Buck (Rope 'n Ride #1) (12 page)

“That sounds fine,” Channing said, stunned. “Thank you.”

She ended the call and sat staring at the gray ribbon of road for a long moment before Buck touched her hand. She looked at him and he arched a brow in question. Waving, she said, “It’s nothing. Just the bank making sure they have the right address for me.”

She didn’t want to tell Buck what was going on even if Brant weren’t in the truck with them. But her lie tightened a knot of anxiety in her chest too. She was living with Buck for now, but what would happen later? Eventually she’d need to start over and rebuild from the ground up.

And who the hell was accessing her account? It couldn’t be Luke. For all his troubles, he wasn’t a thief. He’d come to her so he wouldn’t sink that low. But that left two possibilities—either this was a random hacker or someone who had her information on hand.

Someone who now owned her car with her information on the registration. It wouldn’t be difficult to dig around and find everything about her if someone were determined.

And the people who were demanding money from Luke were definitely determined.

Shit, shit, shit.

She ran her fingers through her hair and got a whiff of Buck’s scent on her. That only launched her deeper into despair. What was she doing with her life? Somehow she’d driven off-course and had no idea where her own path was anymore.

“Do you drive a pickup too, Channing?” Brant asked out of the blue, leaning between the seats with his camera lights blinking.

She bit off a scream. The last thing she wanted to do was be interviewed.

“Um, no. I don’t have a car right now. I sold it for…”

Buck tensed. She wished for the truck floor to rust out suddenly so she could fall through it.

“I sold it for…wedding money.” What was another lie?

Buck made a sound like he was being strangled but said nothing. Brant zoomed in on her face and she hoped she didn’t have dried saliva on her chin after falling asleep.

“Tell me about the wedding. Why don’t you two discuss it?” He looked between them.

Channing’s vocal cords froze in her throat and she had no idea how to even come up with this big of a lie. “Uhhh…”

“Will it take place on the ranch?” Brant prompted after several silent moments.

Buck saved her by nodding. “Of course. All the Calhouns want to be married on the ranch.”

Was this true? Channing shot him a look and he lifted his shoulder in such a slight shrug she’d bet Brant missed it.

“Will you have all your family there? I know you’re on the outs with one branch that now owns your ranch.”

Buck grunted. “Only until we raise enough money to buy it back from him. But yeah, a big to-do with a band and dancing. We’ll hold the reception in the barn.”

Suddenly she pictured it—twinkle lights strung from the rafters and the smell of fresh hay. All the horses put out to pasture and round tables lit with candles and gleaming with silver and china.

It took a huge amount of effort to swallow. Buck’s arms around her, his eyes shining as he danced her around and around, making promises with his body for their wedding night.

God, what had she done? She’d gone and fallen deeper in love with him. He was so different, though. It was impossible not to see him in a new, brighter, shinier light. Especially when he squeezed her fingers and gave her that crooked grin.

“Channing gets whatever she wants on that day but she’s shy about discussing her plans for the wedding. Guess y’all will have to wait and see,” Buck drawled.

Which only made her tip head-first into loving him more because he knew exactly how to keep her afloat in this strange, tumultuous sea.

Chapter Nine

Buck’s time in Texas was a whirlwind. He and Asher were on fire, bringing home top scores and nice checks. His partner seemed more at ease, whether it was because he was away from the situation at home, Buck had no idea. He and Asher weren’t talking much about personal stuff these days.

Which was good because his friend always saw through him. He’d know something was going on between him and Channing.

As they were loading up their gear and horses, West approached, arms out and a big grin on his face. Like all the brothers, they had similar characteristics. Same nose, square jaws. But West’s hair was a bit lighter. As a kid he’d been full blond but darkened over the years.

Pounding Buck and then Asher on the back, West offered congratulations. “Hey Ash, I’m supposed to let you know that Wynonna has your girls.”

Buck’s brows pinched together. “What’s wrong with Channing?” She’d been doing too much lately, and the strain was getting to her. As soon as possible he was putting her to bed. Preferably in a fancy hotel in a king-sized bed.

West barely glanced at Buck when he responded with, “I don’t know. She asked Wyn to keep them for a bit. I’m just the messenger.”

Asher asked West about the next tie-down roping event, giving Buck a reason to escape. He hurried across the parking lot toward the motel. After their rendezvous behind the shrubbery at the rest stop, she’d been smiling. But in the truck she’d grown quiet. He’d chalked it up to her being shy around the cameras but maybe he was wrong.

He rapped on the door and waited. When she didn’t answer, dread took hold of him. What if she’d left with one of his brothers without telling him? He was getting damn sick of her cut-and-run routine. He pounded the door one more time, when it flew open.

“Jesus, Buck, is somebody dead?”

“No.”

“Then why are you trying to break my door down?” She looked tired after wrangling the Franklin rugrats, but the lines around her mouth were deeper.

He pushed past her and jerked his chin toward the door, indicating she should close it. She muttered something that sounded like, “King Calhoun has spoken,” but he didn’t comment.

“Channing, what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. I’m just packing to go home.”

He looked around at the room they’d shared last night. Her suitcase still spilled clothes and her lacy camisole was hanging off the back of a chair. “Doesn’t look like it to me,” he said.

She ran her fingers through her hair. “Guess I need to get better at it.”

“Darlin’, you’re lying to me. Sit.” He pointed at the rumpled bed. When she leveled him with her glare, he added, “Please.”

Once she did, he crouched before her and took her hands. “Tell me the truth. You’ve been tense since after the rest stop.”

She gave a short, feminine snort, her lips curling in the ghost of a smile that vanished so fast he wondered if he’d imagined it. Seconds ticked by but she didn’t speak.

“Channing. If it’s me…” God, this hurt to even think it let alone speak the words. He braced himself. “If pretending everything is fine between us is too much, I’ll tell production that our engagement is off.” Even as he said it, he rested a finger possessively over the ring she’d put back on for the sake of a contract.

Tears filled her eyes. “No, Buck. I mean, I don’t know. It’s all really confusing, but it’s not the engagement or you.”

He held his breath, only slightly relieved. If it was him, he could control it. But he had no control over the other problem in her life—Luke needed to clean up his own mess and stop involving his sister. Actually, Buck
did
have some control there. He could pay her brother a little visit and warn him off Channing.

A tear rolled down her smooth cheek, breaking his damn heart. He caught it with his thumb and brushed it away. Cradling her face, he said, “Darlin’, please tell me.”

“It’s Luke.”

“Of course.” Dammit, Buck was going to have to haul out his branding iron and take care of the little fucker.

Her gaze flew to his. “I-I think the debtors hacked my bank account looking for money.”

He launched to his feet. “What?”

“I got a call from the bank saying there was suspicious activity. At first I thought it might be a random thing. But now I’m sure it’s because of Luke. Buck…I need that money from this filming. I don’t have anything left to sell. I don’t have a job!”

“He needs to work and get his own ass out of the mess he created.”

Channing stood and put distance between them, her arms folded over her middle. “He does have a job and he’s doing all he can. But they need the money now.”

“How much.”

She named a sum that made his eyes roll back in his head. What kind of fool would lose that kind of money? He passed a hand over his face. It didn’t matter now—it was too late. He owed it, and he’d dragged Buck’s fiancée into the thick of it.

“I’ll pay it.” His jaw was tight, almost as if trying to keep him from speaking the words.

“What? No way, Buck. You earned that money and you need it or Ennis will—”

He took two steps to reach her, bringing her against his chest. She was as tightly-strung as a rope around a steer’s horns. “I’ve made up my mind. Let’s get you free and we’ll think about the future more clearly.”

Meaning I’m finished pretending we’re getting married. I’m marrying you no matter what.

With a huff of relief, she twined her arms around his neck and held on. He buried his face against her neck and breathed in that pink Himalayan salt and grapefruit body wash she preferred. Tenderness choked him. Closing his eyes, he simply held her fast to him until her trembling eased.

He’d made the right decision for him at this moment in time—his brothers and sister would just have to accept that as the reason why he didn’t have his share of the money.

“I can’t let you do this, Buck. Your ranch…”

“Shh. You’re not a Calhoun yet but we take care of our own first.”

* * * * *

What did he mean? Channing’s mind spun. They all considered her part of the family. Maybe he was just in the same mindset.

But…what did she believe now? She loved Buck more than ever. They’d been getting along so much better and he was giving her the attention she’d always desired. But had he really changed or was this all for the sake of the reality show?

She needed time away to think.

Pulling out of his embrace, she wiped her eyes. “Thank you for this. I promise as soon as I get my chunk of the show money, I’ll give it to you.”

His gaze darkened and he opened his mouth as if to argue but shut it again. “We’ll see.” The way he was looking at her was far too familiar to her. He wore that soft expression that melted her into a puddle. “Channing, about the engagement—”

A rap on the door jerked them apart. He groaned and lifted his head, swinging toward the door. “Dammit,” he muttered.

She scooted around him, careful not to brush his body because if she did, they’d end up ignoring the summons and be rolling in the sheets until dawn. As she reached the door, several more loud knocks shook the cheap metal. She whipped it open to find all the Calhouns and half the crew crowded there.

“Where’s the party?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t her room. Lane and Ridge held six-packs and several of the others clutched bottles wrapped in brown paper.

Buck’s heat seared her back as he came up behind her. She resisted the urge to lean against him or rub against him like a cat. His erection was evident, the bulge skimming her buttocks. Her heart tapped out of rhythm.

“Since the Calhouns cleaned up in the last two events, we’re celebrating. Now grab your cast iron stomachs and c’mon,” Ryder said.

This was definitely not normal for level-headed Ryder to lead such a party, but they
did
have something to celebrate.

“Give us a minute,” Buck rumbled so close to her ear that her skin prickled.

“Oh no, bro. If you close that door we won’t see you for days.”

Channing’s face warmed with a blush she knew was being filmed from several angles.

Ryder reached into the room and hooked Buck around the head, wrangling him outside.

“Hey, Ryder, maybe you should change events. I’ll ride the bulls and you wrestle the steers,” Lane quipped.

Wynonna pushed past her brothers, who were scuffling now, and grabbed Channing. “Let’s go, sweetheart. I got us a bottle of tequila.”

“Oh God.” Last time she and Wynonna had shared a bottle of tequila, they’d been saluting their father with a good old-fashioned wake. Channing had no recollection of the events afterward. According to the family, she’d been pretty hilarious, saying funny things and insisting they all dance with her. Apparently she had something in common with their ma—liquor got her limbs moving.

But if she got drunk now, who knew what she’d spout. She dug in her heels. “I’d better not. I might have to help Asher—”

Wynonna’s slanted eyes tipped at the corner, following her lips. “Asher took his girls and went on home. You don’t have any more excuses. C’mon.”

Channing glanced down at her attire. Skinny jeans, boots and one of Buck’s T-shirts knotted at the shoulder. It hung off one shoulder, and she wasn’t even wearing a bra. Her hair and makeup were far from camera-ready.
But after a couple shots of tequila, I won’t care.

“You’re stunning as always,” Wynonna argued.

Channing met Buck’s gaze and he gave a nod. For what reason? Did he mean he’d be there and keep control of her or was he implying they had no choice and they had to come with his siblings?

He’d been about to say more before the knock on the door. She’d like to know what.

“Fine we’ll go.”

A cheer went up. She was tugged outside and the door slammed shut. The whole party moved across the parking lot toward the vehicles that had been parked in a ring. Tailgates were down. The whole set seemed staged, but once they reached the destination and everyone had a drink in hand, she learned that this was the before-party. The warm-up. They were going out on the town.

Groaning, Channing brought the bottle to her lips and tipped it back. Several burning swallows later, she came up for air to find Buck staring at her. His gaze intense, his mouth set into a hard line.

“C’mere, cowboy.” She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Jesus,” he murmured, kissing her back. Tongue swiping the interior of her mouth. His muscles straining as he angled his head and kissed her until she forgot her name. The little bit of alcohol hit her head immediately but when they broke apart, she still had enough presence of mind to smile into the camera.

“You two done?” West drawled. He pushed a beer into Buck’s hand. The Calhouns stood in the family circle—the one she’d always felt left out of—and raised their drinks. She stood shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip with Buck. Lifting her tequila, she said the sacred words with them.

“For you, Dad.”

They drank. As more alcohol slid down Channing’s throat, she looked from face to face, alive with joy. The Calhouns were all in a much different state of mind these days. Yes, that was something to celebrate.

And her brother would soon be clear and safe. Thanks to Buck.

As they moved in a group through the streets of San Antonio, searching for food, more drinks and fun, Channing was swept along. Buck’s hand on the small of her back was a solid comfort. Once he planted her on a barstool beside him, he ordered her some food.

She arched a brow but he just said, “You can’t drink on an empty stomach, for my own peace of mind.”

“Whatever that means,” she said with a flirty smile.

“It means I don’t want you puking all the way home.”

She stared him down until he added, “And I don’t want you saying or doing anything you’ll regret later. Besides, I don’t want you flirting with any of the guys.”

“You’re such a jerk, Buck.” Her words held no rancor, only affection.

“Because I want my woman only looking at me a certain way?” He leaned in until his breath washed over her lips.

Unable to form words, she nodded. A sandwich was placed before her and Buck straightened. As she looked on, munching her club sandwich, Buck toasted each win with his family. The way his throat worked as he swallowed his whiskey sent shudders through her.

“Give me a tequila,” she said to the bartender, pushing her food aside.

“Do a body shot off Buck,” someone called.

Their gazes locked. He gave the barest hint of a nod. Whether he was agreeing for the sake of the show or because he really wanted her lips on him, she had no idea.

“Shot, shot, shot!” his family chanted.

Using his ab muscles, Buck leaned back on the stool, hanging in midair, his head tipped and his throat extended.

She eyed the hollow under his Adam’s apple and wet her lips. Then she picked up her second shot and dribbled it on his tanned flesh. She barely registered the cameras around her or the rowdy yells of the Calhouns as her lips met his skin. She sucked the tequila off, her nipples hard and aching. Her pussy swollen and needy.