Rodeo: A Bad Boy Romance (FMX Bros Book 2) (16 page)

“If that internship is still on, I would like to come and work on those artifacts.” I looked down at the ground to hide the fact that I was completely heartbroken. “My plans have changed, and I won’t be going home after all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that but it works out great for me.” He reached for his briefcase. “I’ll write you directions. The house is rather remote, but you should have no trouble finding it. You can stay in the guest bedroom.”

“I’ll be out of your way by Christmas. I don’t want to intrude on any family—”

“August,” he looked up from the directions he was writing, and a softened, more serious expression crossed his face, “since my wife died of cancer eight years ago, we really haven’t celebrated much. She was really into it.” He smiled wistfully. “The whole house would be decorated. She’d even put little snowmen shaped soaps in the bathrooms.” He looked up at me. “You can stay as long as you like. It will probably only be Ethan and me. I’m never quite sure what my son, Dalton, is up to, and I haven’t heard from him lately.” There was sadness in his tone when he spoke about him. I knew little about his other son. He handed me the paper. “I’m heading out there now, but I know you’re not packed.” He leaned forward and looked up through the windshield. “It’ll be dark soon so why don’t you head out in the morning.” The warm smile that had won me over on the first day of his class reappeared. “I don’t like to brag, but I’m a magician with a waffle iron so come early for breakfast.”

I tucked the directions into my pocket where my phone was still buzzing like an angry swarm of bees. Professor North glanced pointedly at my vibrating pocket. “It sounds urgent.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s just my mom. I’ll see you in the morning and thanks again.”

“No, August, thank you. I was a bit worried about leaving the task to Ethan. He gets bored easily.”

“Well then, I’m the girl for the job.”

Chapter 2

A chill in the room woke me from a restless sleep. The weak gray light of dawn was slowly morphing into pink sunshine as I searched for my fuzzy slippers and got out of bed. I stepped up to the window and looked out. With the empty, stately buildings overlooking the deserted sidewalks and manicured grounds, the campus looked like an Ivy League ghost town. Aside from several maintenance workers trimming back the overgrown branches of a tree, the place was devoid of all signs of life.

In a matter of moments, my plans for winter break had changed completely, and I needed to rethink my clothing needs. Instead of a mild winter break in California where the odds of wearing shorts and sandals on Christmas Day were pretty good, I needed to shift back to warm sweaters, scarves, and lots of heavy socks.

I unpacked my giant duffle, a purchase I’d made after enduring incessant teasing from Rylie over my designer suitcases. I walked over to my dresser where I’d stacked my t-shirts and dresses and the disappointment of my situation struck me. I picked up my cell phone and turned it on. I’d turned it off to avoid my mom’s relentless calling. The second service had returned, the phone rang. I glanced at the number. It seemed my mom had called in her strongest ally— my dad. I would never consider myself to be a daddy’s girl, but I’d grown up with three brothers and so my dad had, of course, treated me differently. I took a deep breath to strengthen my resolve and answered.

“Hey, Dad.”

“How’s my baby girl doing?”

“I think you know.”

“Now Auggie, you know how much your mom has been looking forward to you coming home for the holidays.”

“I looked forward to coming home . . . to
our
home. She promised that we could stay home and cook and bake together. I’m not going to France, Dad.”

“You can’t stay on campus alone. No one will be there. It won’t be so bad in France. You and I could try and get away for a few days and travel to Germany or Spain.” Just like Mom, Dad had the same rotten knack for making charming, intriguing promises that he knew he’d never keep. “Now pack up and get over to the airport.” My dad could switch from the endearing
how’s my baby girl
tone to the authoritative
August Ray Stonefield get your butt home now
tone in one breath. It was probably the reason he was so awesome in the business world, but it wasn’t terribly effective on me anymore.

“Sorry, Dad, not happening. Professor North has hired me to do some work cataloguing antiquities, so I’ll be spending the break at his house.”

“What are you talking about?” Now his more severe business tone crackled through the phone. “Who the hell is Professor North?”

“He’s one of my favorite teachers, and he has artifacts to classify. Frankly, I’m excited as heck. So, you guys have a good time, and we’ll talk soon.”

He chuckled. Just like my mom was not a hesitator, my dad was not a chuckler. “Enough of this nonsense, August. I’ll have Charles pick you up at the airport.” Both my parents were so eager to see me that Dad’s driver was picking me up in Los Angeles. Truthfully, I looked more forward to seeing Charles than either parent at this point, but I was going to stand my ground this time. It was something I’d started doing after I’d moved away to college, and it was well worth the tension it caused. After being under complete control of my parents and three older brothers, who’d always been overprotective and bossy, being on my own had brought a glorious sense of freedom.

“Dad, working with Professor North is a great opportunity, and I’m not going to miss out on it. I’ll travel home at the end of January for Mom’s birthday. Have a good time and tell everyone hello for me. And tell Mom not to worry.” A tiny sound came through the phone that I’m sure had to have been my dad’s jaw dropping open.

After a chilly stretch of silence he spoke. “Your mother is not going to be happy, and I’m disappointed too.” The problem was, I couldn’t tell if he was more disappointed about not seeing me for the holiday or that I’d blown off his command to come home. I was leaning toward the latter. His phone beeped with another call.

“Bye Dad. I’ll call you when I have time.”

Chapter 3

The farther I got from campus, the frostier and slicker the roads became. It wasn’t long before I was driving along a nearly empty two lane highway that took me to a higher elevation with every curve. As a California girl, it had taken me some time to get used to driving through a Northeast winter. The icy roads and blinding snow were always stressful. Fortunately, I’d been hardened some by the nightmarish tangle of freeways and traffic in Los Angeles. But the scenery here was much more enjoyable. Spindly, winter-worn trees covered in a crystal white flocking lined the highway. Except for the occasional cherry red barn or brick house, it felt as though I was driving through a black and white picture.

In my quest to make sure to pack well for winter weather, I’d forgotten my toothbrush. But I’d been well past town before I’d thought of it. I kept an eye out for a store of some kind. Even people who lived in the remote mountain areas needed amenities like toothbrushes.

My phone had not rung since my conversation with my dad, and I was rather surprised and almost a little insulted that none of my brothers had called to try their hand at persuading me to come home.

As thrilled as I was about the prospect of sorting through artifacts, I was more than a little nervous to be working with Ethan North. He was a grad student and therefore hung out in much different circles than me. I didn’t know much about him except that he was a major head turner, and he’d had a long, tumultuous relationship with a rich, beautiful girl named Veronica. The last rumor I’d heard was that she’d moved back to New York to marry someone more to her family’s liking. I assured myself that if he was anything like his wonderful, mild-mannered father, he’d be easy and pleasant to work with. And, I was fairly certain I could work productively without crumbling into a shy, giggling school girl.

The professor’s directions sat on the passenger seat, and I glanced down for a second to make sure I hadn’t missed any turns. As my eyes lifted, a tall figure popped up in front of the car. “Shit!” I pulled the wheel sharply to the left. My car spun around and careened into the bank of snow lining the road. In my haze of horror I convinced myself that I’d pissed off my mom and now I was going to pay for it by going to jail for manslaughter.

I opened the door and jumped out into the knee deep snow. I pressed my hand against my chest to keep my heart from jumping out. All I could see were two large feet and what appeared to be an artistically carved walking stick.

“Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead,” I muttered through sobs as I trudged quickly over the icy road to the person. “Please don’t be dead.” I rounded a mound of snow and my racing heart dropped into my stomach. A large man was lying face down in the snow. “No, no, no,” I cried. My fingers shook as I pulled out my phone. As my fingers flew to the key pad, the crunchy bed of snow shifted and the guy pushed up to his hands. His broad shoulders had left behind a massive snow angel imprint.

“I’m not dead so you can put away the phone,” he growled without looking back at me. He shook the flakes of snow out of his long black hair and pushed back to his knees.

Every inch of me still trembled with the shock of thinking I’d killed someone. I shuffled through the loose snow and grabbed hold of the duffle that had flown from his hands as I hit him. I carried it over to him. “Are you hurt? I’ve never hit anyone with a car before,” I said shakily.

He winced in pain as he pushed back to sit on his knees. “Then your record remains solid.” He lifted his face and stared up at me with mint green eyes that would have been cold and harsh in any other face. Instead, his unsettling gaze sent a warm shiver up my spine, and my parka suddenly felt a bit too warm. He looked at me for a long silent moment, which did nothing to help my unease. “You didn’t hit me. I managed to dive out of the way before you plowed into me.”

I cry of relief bubbled up from my chest. “Oh, thank God. Did you hurt yourself diving into the snow? You look like you’re in pain.”

“Yeah, I’m in pain. But it’s not from your crazy driving.” He glanced over at the walking stick that jutted out from a mound of slush. “Could you hand me that.”

I crunched through the ice and plucked out the walking stick. Someone had carved the intricate head of a dragon on the top, and it had been worn smooth by his hand.

I handed it down to him. “I’m really not a crazy driver. I just didn’t see you.”

He jammed the end of the stick into the half frozen ground and with more effort than someone his age should have needed, he pushed to his feet. I was tall for a girl, but he towered over me. He could not have been much older than his early twenties, and yet he needed the walking stick for support.

He stared down at me. “Yeah, I’m pretty easy to miss.”

“You’re right. I looked away just for a second, and when I turned back, you were there. I feel awful about the whole thing. You look really wet.” The front end of my car was wedged into the snow bank. “Can I give you a ride somewhere?” As stupid as it was to ask a complete stranger, and a very large one at that, to get into my car, guilt outweighed caution in this case.

He looked over at my car. “Thanks but I think I’ll take my chances on the road.”

The warmth in my face assured me that I felt properly embarrassed about the whole thing. “I’m really not a crazy driver,” I said lamely. “Well, if you’re all right then I’ll be off.”

He didn’t say another word as he watched me trudge back to the car. It started easily, and I sighed with relief as I backed out onto the road and took off. He was still watching me as I glanced up into my rear view mirror.

My enthusiasm for my new adventure had waned, and I was feeling sick from the whole incident. Fortunately, he hadn’t been hurt, and I would never have to see him again. I just needed to push the whole thing from my head.

I gripped the wheel harder than usual, and my eyes stayed fastened to the road. I was still completely shaken by the mishap, and I was completely convinced that my mom had somehow managed to send a big dose of bad karma my way because I’d refused to go to France.

As I turned onto the road that would eventually lead to the professor’s house, a wide, funky looking building with striped, snow flocked awnings and a shabby exterior of yellow paint and used brick loomed in the distance. The faded sign standing high in the parking lot said
Karl’s Emporium
. As I neared it, I could read the small print on the sign— good food, sundries, and an old-fashioned saloon. The only emporium I’d ever been to was the Candy Emporium at Disneyland, but I was fairly certain a store with sundries would carry a toothbrush. I pulled into the lot and parked. Some of my frayed nerves had smoothed, and I was starting to feel better again.

It was astoundingly crowded inside a store that seemed to be located in the middle of nowhere. There was an arrow pointing around a corner to the saloon. The lights were out, and I could only assume that the bar was not open for business yet. It was still quiet early, even for the most dedicated saloon goers.

A pretty girl wearing a uniform style waitress dress with the same stripes as the awnings waved from behind a diner counter. “Hey honey, are you here for breakfast? There’s a new batch of cinnamon rolls baking.”

I smiled. “Yes, I can smell them, and as much as I hate to pass up a freshly baked cinnamon roll, I’m expected for breakfast somewhere else. Do you have any toothbrushes?”

“You bet.” She pointed to the farthest corner of the building. “Try aisle seven next to the magazine rack.”

“Thanks.” I headed toward aisle seven and decided to stop and pick up a few magazines. The professor’s house was remote and with the amount of snow at this elevation, I could only assume that there would not be any cable. I wasn’t great about sleeping in strange places, and a few magazines would help me doze off.

I perused the somewhat limited selection for ten minutes and then headed down to the toothbrushes. As I pondered yet another decision, the door on the emporium opened and shut. A squeal of joy followed, and I was fairly certain that it had come from the waitress in stripes.

“Well, it’s about time you show up here, soldier,” the waitress exclaimed to whoever had just entered the store. “Jamie, come see who the storm blew in,” she yelled to someone. Curiosity got the best of me.

I peeked around the corner of the aisle just as a girl, who I could only assume was Jamie, came screaming out of the kitchen. She flew into the newly arrived customer’s arms, and as he grabbed hold of her, a large walking stick fell and bounced off the tile floor. I startled, not from the sound of it, but from the realization that I was going to have relive the embarrassment and face my
victim
again. My only hope was that
Jamie
would keep him occupied long enough that I could make a clean get away.

Both girls were fawning over him as if he were some kind of movie star. I scurried to the cash register at the end of the diner counter and a good twenty feet from where the two girls showered the guy with kisses, hugs and questions. I thought I might make it out unseen until I realized that, aside from a rather grizzly looking cook in the back, the two girls were the only ones running the place.

The gruff cook smacked the bell to let them know that food was up. Both girls responded with a final hug before dashing off to their work, leaving me in clear view of my giant snow angel. I felt a bit like a rabbit caught in a hunter’s scope as I smiled nervously with my toothbrush and magazines.

“I see you made it safely to the emporium.” He grabbed a diner stool for support and leaned down to pick up his walking stick.

“And I see you managed to avoid crazy women drivers for the rest of your trek.”

“Yep.” He limped over to the counter and climbed up on top of the stool. I held up my toothbrush so the girl in stripes could ring me up. Suddenly, getting out of Karl’s Emporium sounded like a good plan. I paid for my stuff. There was only one pathway out of the store, and it led right past the guy. I tucked my magazines under my arm, lowered my head, and scurried to the door. Without warning, his walking stick went across the narrow pathway and he blocked my progress.

I lifted my face and looked at him. His light green gaze flustered me, and I nearly dropped my magazines. He stared at me like he had on the road. “Hey, Sugarplum, try not to kill anyone out there.”

My face felt warm with shame. He lowered his stick, and I hurried out of Karl’s Emporium without looking back.