First Time Train Wreck Read online

Page 4


  Amber had left college to take care of her sick mom. And she’d had steel in her voice as she’d conversed with Sloane. Oh, that asshole wouldn’t be able to sway her easily. Train Wreck could tell just from this conversation that, behind that bell-tone pretty voice of hers, there was a dragon inside of her. She’d grown strong on her own, outside of the ranch, outside of Sloane’s reach, and she wouldn’t be bought easily.

  Train Wreck couldn’t help the smile that stretched his face. Gah, she was more and more interesting.

  The way she spoke… She said just as much with her silence as with words. She didn’t just kiss Sloane’s ass, like that dime-store cowboy was probably used to. There was nothing sexier than a confident woman who could hold her ground.

  And she’d lied. She’d lied for Train Wreck.

  She’d said he had only turned on her ATV and declined an autograph when they were in the blind zone outside of view of the cameras. And she’d kept the word “Hagan” to herself. Clever girl. She was collecting information, just like he was, only she was doing it against her own family, and that right there told him all he needed to know. She valued a moral compass over tainted blood ties.

  But still, he had a plan. A dangerous one that she needed to stay far away from. Now, after hearing part of her story, it felt more important she was safe from what he was doing.

  On the bed beside him was his shirt, belt, and phone. His hair was still damp from the shower earlier, and he smelled like some lavender bullshit shampoo the hotel provided. Badass bovines should not smell like fruits or flowers. It broke the man-code. He needed to go to the grocery store and pick up some manly smelling shampoo and body wash. Yeah. That’s why he was going to the store.

  Not because Amber had said she needed to go grocery shopping tonight.

  Definitely not because of that.

  ****

  Frog meowed loudly, but she would settle. It was just a new store, and today was probably stressful on her little kitty. She was used to her apartment back in Boise, and now she’d spent the whole day in an unfamiliar cabin. It was understandable that she looked so distraught.

  “Shhhh, baby, it’s okay.” Amber petted her head and tickled her fingernails down her spine. She was hooked to the grocery cart child seat with a short leash and lying on a brightly colored comfort blanket Amber had put there.

  To her utter joy, they hadn’t stopped Amber at the door and kicked her and her little cat out. Instead, one of the cashiers ran up squealing and asked if she could pet her. That boded well for her future shopping visits. Yep, she was one of those crazy cat ladies that had separation anxiety from her little hairball. She used to be insecure about it, but now she just owned it.

  She made it down three aisles and had about half of her grocery list marked off when she turned a corner and slammed into a cart.

  Frog hissed, Amber yelped, and a sexy cowboy with silver hair looked utterly startled.

  “Train Wreck?” she asked, trying to slow her heartbeat before the dang thing jumped out of her chest.

  “You. And your cat.” His wide eyes dipped down to Frog. “What’s wrong with your cat?”

  Offended, Amber rushed to cover Frog’s ears. “She has dwarfism.”

  “I don’t give a shit about her short legs. Where’s all her hair?”

  Frog hissed at him again.

  “She can hear you,” Amber whispered, covering her ears better. “She’s a burn victim. House fire. She couldn’t jump out of an open window because…well…her legs are too small.”

  “How old is she?”

  “She’s not that old!” Amber whisper-screamed at the rude man.

  “Fifty? Do cats live to fifty?”

  “Fourteen, you jerk.” She steered her cart around his and bustled off. “I’m thirty. Would you like to know my weight, too?” Okay she was being a little loud, but he should know her boundaries. No one insulted her cat!

  “Why do you have the cat in a grocery store?”

  “Because I’m a crazy cat lady who has been single forever, so I gave in last year and adopted my first cat. I’m planning on fifteen more!”

  There was a snort and a chuckle behind her, and she didn’t know where the instinct came from, but she wanted to turn around and ram him with the cart. And she would’ve if Frog wasn’t strapped in for the ride.

  “Does she jump like a frog?” he asked from right beside her.

  “Yes, and it’s adorable.” She reached up and grabbed a can of ranch-style beans, and when she turned, he was right there, staring down at Frog like she was a Martian. “Do you mind?” she asked as rudely as she could muster.

  “I’m forty,” he said, “and I weigh two-hundred-sixty pounds.” He reached out to pet Frog and, secretly, Amber wished her cat would bite him. But Frog didn’t because she was a hairy angel, perfect in every way, and did everything right, including sniffing his hand. She then leaned into his touch like the adorable little cuddle gremlin that she was.

  “Can I carry her?” he asked.

  “No. She hates you.”

  He unhooked her leash and picked her up.

  “No!” Amber growled. “She’s wild! She’s a wild cat and will run away.”

  Train Wreck held up her little leash. “I’ve got her.” He nuzzled his face against Frog’s and said, “You wouldn’t run away. You love your mommy too much.”

  Oh, Mylanta, he had the cutest baby-talking voice ever. Before she caught a fly in her mouth, she closed it and cleared her throat. “What’s on your list, and I’ll grab it while you hold Frog.”

  “I need you to pick out some body wash and shampoo that doesn’t smell like a fuckin’ flower.”

  She frowned. “That’s all you need?”

  He was now cradling Frog like a baby. She had her little paws wrapped around his hand as he scratched under her chin. Amber could hear her purring from here. Okay, cat whisperer, that’s a little much.

  “Does every girl just fall at your feet?” she asked sarcastically as she pushed the cart forward again.

  “Most of them do. Some are a little pricklier than others.” He tossed her a baiting grin.

  “Well, I’m immune to your charms. You ignored my texts and rammed my cart. I have a very high standards.”

  “You adopted the ugliest cat on planet Earth. Don’t preach to me about the bars you set.”

  Amber scoffed. “What are you doing here anyway? Did you come here on purpose? To see me?”

  “Yep. I also heard your entire conversation at dinner with Sloane.”

  “What?” she demanded, yanking the cart to a stop in front of the canned vegetables section.

  “I put a bug in there. I listened from my hotel room. I was ass-naked in the shower while I listened to y’all chat.” His grin turned wicked. “Ass…naked…”

  Amber gulped as she envisioned it. Him, soaking wet, all tan and tattooed, running his hands through his hair under a rain shower, trickles of water gliding down his body…down…down…

  “It’s big,” he murmured. “I want you to imagine it correctly.”

  “This is very filthy talk,” she reprimanded him. “I’m a lady.”

  When Train Wreck bit his lip and gave her the sexiest smolder she’d ever received, a horny little goblin inside her mind wondered how uncomfortable it would be to bang on this tile floor. And that right there was a highlight as to how long it had been since she’d been with a man.

  “Spying isn’t polite.”

  “The truth?” he asked earnestly. “I didn’t mean to spy on you. I didn’t know you were having dinner with him when I planted that bug. I was trying to listen in on him and Helena. You were a surprise.” His tone was serious now, and his eyes so blue and clear as he searched her face. “A good surprise. The things you said. The parts of your story you shared…well, I know they weren’t for me. I feel like I stole them, and it doesn’t sit right. I liked hearing about your life, but it wasn’t right how I did it. So…I came to say I’m sorry. For that. For stealing fr
om you.”

  A man had never shocked her more. An apology freely given? Not only that, but he could’ve gone about his life and never told her that he’d wired the place. He could’ve kept that secret, and she wouldn’t have been the wiser. It took a certain kind of man to own up to the wrong he did.

  “Forgive me?” he asked.

  She tilted her chin a little higher and made him wait another few seconds before she said, “Forgiven.”

  Frog’s purring was getting ridiculously loud. “Okay, wizard, what have you done to my cat?”

  “I have a way with animals,” he mumbled, keeping pace beside Amber. “I’m an animal after all. I understand them.”

  There was something very attractive about a giant man cuddling a little animal like a baby. And it was more attractive still that her cat liked him, but she wouldn’t admit that out loud.

  “You’re famous. You’ve been all over television and are one of the top bucking bull shifters in the world. People stand in lines to meet you and want your autographs, and here you are in this little store in small-town Idaho, walking with me and my cat, shopping for body wash. This is crazy.”

  “Are you going to wear my T-shirt to sleep in tonight?” he asked.

  “Of course not. That would be weird now that I’ve met you.”

  He shrugged and kept scratching Amber’s clingy cat. “I don’t think it’s weird. It’s weird to wear strangers faces on your boobs. Now we’re friends. And friends have the right to ask for favors.”

  “Oh, goodness, what favor now?”

  “Same one. Just stay clear of what is happening.”

  “I’m trying my best, but you keep setting booby traps.”

  Train Wreck laughed. “Planting six bugs in a house is hardly a booby trap. I’m saving those for my next phase.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. There is no more dead zone by the office. That giant cowboy was installing a camera up there when I rode back to the cabin tonight.”

  “Of course, he did. You’ll probably have one on your cabin when you get home, too. Sloane will want to keep an eye on his new hire.”

  “I don’t want a camera on my cabin. I don’t want to be watched all the time.”

  “Rip it down, look straight into it, flip Sloane the bird, and then bury that mother fucker,” Train Wreck said.

  “Really?”

  “You’re grown and you’re right. You don’t have to be watched all the time. If he pulls that crap, you let him know where you draw the line. Tell him not to be a creep.”

  “Yeah.” She frowned and then repeated, “Yeah!” Because Train Wreck was right. That was her home, and if she didn’t want cameras spying on her every move, she didn’t have to deal with it. She spied her favorite part of the store and took a hard right. “Whoo, the makeup aisle.”

  “Oh, God.”

  She giggled and picked up a tube of red lipstick. “This is going to take a while. You don’t have to stay here for it.”

  “Yeah, fuck this, I’m gonna get some beef jerky.”

  “Don’t take my cat!”

  “We’ll be right back in four hours when you’re done.” He lifted Frog’s face to his ear, and when she nuzzled against him, the giant man laughed like the little kitty had tickled him. He laughed! It was so damn cute. Through that laughter, he punched out the words, “Frog just told me, ‘Fuck the makeup aisle. Mommy doesn’t need it.’”

  “Mmm hmmm,” she said.

  “And she also said she loves beef jerky, but you never let her have any.”

  “It’s so weird that you eat beef jerky. You’re a beef!”

  “Cake,” he muttered as he walked off.

  Confused, she asked, “What?”

  “A beefcake,” came the reply from the next aisle.

  “Oh, my God, and he does dad jokes. Settle down ovaries. We’ll get through this together—”

  Train Wreck poked his head back into the aisle with a bewildered look on his face. “I can hear everything you’re saying. You know that, right?”

  She gulped. “I was unaware of how good shifter hearing is.”

  “Yeah, just for future reference, you could be outside by your car, and I would still be able to hear you talking.”

  She pursed her lips and tried to control the heat flaming into her cheeks. “Let’s just pretend none of that was said.”

  “You like dad jokes?”

  “I think I’m going to get some nail polish. I think it’s located in the next aisle, or in New Mexico maybe, where I will crawl into a hole and hide for the rest of my life. It was nice to meet you.”

  His grin was obnoxious(ly hot). “No, I mean, usually girls tell me they like my ass in wranglers, or they like how I buck, or my eyes, or the six-pack.” He patted his stomach, and it made a muscular thud sound. “But not you. You like dad jokes.” He looked proud as a peacock right now.

  He was ruffling her. She had no good comeback, no good burn. Not a single word plopped forth from her mouth. She just stood there mortified, pressing her palms against her burning cheeks in an attempt to both hide and cool them.

  Train Wreck frowned and straightened to his full, towering height, canted his head as he studied her. There was this loaded moment when something heavy hung in the air between them. She was trapped in his gaze, witnessing his eyes morph from human light blue to the dark brown of his bull. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked in a deep, rumbling tenor.

  “I had a crush on you,” she whispered. Oh, cut her tongue right out! “I mean, it was one of those crushes on a famous person that you will never actually meet, and you know if you did ever meet them, you would be disappointed because they would be much different than you imagined, and possibly rude. But then you showed up, and you aren’t disappointing at all. And you frazzle me. But I don’t get frazzled. I’m a girl who keeps her cool under pressure, and then I get around you and…and…I turn into this bumbling person I don’t recognize. And I don’t know if it’s good or bad. Or if I’m just under stress from moving here and not knowing anyone, and then you come along and you feel familiar because I followed your social media for the last year and sometimes it’s easy to pretend you’re friends in real life with people you see on social media because they share parts of themselves on there. And I still remember the picture you posted of you and your parents at the rodeo in Cheyenne. I saved it to my computer because your parents looked so happy to be cheering you on, and I love that. The world needs more men who aren’t just flashing their perfect nipples to their fans in filtered pics. It needs more men who are proud to be a good son. And a good person. And I think you’re a good person, and I’m rambling, I know, but I’m asking you now, face-to-face, to be honest and tell me something real. Are you a good person?”

  Train Wreck sauntered over to her, held her with his gaze. Such honesty swam in his eyes as he said, “I’m trying to be.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. That was enough. A trying man was everything.

  “You’re a good person, too,” he murmured. “I can tell.” Train Wreck handed Frog over to her and backed up a few steps. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t. Instead, he did an about-face and left. Just…disappeared.

  Amber stood there, confused, and after a full minute when he didn’t return, she turned and distractedly looked at makeup again. It wasn’t as fun anymore with her head full of questions.

  “I like this one,” Train Wreck said, appearing suddenly in the aisle again. He held out a nail polish in the color of hot pink. “Most of the time, I just like plain, boring color on women, like beige. But you’re brighter.” He cleared his throat. “I’m going to buy this for you.” He ran his hand down his beard and shifted his weight to his other boot. “I like the way you look.” And with that, he disappeared again, and this time, he didn’t come back at all.

  It wasn’t until she was completely done with all her shopping that she found him outside, rifling through a bag in the back of his truck that he had parked one empty space away from her Must
ang.

  She hopped up on the rail of her shopping cart and coasted toward him. “I thought you ran away.”

  “I’m not a runner,” he said as he watched her gliding toward him with an amused look on his face. “You’re pretty smooth on a cart.”

  “And I can dance, too.” Her grandmother had taught her to exude confidence even when she didn’t feel it.

  “Well, bust a move,” he said. “Let me see.”

  She hopped off the cart and yanked it to a stop and prepared to wow him with her Running Man dance, but he lifted a handgun out of the bag, pulled the lever on the back, and checked for a bullet.

  “Holy hell no, you have a gun,” she said, backing away.

  “Oh, it ain’t my gun.”

  “Whose is it?” she yelped.

  “It’s yours now. Do you know how to shoot?”

  “Hell, no, I don’t know how to shoot. Are you crazy? Why would I ever need to shoot something? I don’t eat rabbits or coyotes or elks or whatever it is you need guns for. I’m not out there hunting my food. I can buy hamburger in there!” She jammed her finger at the grocery store behind her.

  “This is the clip,” he said, holding up a long bullet-filled metal piece.

  “No.”

  “You shove it in her like a pecker in a vagina. Like so.” He shoved it right up into the handle of the handgun.

  “You aren’t listening.”

  “I’m teaching you. This is the safety.” He pointed to a little tab on the barrel. “This means the safety is on.” He clicked it up. “This means it’s off.” Clicked it down. “To cock it and put a bullet in the chamber, you pull back on this little lever.”

  “Okay, this is a waste of your time. I will never use that.”

  “Just listen to my instructions and take it back home, just to make me feel better. You can put it away in the closet. Keep it unloaded if it makes you feel better. Always keep the barrel of the gun pointed away from you and the cat. Only aim it at someone you want to drop. You understand?”

  “What do you think is going to happen?” she whisper-screamed, clutching her precious Frog. The cat meowed. “You’re traumatizing my cat!”

 

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