Bronco threads his big fingers through mine. His giant hand engulfs my own as he leads me toward a group of men. If I had to guess, there are at least fifty of them lingering around waiting to be told what to do. A lot of them glance at Bronco's hand holding mine.
Is he trying to make a statement? I’d find it really sweet if I didn’t know this wasn’t only some temporary thing, and he doesn’t share. At least that seems to be the main point he is getting across to all these men. Bronco doesn’t need words to tell the world what he wants them to know.
I recognize a few of the workers from town, but I think most came in from the biggest city, about thirty minutes away. They’re all dressed in construction gear with a stack of tools behind them.
“This is Tracy. What she says goes.” A few of the guys I grew up with scrunch their faces in disbelief. I’m sure they're as confused as me. There’s no way they’re going to take orders from me. It’s laughable.
“Where’s Mr. Walker?” one of them calls out. I think his name is Andrew.
“I don’t give a shit where he is as long as it’s not here. You see him here, you let me know because it’s trespassing.” My attention focuses back on Bronco.
My father is really gone. That sounds a bit too good to be true, but he also sold me, so I’m useless to my father now. At the moment, I’m only going along with all this because my mind is spinning. Part of me is happy that I might never have to see my father again, but this other part, one that I don’t understand, hurts deep down inside.
“All right, boss man,” another one says. “Where do we start? We already cleared out the trailer.”
“My trailer?” I squeak. “Cleared out like…” I wait for someone to fill in this blank for me. When no one says anything, I turn and take off toward the place that has been my home for the past two years.
Bronco calls after me before he barks some other orders to the men. His steps are heavy behind me, and each one rumbles the ground, reminding me of a wild bull. He catches up to me as I turn the corner and freeze.
Fifty yards out, the spot where my trailer once stood is now bare. As is the rest of the parking lot. It’s been cleared of any litter or junk from the night before. There are still potholes and cracks in it, but concrete is damn expensive to repair.
I told my father if we started to charge for parking, we could pay to have it redone. I mean, half the time people party out here drinking their own beer. They could at least pay to park if they’re going to use it for a party zone and not drink our beer.
“Where’s my trailer?” I spin, putting my hands on my hips to square off with Bronco.
“It was a piece of shit, and it’s not going to be a hazard zone on the property.” His words are almost like a smack to the face, but I don’t flinch. In fact, I keep my face completely neutral. It’s my best talent really.
The one and only thing I’ve ever thought was really mine he called a hazard zone. It’s probably in some junkyard smashed to pieces. I guess that’s why he took so much of my stuff last night. That trailer is all I had. Sure, it was shitty and I didn’t love it, but it was mine. He doesn’t get that because it’s all too easy for him to buy what he wants.
“You don’t need it. You’re staying with me.” He steps closer, and my brain tells me to take a step back, but my boots keep me planted where I am.
“Cause I’m yours now?” I sing-song to annoy him.
“Damn straight.” It’s harder this time not to flinch, but I think I pull it off.
He’s right, though. I really have nowhere to go and not a penny to my name.
“Well, I better get to work then.” I step around him, and he calls after me.
“Sweet thing.”
“Don’t call me that at work,” I say over my shoulder as I head back the way I came. I don’t know why I think I can try and get away from him. The man is a bull, and I'm waving a red flag to piss him off and come charge me. A moment later, two hands grip my hips and spin me around to face him. “Damn, I didn’t even hear you move that time.”
“If I don’t want you to hear me coming, you won’t.” His fingers flex against my hips. The sensation goes straight between my thighs as I think about those same fingers inside of me hours ago. I bet he’s expecting something else rather than his fingers tonight.
Damn it all to hell because I want that too, but this is going to end up being one big mess. To him this is some fun because he’s used to the buckle bunnies. They know the drill, so it’s easy for him to have fun while he’s in town, but once he’s gone, there’s nothing left. Sometimes when the wranglers pass through again, they hit up the same girl, but most of the time, they grab someone new.
“Is there something you need? Because—”
“Something I need.” The words roll off his tongue and sound sexy as hell. “What did I say about asking men if they need something?” I roll my eyes because I don’t want Bronco to know how much I love the idea of him needing anything from me. Not want. Need. Two very different things, which he himself is making clear.
“I didn’t ask a man. I asked you.” He throws back his head, and a laugh booms from his chest. What the hell? Even his laugh is sexy, but I ignore it. “I’m supposed to give instructions to your men,” I remind him, trying to pull this away from sex.
“All right then, tell me what needs the most attention first?” He grows serious.
“The arena. There are a few pins down there I don’t trust and some spots in the dirt that need to be filled. Not only is an animal going to get hurt but a rider too.”
“All right. Then what?” He checks that right off my list like it will be done in a few hours.
“I’d really like a structural engineer out here.” I swallow, hating to admit this part, but if I’m truly in charge and want this done right, I need to lay some things out there. “Somehow the last never even came out here, but my father got him to write up a report saying we’re all clear. Most stuff is surface, but it would make me feel better if the structure itself was inspected.”
I’ve barely even finished my words and Bronco is pulling out his phone to make a call. I watch in awe as he issues orders, but it doesn’t come out condescending. It’s clear Bronco doesn’t only have a way with animals, but people too.
“Ms. Savino will be out here in a few hours with a couple of her people to have a poke around. What’s next?” I don’t know why his question irritates me so much, but it does.
“What’s next is you tell me where my damn trailer is!” I shout. I should be happy because he’s doing the things I ask, but I can’t help but push a little.
“I had your father’s office cleaned out already. You can work there.”
“That’s not the point.” I stomp my foot.
Bronco glances down to stare at my boot. Now I'm acting like a brat, and I know it. I’m not used to all the things going somewhat right, and it’s overwhelming. This ball of something I don’t understand forms inside of me, and it needs to get out.
“Are you fixin’ to throw a fit?”
“Maybe,” I huff.
“By all means, sweet thing. Let loose.” He smiles, folding his arms over his chest, ready for whatever show he thinks I’m about to put on.