Authors: Linda Warren,Marin Thomas,Jacqueline Diamond,Leigh Duncan
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Series, #Harlequin American Romance
The door opened and a gust of hot wind swept through the bar. A guy wearing baggy jeans and a T-shirt two sizes too big for his skinny frame walked in. He wore a buzz cut and was clean shaven, but tattoos covered both arms, the backs of his hands and his entire neck. “What’s up,” he said to Hank then sat three stools away from Buck.
“Daryl,” Hank said.
Daryl?
“You’re the guy who left Destiny at the altar,” Buck said.
The kid’s eyes widened. “Who are you?”
“Buck’s stuck in town until Destiny can repair the broken axel on his truck.” Hank slapped both his palms against the bar and glared at Daryl. “You got a good reason for not showing up to your own wedding?”
Daryl had the sense to look ashamed, making Buck believe the younger man wasn’t cruel at heart—just uncertain or unsure.
Kind of like you.
Buck ignored the voice in his head.
“Rumors are floating through town that Mitchell paid you to stand Destiny up,” Hank said.
That was news to Buck. “Is that the truth?” he asked. “Did Mitchell give you money to abandon your bride?”
Daryl squirmed on his stool. “He offered me a thousand dollars, but I wouldn’t take it.”
Buck didn’t believe him.
“Destiny and I don’t love each other.” Daryl’s gaze swung between the men. “Ask her. She’ll tell you the same thing.”
Hank grumbled then disappeared into the kitchen.
“Is that your truck sitting in the garage?” Daryl asked.
Buck refused to allow the kid to distract him. “If you don’t love Destiny, why are you here?”
“We’re still friends.”
“Where did you two meet?” He eyed the serpent tattoo slithering down Daryl’s arm.
“I’m a bouncer at a nightclub in Kingman.”
What kind of nightclub employed skinny bouncers?
“Destiny came into the club to tell one of the dancers that she was towing her car and we got to talking and hit it off.”
Daryl wasn’t the kind of guy Buck pictured Destiny with. “Why are you here?”
Daryl scowled. “That’s between me and Destiny.”
Buck would prefer that Daryl leave town without seeing Destiny. “She’s taking a nap right now.” And just in case Daryl changed his mind about wanting more than friendship with her, Buck said, “We took a drive on her Harley today.”
“She let you drive the Beastmaster?”
“Beastmaster?”
“She named her hog Beastmaster,” Daryl said.
“I drove the bike.”
“Lucky you. She never let me drive it.”
That bit of news not only made Buck feel good but a little cocky, too. “You’re right about Destiny,” he said. “She’s over you.”
“How do you know?”
“We kissed this afternoon.” Why was he acting like an adolescent jerk?
Daryl’s skinny chest puffed up, but he didn’t throw a punch, which told Buck better than words that the guy didn’t have any deep romantic feelings for Destiny. “I better get going.” Daryl stood. “I gotta be at work in a few hours.”
Buck followed Daryl to the door then watched him cross the street and disappear behind the garage. He checked the clock, intending to keep track of how long lover boy stayed inside Destiny’s apartment.
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of that kid.” Hank appeared at Buck’s side.
“It’s not like that between Destiny and me. Besides,” Buck said, “I’m leaving at the end of the week.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Buck asked.
“I caught you watching Destiny at the pool. You couldn’t stop staring at her bosom.”
“I was trying to figure out what that tattoo was beneath her swimsuit top.” Buck ignored Hank’s chuckle. “How old is Destiny anyway?”
“Twenty-three.”
Buck would have guessed twenty-seven or twenty-eight. There was a world of experience and hard knocks in those pretty blue eyes of hers.
“There he is,” Hank said.
Daryl walked around the side of the garage. Buck checked the clock on the wall. Ten minutes had passed—not enough time to have sex.
The saloon door opened and Daryl froze when he saw Hank and Buck at the window.
“You get things squared away with Destiny?” Hank asked.
“She’s not mad.”
“What happens between you two now?” Hank asked.
“Nothing.” Daryl nodded at Buck. “She wants to see you.”
Buck ignored the tiny jolt in his heart. When the kid reached for the door handle, he said, “Daryl.”
“What?”
“If you ever hurt Destiny again, you’ll have me to answer to.” The words left Buck’s mouth before he could stop them, and to tell the truth, he didn’t know what the hell he meant by them.
Daryl slammed the door hard enough to rattle the saloon windows.
Hank grinned. “’Bout time that girl had someone in her corner.”
Chapter Five
By late Wednesday afternoon, Buck was second-guessing his chivalry toward the cranky mechanic. Destiny had been as short-tempered as a woman wearing too-tight shoes. He didn’t know if it was because she’d had zero tows the past forty-eight hours or because she was nervous about her meeting with the CEO of Wyndell Resorts.
After Destiny had given Buck a tour of the area on Sunday, she’d received a phone call from Custer and he’d invited her to Phoenix to meet with him and his staff. She’d refused, insisting that if the CEO had something to say he should talk directly to the residents of Lizard Gulch. Evidently the developer had never even stepped foot in the town. He’d sent Mitchell to do all his negotiating.
“Is the hotshot here?” Bernie entered Lucille’s, the sheriff’s star pinned to his T-shirt. He joined Buck at the bar.
“Custer’s supposed to be here by five,” Buck said.
Hank poured Bernie a glass of beer. “He’d better not be late.”
“Why’s that?” Buck asked.
“Wednesday night is bingo night.”
What did one have to do with the other?
“The ladies will be spitting mad if bingo doesn’t start on time,” Bernie said.
As if on cue, the ladies of Lizard Gulch filed into the saloon—eleven of them, dressed in their Sunday best. Their husbands made a beeline for the bar.
“Myrtle’s wearing that god-awful red dress with the matching feather hat and scarf again.” Bernie chugged his beer. “Thought we’d decided someone should accidently set that outfit on fire.”
“We did,” Hank said, “but she locks her home up like Fort Knox and we can’t get in to steal it.”
Bernie tapped a finger against the plastic badge. “I’d be willing to look the other way if someone abducted Myrtle after bingo and demanded she strip out of her clothes.”
Buck spun his stool to see this infamous red outfit for himself. The hat perched on Myrtle’s head looked suspiciously like a bird’s nest, and she wasn’t the only woman in the crowd who resembled a feathered friend. Violet, the lady who’d loaned Destiny her wedding veil, could easily be mistaken for a canary in her teal-blue pantsuit, melon-colored blouse and yellow sneakers.
Ralph sauntered up to the bar. When he noticed the others staring at Myrtle, he said, “Sonja claims Myrtle shops at the Goodwill store in Kingman.” He nodded his thanks when Hank set a beer in front of him. “You’d think by her age she’d have learned how to dress.”
“You’re the last person who should be mockin’ Myrtle,” Bernie said.
“Why’s that?” Ralph’s nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge.
“Your wife dresses like a hooker.”
Buck choked on his water. These old men didn’t pull any punches.
“You calling my wife a prostitute?” Ralph slid off his stool.
“Man’s got a point,” Hank said. “Those spandex pants Sonja wears don’t leave a whole lot to the imagination...front or back.”
Ralph jammed his elbow into Buck’s side. “You got something to say about my wife’s clothes?”
“No, sir,” Buck said, even though he sided with the sheriff.
Melba waltzed into the bar and gave orders to push the tables together then she signaled Hank, who then disappeared into the back room and returned a minute later with a Las Vegas–style bubble top blower filled with white plastic balls. He set the machine on the table at the front of the room and plugged it in, while Melba handed out scorecards and Elvis and Betty Boop bingo markers.
“You gonna buy in tonight?” Bernie asked Buck.
“What do you mean buy in?”
“A dollar a bingo card. You gotta buy at least ten cards if you’re gonna have a chance to beat Melba or Violet,” Bernie said. “They’re the bingo queens.”
“I thought bingo was a lady’s game,” Buck said.
“What else is there to do in town on a Wednesday night?” Bernie squinted. “It’s not like we can go down to the pier and fish.”
Buck imagined his brothers’ expressions if they discovered he’d played bingo with a bunch of old farts.
“Melba won three hundred dollars last month,” Bernie said.
That wasn’t small change.
While the ladies finished setting up the tables, Bernie droned on about chartered bus trips to Reno that the group had taken in the past. Buck was on the verge of excusing himself when the saloon door opened and Destiny walked in.
She wore a tight knee-length pencil skirt, a white silk blouse that showed a hint of cleavage and a matching suit jacket, which flared at the waist. His eyes zeroed in on her sexy tanned legs and trim ankles. She’d secured her red curls at the back of her head with a fancy clip, leaving a few wisps loose next to her face. This couldn’t be the same woman who’d worn leather pants to her wedding, drove a Harley then threw on a pair of coveralls and got her hands dirty with engine grease.
“She’s got her don’t-mess-with-me getup on,” Bernie whispered.
Right then, Mitchell entered the saloon, took one look at Destiny and stopped dead in his tracks. A slow smile spread across his face, and Buck’s gut tightened with jealousy. He didn’t like the way the former mayor leered at his girl.
Your girl?
Buck ignored the voice in his head. Now wasn’t the time to mentally debate his developing feelings for Destiny.
“Look,” Bernie said. “Here comes Custer.”
The door opened and the CEO joined the gathering.
“Listen up, everybody,” Mitchell said. “This is Jack Custer, the CEO of Wyndell Resorts.”
The tall man with jet-black hair and silver at the temples spread his arms wide. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the good citizens of Lizard Gulch.” He grasped Melba’s hand and kissed the back of it. The motel manager preened and batted her eyelashes. Then Custer walked through the bar, greeting the ladies and ignoring the men. When he stopped in front of Destiny, his expression sobered. “Hello, Ms. Saunders.”
Destiny didn’t offer her hand. “Whatever you came to say...say it. Bingo night kicks off in a few minutes.”
Certain Destiny could handle Custer and Mitchell, Buck made himself comfortable on his stool and settled in for the showdown.
“Ms. Saunders, I’m here in person to officially present my offer to the townspeople.”
Custer was doing his best to intimidate her, but Destiny refused to be cowed. Half the residents counted on her to defend the town, and the other half wanted her to get out of the way and allow the CEO to take over. Come hell or high water she’d prove to her constituents that Custer didn’t have their best interests at heart.
“Mr. Custer has kindly agreed to meet with us and answer any questions you have about his plans for Lizard Gulch.” Destiny made eye contact with each person in the bar. “I expect this gathering to remain orderly. Raise your hand if you’d like to speak. Mr. Custer won’t leave town until every one of your questions has been answered to your satisfaction.”
The first hand went into the air. “My name is Ralph Estevez and—” he pointed across the room “—that there’s my wife, Sonja. We live rent free in Lizard Gulch.” Ralph straightened his shoulders. “Your eighty thousand dollars ain’t gonna go far. The average rent in a trailer park for two decades is a hundred-twenty grand.”
Custer’s laugh sounded like a bark. “I’m all for having a positive outlook but that’s a stretch, believing the old ticker will work twenty years from now.”
Destiny bristled and opened her mouth to demand Custer be more respectful, but Ralph wasn’t finished speaking. “We’re gonna suffer emotional stress if you force us out of our homes. Who’s gonna pay for our shrinks?”
Custer’s mouth dropped open, and Destiny covered her amusement behind a fake yawn.
“A fairer price for our land would be a hundred fifty thousand,” Ralph said.
Sonja clapped her hands. “You tell him, Ralphie.”
Custer’s expression grew strained. “I understand your concerns and I’ll consider compensating you for part of your moving expenses. As for any future psychiatric care—” he spread his arms wide “—wouldn’t you be happier in a place where people like you—”
“People like us, what?” Bernie shouted.
“Retired people,” Custer said. “There are several communities in Arizona that cater to couples in their twilight years.” He motioned to the bingo machine. “There are lots of other activities—”
“You got something against bingo, Mr. Custer?” Melba asked.
“No, ma’am, but there’s more to life than stamping cards.”
Before a brawl erupted, Destiny raised her arm and the group quieted. She was aware Buck watched her every move, and part of her wanted to impress him—show him she had the upper hand with Custer and that she wasn’t just playing at being the mayor. She didn’t have a college degree, but she had plenty of street smarts and gut instinct insisted any offer the developer put on the table would only benefit him. “Mr. Custer, I think you need to explain how the payout works.”
“After you send your paperwork to my lawyers—”
“What paperwork?” Hank spoke up behind the bar.
“The deed to your property,” Custer said.
“Wait a minute.” Bernie slid off his stool and approached Mitchell. “You told us we didn’t have to own the land our places sit on to get the buyout.”
“You misunderstood the offer,” Mitchell said.
“You calling me stupid?”
Destiny stepped between the men. “There will be no name-calling.” She pressed a hand against Bernie’s chest until he backed up a step and then spoke to the CEO. “Mr. Custer, are you saying the only people eligible to receive the $80,000 payment are those who own land?”
Custer nodded.
Destiny faced her constituents. “That means, only Hank, Melba, Frank and Enrich would receive any money because they own their businesses. The rest of us wouldn’t qualify.”
A gasp rippled through the saloon. Custer took a swig from the bottle of water Mitchell handed him then said, “I assumed all of you owned the property your trailer sits on.”
Bull hockey.
The CEO believed he could get this town for next to nothing.
“I’m not moving unless I get paid to move.”
“Me, neither.”
“Add me to the list of squatters unless I get money.”
“Me, too.”
“Me, three.”
“Me—”
“You told me everyone was on board with my plans!” Custer shouted at Mitchell.
“They were until—” Mitchell nodded to Destiny “—she stirred things up.” It took all of Destiny’s willpower not to laugh in the men’s faces.
“I did what any responsible mayor would do,” she said. “I made phone calls, asked questions and uncovered the truth about Wyndell Resorts’ offer.”
“Don’t worry,” Melba said. “I’m not selling the motel.”
“I’ve got the best lawyers in the business, and rest assured I’ll get my hands on this town,” Custer said.
“If you’re gonna play dirty, so will I.” Melba climbed onto a chair. “Anyone living behind the motel can buy their pad from me for one dollar.”
“That raises the buyout to a couple million,” Destiny said.
Custer’s face turned ruddy. “I’ll offer each resident fifty thousand whether they’re a landowner or not.”
“Take a vote, Destiny,” Hank shouted.
“Yeah, let’s vote before Mr. CEO changes his mind,” Frank said.
“All in favor of selling out, raise your hand.” Destiny counted fourteen. “Opposed?” She raised her hand and said, “It’s a tie.”
“This town needs to think long and hard about its future. Life is short and all of you are nearing the finish line.” Custer shoved Mitchell. “If I don’t own this town soon, you’re fired.” Then he spoke to Destiny. “I’ve never lost a land deal, Ms. Saunders, and I don’t intend to start with this town.”
When Custer made a move to step past her, she blocked him. “Be prepared for a fight, because I don’t give up. Ever.”
Custer left the bar, and Destiny grabbed Mitchell’s arm when he tried to follow his boss out the door. “Are there any more questions or comments for Mr. Mitchell?”
“Yeah,” Ralph said. “Tell your boss to shove his resort up his you-know-what.”
“Anything else?” Destiny said.
Bernie stepped forward. “What happens to Maisy, Victor and Antonio if Custer buys the town?” In addition to being the sheriff, Bernie had been assigned caretaker of the cemetery. “We can’t let them desecrate the burial plots,” he said.
“I agree. That’s bad karma,” Melba said. “If I have to leave here, I don’t want any ghosts following me.”
“I don’t know what will happen to the cemetery.” Mitchell jerked out of Destiny’s hold and left the bar.
“Melba, it was generous of you to offer to sell the trailer pads for a dollar, but you’ll need to hire a lawyer to make sure everything is legallike, otherwise Custer’s minions will find a loophole.” Destiny’s eyes landed on Buck, and she wondered what was going through his mind. Her stomach felt queasy so she smiled at the group and said, “Get on with bingo night and have fun.” Before her stomach erupted in public, she spun on her heels and left the saloon.
As soon as the door shut behind Destiny, Buck spoke to Hank. “What are the chances of Destiny, or anyone for that matter, stopping Custer?”
“Zero to none,” Hank said. “Destiny’ll do what she can to slow down the process, but it’s only a matter of time before Custer gets his hands on this town. None of us has the resources or legal connections to fight him.”
That’s what Buck figured. He stood.
“Aren’t you playing bingo?” Hank asked.
“Maybe next time.” When Buck stepped outside, he spotted Destiny entering the garage. He hurried after her, but got as far as the cemetery before Bernie intercepted him.
“Got me a few questions for you.” Bernie turned his head and spit tobacco juice at the ground. “Seems kind of funny...your truck breakin’ down and you decidin’ to stay in town awhile.”
The sheriff should be sharing his concerns with Destiny since she’d stranded Buck.
“Is Custer payin’ you to cozy up to Destiny so you can persuade her to sell out?”
Buck felt something bump his ankle and glanced down—a cat was weaving figure eights between his legs.
“Look, Bernie. I don’t want to become involved in the town’s dispute with Custer. I’m only here until my truck gets fixed, then I’m moving on.”
“Maisy would vote against selling out.” Bernie stared at the tree in the cemetery.