you better get on your way."

  The tears were coming now, spilling down my cheeks as I looked away, unable to bear the weight of her gaze.

  "I'll be on my way," I whispered. "Could you..."

  I looked up into her eyes, filled with contempt and anger. She wasn't going to give him my message, no matter what I said. So I just shrugged and took a deep breath, a trembling smile on my lips.

  "I'm sorry," I muttered. "I really didn't know you two were..."

  "Dating?" she interrupted. "Well, we are. Now leave."

  I hesitated for another second, knowing I had nowhere to go but back to the strip club, back to the life I'd been so desperate to leave.

  And I was still wearing nothing but Beau's shirt and my thong from last night. I didn't even have my shoes on.

  "I'll call you a cab," she said with a heavy sigh. "I just want you out of my hair as soon as possible. I'm sure you understand, don't you?"

  I nodded brokenly.

  "I can forgive Beau for his little indiscretions," she went on without any regard whatsoever for my feelings. "But I don't want them sticking around, as I'm sure you can understand."

  She made a quick phone call as I turned away, unable to bear her accusatory glances. I couldn't believe it. How could he not have told me he was in a relationship? I deserved to know the truth. I deserved to know he was taken... but now it was too late. I found myself falling for him the previous night, and as hard as I tried to fight it, it didn't help one bit.

  "Car will be outside in five," she told me with a syrupy sweet grin. "You better walk down the driveway and wait for the driver there."

  "Can I wait in here?" I asked timidly, glancing through the window. "It's so hot outside."

  She gave me a long look, finally shaking her head.

  "I don't want you here," she said primly. "You've already overextended your stay, little girl. Now get the fuck out of our house."

  I half-expected her to escort me out of the room. She looked ready to be rid of me, so I shuffled uncomfortably on my feet.

  "Bye," she said pointedly, motioning toward the door. "Time to go."

  Shaking, I left the room.

  The ground outside was hot underneath my bare feet, and I shook as I walked down the driveway in nothing but his shirt. The sun was beating down, and my feet were getting burnt my the hot gravel, small stones digging into the soles of my feet.

  I waited for the driver for a couple of minutes, and soon enough, a truck showed up with a scowling guy sitting in the driver seat, wearing a cowboy hat.

  "You waiting for a ride?" he asked, and I nodded.

  He motioned for me to get in, and I did, hoisting myself into his truck and silently buckling myself in while giving the man a sideways glance. He was older than me, probably as old as my father was now - mid-forties. He had skin deeply tanned by the sun and bright white teeth, with worry lines etched permanently into his once handsome face. He had a handlebar mustache and his scowl seemed permanently plastered to his face.

  "You can stop staring now," he told me, his lips quirking upwards in a smile. "I'm not going to hurt you. Where to?"

  I struggled with an answer, fidgeting in my seat.

  The man pulled down his aviator sunglasses, giving me a long inquisitive look.

  "You got somewhere to go, darlin'?" he asked me as he pulled out of the driveway.

  The term of endearment reminded me of Beau, and I felt fresh hot tears stinging my eyes, desperate to spill down my cheeks again. I must have looked like a right mess too, with a face streaked with tears and the previous night's makeup. I hadn't even had the chance to shower.

  I wiped my eyes.

  "Just take me to the club on A51 highway," I said brokenly, and his brows shot up in surprise.

  "The strip club?" he asked worriedly. "You sure you're old enough to be there, darlin'?"

  "I'm eighteen," I whispered. "It was my birthday yesterday."

  "Well, happy birthday," he muttered, turning onto the road and starting to drive towards the destination.

  I didn't mean to, but I started to cry softly,
covering my face with my hands, desperate to hide them from the older man.

  "Darlin'," he finally said. "There's tissues in the glove compartment. Help yourself to some."

  I opened the drawer, grateful for his kindness as I pulled out the tissues, wiping my face of the tears and makeup. I wanted it all gone. I wanted to just forget the night had ever happened. That I'd slept with a taken man... That I'd gone off and abandoned Dex at the strip club. He would be so angry with me.

  "I know things might seem a bit..." the man started. "Well, a bit upsetting right now. But what I've learned, darlin', is that everything happens for a reason."

  I let out a sad, choked little laugh and he glanced at me.

  "My life is a mess," I admitted.

  "Well, talk to me about it," he offered. "We got forty minutes of drivin' to do. Might as well help you."

  "I moved here with my foster brother," I admitted brokenly. "I got thrown out of the home I'd been living in because my birthday was coming up. The only jobs we could get were at the club on the highway. Me, as a dancer, and him, as a bouncer."

  "How'd you know Beau?" he asked roughly.

  "I..." I started, but my words trailed off into nothing. "I don't know him at all, I suppose."

  He stayed quiet for a while before saying, "You know, I don't think you should make any rash decisions today. That Amy... she's bad news."

  I looked at him with a curious look. "How do you know Beau?"

  "I worked for his family for a long time," he admitted reluctantly. "But... we had a couple of spats. I'm afraid he doesn't like me much these days anymore."

  "That's a shame," I told him.

  He seemed like a nice guy.

  "My name is Randy, by the way, darlin'," he told me grinning at me as he glanced away from the road for a second. "If you ever need anythin', you're free to call me up. I live in town. The big green house with flowers on the windowsills, next to the hardware store. Can't miss it."

  "Thank you so much. My name is Winnie," I whispered, sniffling a little and crumpling the tissue in my hand. "So what are Beau's parents like?"

  "They're gone, darlin'," he admitted sadly. "Died a couple of years back. It's just him now."

  "How sad," I whispered.

  "What I think he needs," Randy went on. "Is a good girl, like you. Not the likes of that Amy Smith girl. Don't like her one bit, I tell you, never did."

  This cheered me up a little, and he seemed to notice, grinning at me again.

  "You're goin' to be just fine, darlin'," he told me with a kind smile. "I promise you that."

  Oh God, how I wanted to believe him...

  5

  Beau

  I woke up when the sun was already high in the sky, the room unbearably hot and just as unbearably empty as I pulled myself out of bed. I felt around for her between the sheets, but she was gone. I noticed her pile of stuff on the floor, grinning to myself because I knew she hadn't left yet.

  I'd had the best night's sleep I'd had in months, and Winnie was first and foremost on my mind. I'd never expected to find a girl like her, and even less so in a fuckin' strip club. But she was somethin' else, sexy but sweet, innocent and timid but managing to drive me wild with nothing but a smile and a look that told me she'd do it all for me. I'd fallen head over heels the previous night, fallen for her hard.

  As I got up, I got a strange feeling, an ache in my chest I couldn't quite explain until I walked downstairs into my kitchen, finding the last person I wanted to see sitting comfortably on my counter, eating my fuckin' apple.

  "What are you doing here?" I barked at Amy.

  "Taking out the trash," she replied sweetly, jumping off the counter and throwing away the apple core. "Good to see you're finally up. Been waiting for you for fucking ages."

  "Amy," I said, struggling to keep my voice level with hers. "You're not supposed to be here. We've been broken up for two months now."

  "You and I both know that's temporary," she purred, coming toward me and wrapping her long arms around my neck. "We're meant to be together, Beau, and we both know it."

  "That couldn't be farther away from the truth," I growled at her, prying her hands off me and gently letting go. "Look, Amy, I know we have a history. It's been hard on me too, the breakup. But I'm ready to move on, and you should be too. You can't keep trying to convince yourself it's all going to work out, because it's not."

  "Why not?" she pouted at me, crossing her arms defensively in front of her body. "You know as well as I do that we're meant to be together."

  I sighed heavily, rubbing my temples. This was partly my fault, of course, because we'd been together for five miserable years before I finally decided to pull the plug on our already doomed relationship. The fact of the matter was, Amy and I weren't meant to be together. We fought like dogs, didn't see eye to eye on anything, and barely had sex - or even kissed - by the end of our disaster of a relationship.

  "Amy," I groaned. "Please, go. You can't just show up here."

  "I still do your accounting," she argued, and I looked up at her.

  Yes, she still did my accounting and a bit of marketing on the side, but that didn't give her the right to just show up in my house every time she wanted to. I'd only kept her on because I knew she needed the job, but she knew as well as I did I could have her replaced in days.

  "Amy, get out," I told her firmly. "I don't want you here. We're over. You have no business staying unless this is something to do with the ranch."

  She pursed her lips and glared at me, obviously not pleased with what I was saying.

  "I suppose you've moved on, then?" she smirked at me.

  I didn't want to upset her, but I also didn't like her attitude one bit.

  "Actually, I have," I told her gently. "I met somebody."

  "Did you?" she looked at me with eyes filled with venom and grinned wickedly. "Is it the girl I ran into this morning?"

  "What?" I looked at her, my eyes narrowing as I took a step forward. "What did you say to her?"

  She didn't move, staring at me indifferently and shrugging as if it meant nothing in the world.

  "Didn't have to say anything," she said in that fake sweet voice of hers. "She didn't want to listen. Was in too big of a rush to get the hell out of here, I suppose."

  "She left?" I ground out, and she gave me an innocent look.

  "She did indeed, even had the audacity to ask me to call her a cab," she rolled her eyes. "And then she was gone faster than I could say goodbye."

  "She left all her stuff," I muttered. "She wouldn't just leave like that."

  "Well, she did," Amy replied primly. "And now I suppose you want me to leave as well, even though I made all of this while I was waiting for your lazy ass to get up..."

  She motioned toward the counter, and I noticed it was full of plates laden with pancakes and different toppings.

  "Amy," I said gently. "While that's very sweet of you, you have no right to barge into my kitchen and do this shit. Do you know where she went?"

  "We're still on this?" she rolled her eyes. "I don't have a fuckin' clue, but you can ask Randy, I suppose."

  My eyes narrowed. She knew as well as I did Randy and I weren't exactly on speaking terms.

  "Well, please don't be here when I get back," I told her harshly. "You can take the pancakes."

  I pulled a jacket off the chair and slung it over my shoulders.

  "Where are you going?" she whined.

  "What do you think?" I grunted back. "I'm going to find my girl."

  I got into my truck as fast as I possibly could, driving faster than I should have to get on the highway. I noticed I had several missed calls from Malcolm, and called him on hands-free as I kept driving. He answered right away.

  "Man, where have you been?" he asked.

  "Busy," I ground out through gritted teeth. "Amy's making my life miserable as usual."

  "Where's the new girl?" he asked me. "I heard my dad took her back to the club this morning."

&n
bsp; I sighed heavily, not wanting to talk about his father.

  Since my argument with Randy, I'd grown apart with Malcolm as well. We used to be very close as children, spending every waking moment together. It didn't matter that my family owned the ranch, and Randy worked for us. We were best friends, and our parents were colleagues as well.

  But when my parents died, Randy had been the one to deliver the news. And a year later, he'd been the one to call me out on my shit.

  I'd spent a year drinking and sleeping around after they'd gone, letting the ranch go to shit. What used to be a thriving piece of land and a tourist attraction quickly fell off the map and entered the realm of forgotten things. But I didn't appreciate Randy telling me what a mess I was, and I blew up on him when he told me I needed to get serious. I said some nasty things, and he listened to them all, finally telling me he wouldn't be working for me anymore, not with that attitude. That was when I took on Amy and got serious about my property and life. But still, the damage had been done, and I worried it was too late to rebuild the broken bridges... not just with the ranch, but with Randy as well. Having lived off my parents' savings with the ranch barely making a buck, I was starting to worry, but I was too stubborn to find the old man who'd practically raised me. I didn't want him telling me all the mistakes I'd made, and I was too fuckin' set in my ways to apologize to him.

  I knew Randy had started a cab service in town - one that didn't have too many customers, but it was the only one in our region, so he got some work at least. And I desperately wanted to know where he'd taken Winnie, but I was too proud to call him up after all that time and ask.

  Randy never approved of me being with Amy, either, and I was surprised he'd even taken her call to take my girl back into town.

  "She left," I finally growled out. "Asked Amy to get her a ride and take her somewhere, fuck knows where."

  "I know where," Malcolm said.

  "Tell me," I demanded. "I need to know."

  "Calm down," he said. "It's just back to the club. Apparently, somebody she knows works there."

  My mind went to the bouncer right away. Surely it was him, the one who'd looked at her with that possessive look in his eyes.