Ducking Ugly: a Menage Ugly Duckling Story (Stud Ranch Standalone) Page 6

  He glowered at her and she was almost sorry she asked. Still, she stood her ground. “What do you mean, fucking with you?”

  God, was he going to make her explain? She pursed her lips and looked at her feet. “Is this just some… joke? Or prank between you and him?” She jerked her head over his shoulder in Liam’s direction.

  Mack’s head whipped back and his jaw hardened. “Did he say it was? That son of a—”

  Calla winced and shook her head. “No. God.” She took a step back from him. “Forget about it.”

  She felt her face flaming and she turned to go. Mack put a hand on her arm to stop her, stepping close again. “Look, Calla. I’m interested in you. I think we could have some fun together.”

  Her mouth went dry as she looked at him, absolutely floored. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Well, isn’t that sorta the point? I wanna get to know you.” His grey eyes flashed. “And I know life’s too fucking short not to grab ahold of something good before it’s gone. And I think you and me could have something special.”

  Have some fun. Special. Her heart pounded wildly as she tried to clarify. “You mean like… sex?” she whispered.

  He burst out laughing. Several heads turned in their direction at the sound. Crap. She was making a scene. Calla Carter didn’t make scenes. She was about to get the hell out of there before her mortification reached truly epic proportions, but again Mack’s hand on her arm stopped her.

  Her jaw worked as she looked at the floor. She could really do with it opening up right now to swallow her. “I don’t like it when people laugh at me.”

  “Sorry gorgeous,” he said, his hand dropping to her hand where his thumb moved in little circles on her wrist. Oh wow, that felt nice. Really, really nice.

  “You just took me by surprise there. You’re so fucking direct.” He ran a hand through his hair and laughed again. “It’s refreshing.”

  Then he leaned down so that he was speaking right in her ear. She shivered at the warmth of his breath. “And I guess yeah, if I’m being honest I do mean sex.”

  “Can I take your plate, Cal?” Liam’s voice was short as he stepped up right beside them. He flashed a glare toward Mack before his eyes gentled.

  “Oh.” Calla blinked and handed over her plate of half-eaten waffles.

  “Not much of an appetite,” Liam said, his gaze on her like Mack wasn’t leaned over, his face still inches from hers. “I can understand that. I didn’t find those waffles very appetizing either.” His eyes flicked to Mack for just an instant.

  Mack scoffed. “Did you eat any of your eggs? No wonder. Pretty sure they would have put me off food all day long.”

  Liam’s head snapped toward Mack.

  Okay, as nice as it was to be squeezed in between their two big warm bodies, the tension between them was getting to be too much. She wasn’t interested in being the dog bone in some tug of war.

  “I think this is my cue to exit stage left. See you two later.” She patted Liam on the chest and touched Mack’s arm as she took her leave. Then she called, “Mel?” toward the end of the table where Mel was cleaning up after her boys.

  “What’s up?”

  “Is there space in your truck to ride with you?”

  Mel glanced at the two men beside Calla, a small frown crossing her face. “You bet.”

  “Great. I’ll go help get the trailers rigged.”

  Calla left the room without a glance back to either Mack or Liam.

  ***

  “You just let me know if any of the guys get out of hand, okay?” Mel said as she and Calla drove down the highway toward Denver. They were alone in the truck—Xavier and Liam were riding in another and Mack in the third. “I don’t know what’s up with Mack and Liam, but the last thing in the world I want you to feel is uncomfortable while you’re staying with us.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

  Mel glanced over at her from the driver’s seat. “I’m serious. I’ll kick their asses.”

  Calla couldn’t help grinning at the picture that put in her head. “I’d love to see that, actually.” She laughed. “But no, I’m fine. Believe me, I grew up around cowboys. I can do any ass-kicking I need to all on my own.”

  Mel smiled but it didn’t fully erase the line of concern in her forehead. “I don’t doubt that.”

  “So where are you from again?” Calla asked, changing the subject. “I think I heard Xavier mention once you were from New York.”

  Mel laughed and shook her head. “About a million years ago, it feels like. But yeah. That’s where I grew up.”

  “In the city?”

  Mel nodded. “Lived there all my life till I was twenty-six. Moving here was a bit of a…” she paused before another slow smile crossed her lips, “a bit of an adjustment, that was for sure.”

  “So how’d you find yourself in Hawthorne, Wyoming?” Calla asked, more than curious about the beautiful and obviously sophisticated woman beside her. Truth was, Calla had admired her from a far for a long time. Ever since news spread around town that Xavier Kent had got himself a wife, Calla had been as eager as anyone else to catch a glimpse of the woman.

  Xavier had been the talk of the town since he took over the old resort. A giant of a man like that, especially disfigured as he was, taking over one of the town’s biggest properties was bound to make waves. The fact that he’d gotten it out from underneath Ned Cunningham’s fingers was just a bonus for Calla. But the town gossips really hit the roof when they learned he had a woman out there in addition to all those horses, that he’d married her and even renamed his horse rescue after her.

  It all seemed so romantic. Something special in a town that was full of a whole lot of dull, hard living.

  “That’s a bit of a long story.” The way her eyebrows lifted, Calla could just bet.

  “I’ll take the CliffsNotes version.”

  Mel flashed her a smile before moving her attention back to the road. “Let’s just say…” her voice dropped off like she was thinking of the best way to simplify something complicated. “Xavier helped my family out when we were in a rough spot. In return, I came out to help him with the rescue.”

  “And then you fell in love?”

  Mel laughed. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly a smooth transition. We didn’t get along at first. There might have been a few days that I wanted to gouge his eyes out. But we got there in the end.”

  Calla felt her own eyebrow arch at this. “Now that sounds like a story.”

  Mel grinned. “No doubt. Some other time. What about you? You got someone special in your life?”

  For the umpteenth time that day, Calla felt her cheeks warm. She shook her head. “Hasn’t been much space in my life for that.”

  Mel’s face softened. “I was so sorry to hear about your dad.” She reached out and gave Calla’s arm a gentle squeeze. “How is he? He has Parkinson’s?”

  Calla swallowed and looked out the passenger window. Rolling hills covered in scrub brush whizzed by. “Huntington’s.”

  “I haven’t heard of that.”

  “It’s sort of like Parkinson’s,” Calla said, fidgeting with a fingernail. “He’s constantly got the shakes and is starting to get pretty forgetful.”

  “I’m so sorry, hon. I might not see my dad very often, but we were close. I can’t imagine.” Her eyes were full of sympathy when she glanced at Calla again.

  Calla swallowed and looked down at her hands. “Yeah, well. That’s life. What are you gonna do?”

  “Just keep going,” Mel murmured, like she’d had some experience with the punches life could throw. “One day after another.”

  Calla nodded. “Pretty much.”

  They didn’t say anything for a long while. Just drove in companionable silence and watched the landscape roll by.

  “So, Mack and Liam?” Calla asked, her mind always circling back to the two guys no matter how much she tried not to think about them. “What’s their deal?”

 
; Mel let out a huff and rolled her eyes. “Lord knows. They’ve been like fire and ice since they first met each other. It’s funny too, because as different as their backgrounds are, they actually remind me of each other.”

  “How?” Calla asked, more than interested. She pulled her foot up into her lap as she focused on Mel.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Mel waved a hand. “Nicholas and the twins are pretty mellow. Well,” she amended, “Reece more than Jeremiah. But Liam and Mack,” she shook her head. “They’re both passionate guys. You might not think it when you first meet Mack, he’s so shut down all the time.”

  Calla was surprised at that. “He hasn’t been shut down around me.” The total opposite, in fact. One of the things she liked about him was his bluntness. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.

  Mel looked at her, a smile curving her lips. “That’s the other thing. They’re both these alpha tough guys on the surface. But they’ve got gooey centers. I’ve seen it.” Then she sobered, her hands shifting on the wheel. “I don’t think things have been easy for either of them in their lives. Sometimes I think about the ranch as our own little island of misfit toys, you know?”

  “Well then I guess I’ll fit right in,” Calla joked.

  “Welcome to the club.”

  They were quiet again, just listening to the radio. Welcome to the club. Calla had felt like an outcast all her life, out of step with her classmates and peers. And that had been all right because she had her dad and the ranch.

  But what had all that self-sacrifice, putting everyone else’s needs over hers, ever gotten her?

  A big fat wad of nothing, that’s what. She was a twenty-four-year-old virgin. She’d never even been drunk. Couldn’t risk having a hangover when there was always so much work to be done the next day.

  Screw. That. She was done with living like a nun. She was going to have sex. A lot of sex.

  Live each day like it’s your last.

  Okay, universe. She was ready to listen. She was going to have sex, and get drunk, and she was going to learn what it meant to party.

  If Liam and Mack were being genuine in their interest, well, goddammit, she was going to take one of them up on their offer.

  It was time to let it all fly.

  “There’s a big party tonight after the mustang assignments are handed out, right?”

  Mel looked her way. “Sure. Most ranchers live so isolated that whenever we get together, everybody lets their hair down.”

  Calla knew Mel had been speaking metaphorically, but her hand still went to her own hair. She didn’t know what else to do with it other than the awkward ponytail. She looked at Mel, who’s long hair hung in attractive curly waves.

  “Do you think you could help me with… Maybe we could go shopping or something before the party? I’m not really good with, you know,” she waved down her body and the overalls that had become her uniform for, well…forever, “being a girl.”

  “Sure,” Mel said, looking her way with eyebrows raised in surprise. “But I think you do a fine job at being a girl. From what Xavier says, you singlehandedly held onto your dad’s ranch for years, not to mention you’re a talented horse trainer. If I ever have a daughter, I could only hope she’d be half so dedicated, hard-working, and loyal.”

  Calla looked down at her short grubby nails, embarrassed at Mel’s words. “Yeah, well, we lost the ranch. So what does that say about me?”

  Mel’s face softened. “That you’re the kind of person who never stops fighting and sticks it out until the end.”

  Calla gave a short laugh. She wasn’t sure that fighting her whole life for a losing cause meant much in the scheme of things. They were getting off track anyway. “So you’ll help me get ready tonight?”

  Mel gave her a long look but then just nodded before grinning and putting her attention back on the road. “Those boys aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em.”

  Chapter 7

  MACK

  “You’re gonna lose a few fingers with that one,” Mack said, leaning over the fence and watching Liam try to feed an apple to the mare he’d been assigned.

  Liam barely had a second to shoot a glare his way before yanking away when the spirited mare took a snap at him.

  “Whoa, girl!” Liam said, managing to dance out of the way just before the giant horse teeth chomped down on his hand.

  Mack didn’t hide his laugh. Well, this was going to be more fun than he’d thought.

  He’d only signed on in the first place because the day in day out grind of the ranch hadn’t been doing the trick anymore. He thought routine would be good. Like he could just lose himself in his work and not think about shit.

  Problem was, the opposite had happened. The more rote daily life on the ranch got, the more space his mind had to linger back in the past. He’d only done an eight-year stretch but sometimes he thought it might as well have been a life sentence. Part of him would always be stuck in that six by eight cell.

  The restlessness got worse and worse till he actually thought about moving on. It’d be years before he could do what needed getting done—the fucker who needed dead was still in lock up and would be for four more years.

  He thought about going to work on one of those ocean rigs. He’d heard it was grueling work that left a man so spent at the end of the day you’d fall asleep standing up.

  Then, before he could decide one way or the other, Xavier mentioned the mustang makeover competition. Said he hoped some of them would go for it.

  Liam immediately held up his hand. And Mack thought, what the hell, maybe it was just the distraction he needed. And if he could show up that privileged little Irish prick while doing it, all the better.

  They’d gotten into Denver a little after two o’clock and headed straight to the Bureau of Land Management facility.

  It had been organized chaos with the trainers from all around the country lining up to see what mustang they’d been assigned. Once given a mustang, the trainer then either loaded them up and headed home if they lived close. If they didn’t, then the horse stayed in the holding pens until the next morning.

  Xavier didn’t like them making the six-hour drive there and back home on the same day. It looked like most folks felt the same from all the horses still in the holding pens. The hundred days to train the mustangs started tomorrow.

  Mack had been assigned a mid-sized gelding. The horse was jumpy as any wild horse would be, but Mack felt good about him—he was certainly calmer than some of the ones he’d walked past. Including the she-devil Liam had landed.

  Liam glared at him after jumping over the fence of the pen. “Where’s yours?”

  “Torpedo’s over there.” He pointed to the small cluster of brown horses hovering near the hay trough. “With the white patch between his eyes. Sweetest little gelding you ever saw.”

  “Poor fecker doesn’t realize he got stuck with a gammy mog from the wrong side of the tracks,” Liam shot back. “Frankly I’m shocked anyone would put a living creature in the hands of an ex-con who knows more about carving shivs than taking care of horses.”

  Mack’s blood went hot. “You think you’re going to do any better? Growing up with that silver spoon up your ass?”

  “Better a silver spoon than all the cock I’m sure you took while you were a prison bitch.”

  Mack’s blood lit on fucking fire.

  “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Mack got toe to toe with the Irish bastard. “And if you’re so confident, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is? A hundred bucks says my mustang goes for more green than yours at auction.”

  Liam’s eyes flashed and he stepped into Mack’s chest, knocking him backward several steps. “You’re on, you ruddy bastard. But let’s make it interesting. One grand says my mustang kicks your’s arse come September.”

  “Does it make you feel like a big man being able to flash your cash around like that?” Mack leaned in. “Makes it a little obvious you’re overcompensating. But
hey, we can’t all be born stallions. I wouldn’t worry, though.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder. “I’m sure your bank account is enough to blind most women to whatever you may be…” He glanced down toward Liam’s belt. “Otherwise lacking.”

  Liam’s jaw went rigid and Mack let the edge of his lip curl up.

  “I don’t mind being a thousand bucks richer. You’ve got a deal.” He reached out for a shake and Liam gripped his hand with a bone-crushing force.

  Mack kept grinning and squeezed back just as hard. Liam thought he could intimidate him? He’d eaten little shits like this for dinner back in lock-up. He was an enforcer for one of the nastiest bastards on the inside. You didn’t get that far up the food-chain without being one ruthless motherfucker.

  Couldn’t deny who he was even if he didn’t like to think about that period in his life—he hadn’t been sure for a while he still had a soul after all the shit he’d done. Wasn’t till he started working with the horses at Xavier’s that he actually found a ray of hope he might still be more man than monster.

  Then he shut that shit down.

  He needed the monster for the plans he had.

  But this rich Mick wouldn’t know a thing about making the hard choices in life or what kind of man it took to come out the other side. Mack had known people like Liam before.

  When Mack had gotten a full ride scholarship to Harvard, he’d dated a couple rich kids who’d never known a hard day’s work in their life. Blaire was old money on her mom’s side and her dad was a famous hot-shot lawyer. When she paid attention to Mack, he thought it proved he wasn’t just white trash from Jersey. That he could move up in the world. Be more than the nothing he’d been born. He didn’t see it for what it was even after Blaire pulled him into those fucked up games with her boyfriend.

  Wasn’t until shit hit the fan and he got arrested that he realized the only reason they’d ever looked his way was because they got a thrill out of fucking who they considered to be ‘the help.’

  The same way Liam looked at Calla.

  Mack’s jaw hardened. “While we’re on the topic of shit you oughta know better than to step in,” Mack continued, voice hard, “back off Calla. She doesn’t need some worthless user like you fucking her over.”