June’s Bad Boy: Huck (Bad Boys of Mustang Mountain #6)

1. Huck

HUCK

My tires squealed as I pulled into the parking lot of the community center.

I shot a quick glance at the clock on my dash.

Tightness spread through my chest. I was late.

Didn’t matter that I’d stopped to help a woman stranded on the side of the road with a blown-out tire on my way into town.

All bids for construction of the Founders Festival site were supposed to be turned in by five, and it was already fifteen minutes past.

I grabbed the folder containing all of my paperwork and rushed through the front door. The meeting was already underway. My buddy Levi looked back as I entered the room. His mouth turned down at the edges and he shook his head. I’d fucked up… again.

Sliding into a chair at the back of the room, I hung my head.

Just once I wish I could catch a break. Seemed like bad luck followed me wherever I went.

At least it had been that way since I’d hightailed it out of Mustang Mountain all those years ago.

I was tired of barely getting by and figured coming back to town might put an end to my streak. Guess I was wrong.

I was about to duck out and head to Ace’s to drown my sorrows in a pitcher of beer when she spoke up.

“Next on the agenda, how many bids have we received for construction of the site?”

Levi had warned me Peyton was still in town, but we hadn’t crossed paths yet. Hearing her voice sent a chill straight through me. I looked up, and for a split second, our eyes met.

She quickly shifted her gaze to the notes in front of her like she was surprised to see me.

Couldn’t be half as shocked as I was. No one told me Peyton was in charge of planning the Founders Festival.

I stared at the back of Levi’s head, willing him to turn around.

If he’d known Peyton was in charge, why the hell would he have suggested I put in a bid? He knew about our history.

Mayor Nelson ruffled through some paperwork before responding. “Looks like we’ve only received two. Weren’t we expecting a third bid?”

I cleared my throat and stood. “Um, that would be mine, sir.”

“Bids were due by five o’clock this afternoon,” Peyton said, her tone professional but unrelenting.

“I’ve got it right here.” Either this was my lucky day or I was about to get my ass handed to me by the woman who’d ruined me. I moved down the center aisle, the folder in my hand, trying to ignore the thick tension in the air.

Mayor Nelson reached out. “Thanks, son. I’ll add it to the?—”

“We can’t consider hiring a contractor who can’t even be bothered to turn his bid in on time.” The full force of Peyton’s icy blue eyes slammed into me. “This is an important event and we need someone we can rely on, someone with a consistent reputation.”

The insult just about knocked the wind out of me. She didn’t have to say anything else. Even though it had been over ten years since she’d turned her back on me and her daddy had run me out of town, it still stung.

“I’ve been doing good work around here. Just ask Levi.” I looked over my shoulder, my spirits lifting just a smidge at Levi’s nod.

“I’m sure you have, but this is a high-profile job and we can’t afford to take any risks,” she said.

“And I’m a risk.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Her expression didn’t change.

She was good at that. Hell, she’d always excelled at not letting anyone know I could get under her skin.

That’s how we’d kept our relationship a secret for so long back in high school.

Would have really messed things up for her if anyone had found out Mustang Mountain’s golden girl was sneaking out to go on joy rides with the town’s bad boy.

She’d meet me at the end of the gravel drive that led to her family’s ranch.

Her blonde hair was always pulled back, her cheeks flushed from running, and her heart pounding just as hard as mine.

I’d wait until we hit the blacktop to turn on the headlights, and she’d be all mine until I dropped her off an hour or two before dawn.

That girl thought I hung the moon. The woman in front of me didn’t even flinch when she shut me down.

“It’s what you meant.” I tucked the folder under my arm. “Don’t worry. I won’t get in the way of your perfect plans.”

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Outside, I stalked down the sidewalk as heat built in my chest. The door to my truck groaned as I jerked it open. Fifteen years had passed and nothing had changed.

Peyton Winslow was still the town’s untouchable ice queen, and I was still the loser her daddy warned her about. The only difference now was that I refused to back down and crawl away.

Back then, I didn’t have a choice. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and Peyton’s dad didn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity to get rid of me for good.

I lost everything… my reputation, my baseball scholarship, and my girl.

And Peyton… she just stood by and let it all happen without saying a fucking word.

Memories flooded my brain. I thought I’d be able to handle seeing her again, but not like that. I threw the truck into gear and pressed on the gas, eager to get away. I was done wearing the bad boy label this town had saddled me with back then.

Not even a beer from Ace’s sounded good anymore.

I rolled down the windows and hightailed it out of town.

I’d been staying at a cabin owned by one of my dad’s old friends.

He didn’t charge me rent in exchange for me fixing it up so he could put it on the market.

I thought about heading there, but I wasn’t ready to be confined to such a small space. My anger needed somewhere to go.

I drove aimlessly until I found myself turning down the dirt road that led to the county fairgrounds where the Founders Festival was going to take place. Maybe I needed to see it for myself. Maybe I wasn’t willing to let Peyton shut me out of everything yet.

It had been forever since I’d been at the fairgrounds. The only time the town used the land was during the county fair. The rest of the time, it sat empty. I’d made some great memories there in the past, but now it just looked like a couple dozen acres surrounded by overgrown fields.

I pulled up next to the main stage. It was a permanent structure that stayed on site throughout the whole year.

The plans called for expansion, but it looked like someone had tried taking it down.

Several of the support beams had been cleanly cut in two.

This wasn’t an accident. Someone deliberately had taken a chainsaw to the stage.

I wondered how long it had been since anyone from the planning committee had been on site.

There weren’t cameras out here. Only the mountains kept watch.

Anyone could have come out and hacked away at the stage without being caught.

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket.

My finger hovered over Levi’s name. The right thing to do would be to report this.

The committee had a right to know someone was plotting against them.

Hell. They’d probably think I’d been the one to sabotage the site. I pocketed the phone and rolled my shoulders.

Rather than give them any more ammunition against me, I headed back to my truck. Screw it. If this festival fell apart, it wouldn’t be because I stood by and let it. I knew how to swing a hammer. I knew how to fix things. And I was damn tired of being the guy everyone expected to cut and run.

I grabbed a pry bar and started pulling up the worst of the broken boards. Sweat dripped down my spine, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

Let Peyton Winslow think whatever the hell she wanted.

I wasn’t leaving this time.