Dusty Ropes and Rusty Spurs (Bucket List Buddies #4)

Prologue

Remy

“No, Tasha, absolutely not. I told you that at lunchtime.” Remy was trying to balance his phone between his shoulder and his ear while he was tweaking the books and a few tasteful figurines on the reception area bookshelf.

“He’s going to be here at two o’clock. No.

No, you’re not someone who wants to find a mate.

You can’t just drop in all casual like and think you can pretend to want to sign up.

We both know you’re not interested in finding your special someone.

He’ll scent a lie the moment you answer the first question.

I told you, he’s a shifter, the same as us.

So no, for the last time, absolutely not.

You are not to be here when Sven comes for his business meeting. ”

“You’re getting yourself into an awful tizzy if this is just a business meeting,” Tasha said drily.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t need me to be there to give you moral support?

I do appreciate that this is the big moment—the moment when you finally get to meet the boss that you have been lusting after for so long. ”

“It is not lust,” Remy insisted, giving up on the books. “I just have an appreciation for the way he looks and talks and acts and…” he trailed off.

He knew he was going to lose this argument and should never have started it.

“All you need to hear from my lips is that you absolutely can’t be here.

I’ve got to do this alone in my capacity as office manager and event organizer.

I’m going to be professional. I’m going to handle everything in a very professional and respectful manner.

He’s going to see me as a worthwhile employee who does incredible work, who has increased the profit on this business out of the stratosphere—”

“Maybe don’t play the profit side of your achievements quite so hard,” Tasha interrupted him.

“This branch of his business was brand new when you started working there. And… and… and… while I admit, you’re getting more people interested in the events and in finding their mates.

And yes, you have had three successes so far out of three events, that might have happened anyway and could have just been a coincidence. ”

“Tasha, how could you say that?” Remy was so shocked, he actually stopped flitting around and grabbed his phone so he could stare at the screen. Tasha couldn’t see him because they were on a regular call, but that was beside the point.

“I’ve done great things for this branch of his business. My personality brings people back time and time again. My excitement and the way I craft these different events are absolutely spot on, designed to hit social media in all the right places. This part of the business is going places.”

“Fair, I’ll agree on that,” Tasha placated.

“Even though… no, you know what, I’m not even going to say it.

I know there are a lot of people out there who desperately want to meet their fated mates, and that’s all very lovely and everything, but I’m more worried about you and how you’re going to get through the next couple of hours being in the same room as your boss. ”

“It’s going to be fine.” Remy had got himself a new outfit that was hidden in the break room, ready to put on just before Sven was due to arrive.

He’d polished his shoes, and he’d even remembered to bring some de-frizzer to put in his hair, again just before Sven turned up.

There was no point in him trying to put it in beforehand—the effects only seemed to last half an hour.

He had the accounts all updated, the office itself was looking spotless and yet still very welcoming. “I’ve got this,” he said to Tasha. “I have absolutely got this handled. And you never know… I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

“I know you do.” Tasha sighed. “And if things don’t work out the way you had hoped, if he doesn’t stand at that door or stride in—I imagine he would do that because he’s an alpha—and take one look at you and declare that you’re his everything, how are you to cope then?”

“I’m a grown-up,” Remy said firmly, although he knew Tasha’s negativity was just her way of looking out for him.

“I just want one sniff. I’ve told you this time and time again.

I just want to inhale his scent, and then I’ll know.

If he’s not mine, that’ll be great. It means I don’t have to pine over him anymore, like you think I’m doing.

“There’s another Bucket List Buddies event coming up next week, the “Cowboy For A Day” event.

Now come on, even you should probably sign up for that one.

I mean, who doesn’t want to see a whole stack of men acting like cowboys in their boots, Stetsons and sexy jeans?

” He waved his hand in front of his face.

“I could see me definitely doing some serious looking. You can tell a lot by the way a man wears his jeans.”

“Yes, well, you might be interested in the jean-clad crowd,” Tasha said, “but for me, I prefer someone in a suit. But there’s a thought. What do you think Sven would look like in jeans?”

“Oh, gods, don’t even ask.” Remy had to stop fanning himself—he was making his wrist ache, and it did nothing for his hot cheeks. “I’ve only seen him from the waist up, so I’ve got no idea. You know how it is when you’re doing video calls, and you’re sitting at a desk.”

“The waist up?” Tasha burst out laughing.

“He could have tiny, little pygmy legs. He could have little stick legs. Maybe he’s someone who only ever works on his upper body when he’s doing his workouts, because he knows that the rest of him isn’t going to be seen.

Maybe he’s got a flat butt and no package. ”

“He’s got lovely legs. I’ve seen pictures of him in the company newsletter.

” Remy wasn’t going to take that. Not even from his best friend.

“Besides, I’ll find out myself at two o’clock.

Which means I need to get off this call.

I’ve still got to get changed. Have I watered the plants?

That’s probably important. I should probably water the plants.

I need to make sure I’ve got coffee on. Just casual, like, not done for him specifically.

And I need to pop down to the bakery and grab some of their slices.

“Oh, gods! I don’t know which ones to get. But that’s fine. I’ll just get a selection. It’ll all be perfect. You just wait and see. He is going to be blown away not only by me, but also by the amazing way I run this business.”

“He won’t be impressed if you waste all the company’s profit on slices, cakes, and coffee,” Tasha said.

“But that’s fine, I’ll let you go. I’ll try calling you again tonight, and if nothing exciting has happened, then we’ll go out for a drink to commiserate and make jokes about his knobbly knees, okay? How does that sound?”

Remy was going to take Tasha’s concession for what it was—she really was a good friend. “Sounds good. I’ll update you later,” he said, quickly disconnecting the call. “Now, what do I need? What do I need? Water the plants.”

He did that first, taking care not to drop any water on the carpet.

Now, I also need… I need to get those slices. Remy had bought his prized coffee machine from home. It was one of his few indulgences, and he had hoped to show Sven that he wasn’t just good at advertising and paperwork.

Slapping a “back in 10 mins” note on the door, he hurried down the block to the nearest bakery.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have the time to go to Morty’s café and bakery, which by all accounts was absolutely incredible, but was also across town.

What they had in the bakery closest to his office was going to have to do.

Grabbing a selection of slices, biscuits, and a few savories too, in case Sven didn’t have a sweet tooth, Remy quickly paid with his own money—not company funds—and hurried back to the office.

By ten to two, he had everything organized. The place smelled incredible with the wonderful baked goods and the freshly brewed coffee. He hurried through to the little break room and got changed into fresh, clean clothes, all of them ironed immaculately.

Then he went and perched himself on the seat behind his desk, turning his chair one way and then the other, trying to determine what would be the best look when Sven walked in the door.

Hmm, I should look as though I’m working, he decided. Let him think he’s interrupting me doing something important.

He quickly woke up his screen and opened the company emails. Now was not the time to be checking his own.

Remy frowned when he saw that there was a message from Sven’s PA. She probably wants me to pass on a message for him, he thought, opening the email and quickly reading the brief message.

At first, the words made little sense, but Remy felt his heart slowly splinter as he read the words again.

…has been unavoidably detained… plane had to be rerouted…

The last line was the kicker. Mr. Booker will endeavor to see you at a later date, dependent on his busy schedule… apologies for any inconvenience.

“Damn him all to fucking hell!” Remy could barely see the screen for the tears that filled his eyes.

He quickly reached over and shut off his computer, not even caring that he hadn’t gone through the power-down process.

Then he undid his tie because everybody hates those things anyway, and then went around and picked up his platter of beautifully prepared savories and slices, holding them high in the air.

It was so tempting to drop the lot on the floor. No, not drop it, actually smash it, mash it, crumble everything into the floor. And then walk out, leaving the mess behind.

Come on, Remy, you’re smarter than that. Reframe the perspective. Think about the situation positively.

Remy appreciated his animal side’s support, even though he knew his animal side was keen on seeing Sven, too. I’ll try.

“This is disappointing.” He frowned. “These things happen.”

Yeah, Remy wasn’t in an understanding mindset, and just saying the words felt fake. Although… “Why waste all these pastries and savories when I paid for them with my money?”

Remy stalked around his desk, shoving the keyboard aside and putting the platter down. Then he went and made himself a coffee as well—the good stuff—because why the hell not.

He flipped the telephone to answer and leaned back in his chair, putting his feet on the desk. Hey, his shoes were clean. He’d even polished them. I’m gonna make a pig of myself, and then tonight I am gonna go out and get drunk, he decided.

Tasha would be up for something like that.

“And then in the morning I’m gonna come back in here, and I’m going to be the most professional and respectful employee that Mr. fucking Booker has ever fricking seen.

No more lusting for me. I’ll stick to cakes instead.

” He took a huge bite of a cream puff pastry and ignored the crumbs on his freshly pressed shirt.