Buck

Chapter 5

For the next two weeks,D-Day found himself tangled up with Helen almost every night. They didn’t speak about anything regarding each other. That would have been counterproductive and futile. This was time out of time and they both knew it. Even as he felt he was betraying Buck’s trust and that of his family, he couldn’t seem to help himself. He’d never met anyone like Helen, and his heart tightened. He didn’t think he would ever again. It wasn’t just that the sex was so fucking good, but she meshed with him on an intuitive level. Which, if he was being honest, scared the crap out of him.

When he entered the kitchen, everyone was gone except Buck’s sixteen-year-old sister. “Where is everyone?” There was an open box of donuts on the counter, almost empty. It looked like it had been a hurried breakfast. He grabbed one and bit into it.

“All down to the arena, even Mom and Dad.” Daisy finished off her OJ and wiped her mouth. She slid off the bar stool and started for the back door.

“Including Buck?”

“Yep,” she called over her shoulder. She reached for her coat and shrugged into it, then set a cute knit hat on her head, one with a pompom on top, snuggling it over her ears.

He followed her munching on the donut. “Why is that?”

She looked up from stamping her feet into a pair of snow boots. “Oh, you don’t know?” She grinned. “Helen is going to put half a dozen barrel racers through their paces for a buyer, and mister, you don’t want to miss my sister doing that.”

“I don’t?” He polished off the donut.

“No, sir, you don’t.” Grabbing gloves out of her pocket, she turned to look at him, and he grabbed his own coat and the knit hat, pulling on his boots.

He smiled at her confidence. “Well, Miss Daisy, lead the way.”

She eagerly pushed through the door and the storm door, and they started at a brisk walk toward the arena. D-Day saw the pricey six-horse trailer and a matching dual-wheeled truck, both midnight blue. On the side was painted in white: LoneTree Ranch, and beneath it, Medicine Bow.

“That’s the buyer, Jack Mooney. He’s a regular, purchasing our cutters for his ranch hands and barrel racers. He has a training camp.”

“Looks like he’s doing well.”

“He’s one of the richest guys around here.” She picked up her pace and he followed. They entered the arena and Buck, and his family were standing at the arena wall. He gestured D-Day over, and he couldn’t help the shot of guilt to his gut.

“’Bout time you got here.”

He met Buck’s eyes briefly then looked out to the arena. “No one told me Helen was barrel racing, not even her.”

Buck chuckled. “We probably all thought someone told you. Typical.”

Resting his forearms on top of the wall, he stared at nothing, noting the barrels set up at intervals.

“She could have really cleaned up on the circuit, and at the very least worked for Mr. Mooney, but she chose to go to nursing school,” Daisy said, her eyes shining, obviously full of sister worship for Helen. “Here she comes,” she whispered.

Experiencing a sudden sharpening of awareness, D-Day watched as Helen rode into the arena in the saddle of a dappled gray horse, everything slamming to a dead stop when the horse and rider moved from the shadows into the light. Her long-sleeved white western shirt, piped in black, was a stunning contrast to the black suede chaps. D-Day watched was intrigued as hell. Black and white. Grace and elegance. Skill and horsemanship. But it wasn’t the grace and elegance stamped into every line of her body that intrigued him, it was the sensuality he saw in her light, light hands—how she handled the horse with the slightest touch—that stirred something inside him he had never felt before. Feeling as if something had just slammed into his chest, he riveted his gaze on her, his pulse suddenly heavy. She was a woman right out of his fantasies.

He watched her legs, watched the barely discernible movements that cued the horse—the touch of a spur, the smallest shift of her calf, the tightening of her thighs—and the gray responded. D-Day had to look away, his own body responding.

Keeping his thoughts in check and his eyes averted, he waited for the sensations to pass. When she reached the far side of the ring, his jaw tightened as the horse exploded into action. She took the mare around the barrels with such finesse, such speed, that her family and the guest spectators and buyers went crazy, and D-Day clenched his jaw tighter, focusing solely on her as she put the horse through the challenging pattern. She did that six times with six different horses, all of it flawless and so fast it was mind-bending.

When she reined in the last racer, a white with caramel patches, and came trotting over, the conversation was brisk, and she gave D-Day a smile that warmed him all the way to his toes. She was something.

He automatically smiled back, but folded his arms across his chest, his gut tightening with a feeling that made him want to bust something. The whole party moved out to the drive where the rig was parked. He watched them all go, then he clenched his jaw, focused on keeping it together. Loneliness rolled in on him like fog, along with the half-forgotten memories pulling at him. The agony, the humiliation, and the pain. He blocked the images and memories from taking shape in his mind, knowing he was going to be in bad shape if he didn’t.

He had enough heartache.

The only way to get himself out of this was to head back to NBC. Now. Tonight, if he could catch a flight. He would make up an excuse, put his brain in neutral and his fantasies in park. Helen was out of his reach, and he was out of hers.

* * *

To spareanyone within growling distance of Buck’s foul mood, he decided he’d had enough of sitting on his rump. So, after Helen’s stellar performance, he took himself down to the lower barn to take care of a bunch of small repairs that wouldn’t tax his side too much. It was feeling much better but still hurt if he twisted the wrong way too fast, the skin now showing yellow-brown bruises as the blood was absorbed back into his body.

He had just finished replacing all the belts on the oat crusher and was fixing to check out a gash on one stallion’s hind leg when D-Day came into the barn, the snow and cold swirling in around him as he came through the side door. He slammed the door behind him and stomped the snow off his feet, his knit hat yanked down on his head. He looked cold and slightly harried.

“Damn cold out there,” he said. “Cole wanted me to remind you to keep an eye on the water troughs, and that the heat is turned up.”

Buck nodded, securing the stallion to the heavy metal ring outside the stall, then crouched down with a wince to start unwinding the wrap on the horse’s back leg.

Blackjack was one of their main stud horses, and they kept the majority of them in this barn. One of the other horses must have caught him.

“Is it bad?” D-Day asked.

Buck tested the area around the wound for swelling, then reached for the jar of ointment and unscrewed the lid. “Looks good. We’re lucky he won’t be permanently damaged. We would probably lose stud fees.” Buck applied the ointment to a dressing and stretched it over the nearly healed gash, then began wrapping the leg. D-Day continued to watch him, and Buck glanced up at him, his attention sharpening when he saw the somber, preoccupied expression on his teammate’s face. Buck stared at him for a moment, then went back to wrapping the stud’s leg. “Something up, Drew?” he asked quietly.

D-Day shot him a startled look, then frowned and glanced down, his expression solemn. “I’ve been remiss in visiting my family. I should take some time and go to Bedford, so I’m leaving tonight.”

Buck finished the final wrap and pressed the Velcro in place. “I thought you were going to stay longer,” he said, his tone deliberately offhand.

D-day rose abruptly. “I wish I could, but I got an earful from my mom,” he said in a rush.

Buck studied him for a moment, then replaced the lid on the jar of ointment and set it in the veterinary kit. He wasn’t sure why D-Day was lying to him, but it really was none of his business. He was sure this had something to do with his sister, and he got suddenly angry with her. It wasn’t fair to his brother, putting him in such a position. But then he never really told Helen the SEAL code, so maybe he had to cut her some slack.

D-Day heaved a heavy sigh. “So, I’ll see you back at NBC. ’Kay?”

“Sure,” Buck said, picking up the kit and rising, keeping his tone even. “My family is going to be mighty disappointed, D, but of course, you have to make time for your own family.”

D-Day nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. Removing the gloves out of his pocket, he pulled them on. “Take it easy, Buck. I know you’re frustrated, but healing is what’s important. Once we get back out there, we all need to be in ship shape.”

Buck knew D-Day was right. He decided to pack it in. “I’ll walk you up to the house.”

He insisted on taking D-Day to the airport, even though he protested. His family was disappointed and told him he was welcome back anytime. His teammate looked almost embarrassed by the amount of affection from everyone. But he shouldn’t be. The guy pulled his weight, took all the ribbing from his brothers, listened to all his dad’s stories, helped Daisy with her math homework, made pies with his mom, and never complained.

When he went to say goodbye to his sister Helen, her gaze swung sharply to D-Day’s, the light in the kitchen washing the color out of her face. She stared at him for a moment, then looked away, suddenly intent on her hands. She swallowed hard, her eyes dark and haunted. The way they stood made Buck more than aware of the tension in them. D-Day wanted to hug her, and she felt the same, but he was holding back.

“How about we drink our hot chocolate by the fire,” he suggested as everyone filed out, giving them some privacy.

When Buck got home, everyone was asleep. He wanted to talk to Helen. Wanted to bend her ear about messing with D-Day. So, he was raring to go when he got up the next morning. When he made it to the kitchen, he asked his mom. “Where’s Helen?”

“Oh, she’s gone. Had to get back to DWB. Said it was urgent.”

He pulled out his phone and texted her. You can run, but you can’t hide.

She texted back a raspberry. Damn her. He texted her again. Stay safe. Her response was short. You, too.

Daisy bounced into the kitchen. “Buck, when you go back to San Diego, can you do me a major big-brother fav?”

“It’ll be in about a month.”

“Yeah, I know.” She batted her big blue eyes at him, and he caved.

“Of course, anything for you, buckaroo.”

“There’s this designer to die for, Annabelle Windsor. She is up-and-coming and doesn’t have her online shop set up yet. You can only buy the dress I want for the prom from her San Diego store.” She pulled out her phone and tapped it a couple of times. “This is it.”

He took the phone and had to sigh. First off, his sister was growing up so fast, and secondly, she was going to knock her date, Jack Halloran’s. socks off with that dress. It was midnight blue, beaded with gold thread running throughout the skirt, the shoulders tied with gold and blue stars on the ends, with more stars sewn on the bodice. Daisy was just as gorgeous as his sister Helen, both of them taking after their mom. Helen was extremely popular in high school.

“This prom is going to be chaperoned, right?” He gave her a narrow-eyed look.

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Keep your shotgun in the rack.”

Her mom stifled a giggle.

“Are you getting sassy with the guy who’s going to pick this up for you?”

She hopped off the stool and wrapped her arms around his waist. “No, I would never do that,” she said, looking up at him with an innocent smile.

“I’ll get you the darn dress, ladybug.”

* * *

Maritza tookout the cocktail dresses for the third time. She gave her youngest sister, Carmen, a narrow-eyed glance.

Carmen huffed. “You’re going to need some party dresses. Come on, Zazu, have some fun for once in your life.” She was sprawled across Maritza’s huge queen bed, her pretty head propped up on her hand. Her youngest sister was a stunning beauty. Her thick, black hair was in an inky pool against the quilt her grandmother had made for Maritza.

“I’m going to be working and traveling through three states. I won’t have any time for parties or fun.” Carmen rolled her eyes and huffed again. “Don’t you have a big party coming up for graduation?” Unlike US schools, eleventh grade was the end of high school and instead of a senior prom, Costa Rica had a graduation dance. Carmen was heading to college in the fall to study hospitality and work in their Hotel Maravilla Natural when she graduated. “Shouldn’t you be focused on your Baile de graduación and off my?—”

“Non-existent life, love life?” Her sister’s eyes sparkled, but that was the most endearing thing about her little sister. She cared so much more about other people. It would be like her to put her needs before others. Typical in this family, and Maritza wasn’t sure where that almost bitter thought came from. She pushed it away. She was dedicated to everything that would promote and expand their family and their brand. “Don’t you believe in smelling the roses? You’re young, vibrant, and gorgeous. It couldn’t hurt to indulge yourself just a little, Za.”

Maritza couldn’t help but think of Buck. In fact, the man had been on her mind quite a bit, especially now that she was going to San Diego. She had to admit she looked up and read about SEALs and discovered there was a whole contingent of them on Naval Base Coronado, but she didn’t have a clue on how to get in touch with him, or if he was even going to be on the West Coast. He could very well be deployed or on some training mission. It had been almost two months since she’d seen him, but the details of his face were burned into her brain. She had dreams about kissing that mouth and touching every part of him. But these were just fantasies. There simply was no way to contact him.

She picked up the cocktail dresses, and Carmen’s face brightened. When she put them in her bag, Carmen smiled. “Okay, now we’re talking.” She gave her sister an innocent, little girl look. “Now that you’ve mentioned the dance. There is a dress I’m dying to have, but it’s exclusively available only at the shop.” Her voice rose and she squealed, “Annabelle Windsor! She’s to die for. How about you take time out of your busy schedule, which I would be so grateful to you, and maybe could promise to do your laundry for a whole month if you’d go there and pick it up for me.”

Injected with her sister’s enthusiasm and excitement, Maritza laughed softly. “On one condition.”

“Laundry for two months?”

She laughed again. “No, show me the dress!”

Carmen sat up and grabbed her phone. “This is it. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Maritza studied the black velvet-edged copper bodice and the long-flowered tulle skirt. It was breathtaking. “Oh, Carmen, it’s stunning. You’ll look like a fairy princess in it.”

Carmen sighed softly, “That is exactly how I’ll feel in it.” She got up on her knees and threw her arms around Maritza’s neck. “You’re the best. I love you.”

Maritza’s heart contracted, and she hard-hugged Carmen back. “Love you, too,” she whispered.

After her sister left, she zipped up her suitcases and grabbed her travel bag with all her money and credit cards, her American and Costa Rican passports, driver’s licenses, and her essentials. She had an almost two-hour trip to get to the Liberia airport where she’d take the company jet to San Diego for her first meeting.

Those cocktail dresses were probably going to sit in her suitcase. But she didn’t have to tell Carmen that.

* * *

Buck downedthe last of the coffee in his mug and set it in the sink. He’d only made it back to his Imperial Beach townhouse last night, three days before his medical leave was over. He was finally feeling up to par with all the bruising gone and the injury to his bones and soft tissue healed. He had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon to get the paperwork completed, and he was impatient to get back into it.

He lived on a quiet street in an eighteen hundred square foot, three-bedroom, two-and-half-bath unit with a roomy two-car garage and a roof ocean-view patio, just a block from the beach. He’d been nineteen when he enlisted after two full years of running on the rodeo and roping circuits, while working full-time for his dad. So, when he broke the news to his parents, who had always been supportive of his goals and aspirations, he knew in his gut that he would be in San Diego for his tenure as a SEAL. There was no doubt in his mind. Failure wasn’t an option. He’d amassed quite a bit of money from the circuit and had banked most of his salary as he had no expenses from living on the ranch, and with his enlistment and graduation bonuses, he decided that buying a house in the Imperial Beach area would be a great investment, even if he were to move back to Wyoming. He floated the idea past his parents who agreed to pony up whatever his investment didn’t cover, promising to pay them back. When they found this townhouse, the real estate market was tanking, and they got it undervalue with a sweet VA loan. But now, a block from the beach, he was sitting on some pricey real estate. He was about five to fifteen minutes from the base, depending on traffic. All and all an ideal and idyllic location.

Since he’d had to live on base early in his SEAL career and moved around for training purposes, he’d rented the house out until he got promoted to an E5 a year after BUD/S, SQT training, and his required schools. He grabbed up the brown Stetson on the counter and settled it on his head.

He left through the back sliding door and got into his truck. He’d promised Daisy the minute he got back, and the new Windsor store was open, he would pick up the dress she’d ordered, and he insisted on paying for it. He was also going to surprise her with shoes that complimented the pretty star dress she’d picked out. He’d gotten the size from his mom.

Annabelle Winsor was a young, rising-star designer who had been extremely successful on one of those TV fashion shows for designers, and she was just setting up everything. Windsor was located not far from downtown in the Fashion Valley Mall and had easy parking. Even though this wasn’t exactly in his comfort zone, he didn’t shy away from doing his homework.

But there was nothing easy about getting inside the place. There was a throng of teenage girls and their mothers crowding the dressing room, flocking at the racks, picking and squealing over the accessories. He’d never seen so much excitement and estrogen in one place. Okay, this was turning into Operation Star Dress, and if he had to go into warrior mode, he would.

He was the only man in there and he waded through the women like Moses parting the Red Sea. When he reached the counter, he couldn’t figure out the line situation. It was so chaotic.

One of the harried clerks focused on him, and she smiled brightly. He would be glad for the female attention and the good looks God gave him if it would get him out of there faster.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up an order for my sister, Daisy Buckard.”

She smiled again. “I’m glad it’s for your sister.”

He played the game, even though the clerk couldn’t be more than twenty-two. He smiled his best flirty smile. She took a hard breath and sighed.

Suddenly, behind him he heard a woman screech, then there were sounds of a battle and the crowd pushed and shoved trying to get away from the combatants. He turned to see two moms going at it. Shocked they were setting such a terrible example for their daughters, he once again waded into madness.

He got between them and got punched and kicked for his troubles. One woman was clutching a dress to her, while the other one tried to pry her hands loose.

“I saw it first, you thief!” the woman clutching the dress screamed, elbowing him in the gut right where he’d been injured, but other than a quick, glancing blow, it didn’t faze him.

“Liar. My daughter had already picked it up before you even got here. You snatched it from her hands like a jerk!”

Another scream grated down Buck’s spine.

“Ladies!” He roared at the top of his lungs and every single woman in there, including them, stopped talking, moving, or fighting.

That’s when he saw her. The Costa Rican beauty whose family had saved them all. A grin split his face. What were the odds? He wasn’t sure about that, but what he was sure about was that she was more beautiful than he remembered now that he didn’t have to struggle to focus through a mild head injury, dehydration, and excruciating pain.

* * *

For a moment,Mari thought she was imagining Buck as a rush of adrenaline hit her squarely in the chest. This couldn’t be him in a teenage nightmare, but there was no mistaking his height, his build, and that gorgeous face. The way he had taken control of the battling women had every single female in the store riveted on him. He stood there, a man who was confident and take-charge, an aura of command in every line of his big body. It was a definite thrill to see him fully upright, healthy, and healed, allowing her to assess everything that made Sam Buckard stunning.

“That lady is telling the truth,” Mari said, pointing at the woman without the dress. “I saw everything.”

“If I could help?” the clerk from the register said. “We have more of those dresses in the back. I just haven’t had a moment to put them out. I’m sure we can accommodate you both.” She shot Buck a more than grateful smile that made Mari want to get into her own catfight.

He nodded as he murmured something to each woman, then started toward her, his eyes for her only. That gave her gut another sizzling shot of adrenaline.

The man literally radiated an aura of strength and masculinity. He was powerfully built with heavily muscled shoulders, but beneath his unquestionable virility, beneath his physical toughness, there was something…some indefinable quality that drew her.

He was dressed for the West with his faded blue jeans that hugged him in all the really good places, a dark blue plaid western-style shirt that fit him like a second skin, the cuffs rolled up revealing his sexy forearms. Looped through his jeans was an engraved silver buckle, and on his feet, he wore a pair of scuffed cowboy boots. The hat on his head made her pulse stutter, fueling every fantasy any woman ever had about a rugged cowboy.

His gaze never left hers as he progressed through the silent crowd, all of them feeling everything she was feeling about him. But even as that electric undercurrent of sexual chemistry zapped her, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs, she experienced a rush of heat…everywhere.

The universe was trying to tell her something here. Of all the places in San Diego she could have run into him, this was exactly the last she would have ever guessed.

“Well, hell. Maritza Eleana Solano Navarro.”

“Do you believe in fate, Sam Buckard?”

“I’m beginning to get a feeling about that, darlin’,” he said. She looked at him, into green eyes so penetrating, she lost her thoughts. Maybe it was time for her to have some fun, and Buck was exactly the man she had been hoping to find.