BULL (The Buck Boys Heroes Book 1)

by Deborah Bladon

  As soon as she spots me, her face lights up. “Trina! Hey!”

  I raise a hand to wave at her from the back of the line. “How are you?”

  “Busy,” she replies with a chuckle. “I’ve missed you. I stopped by your apartment last night, but you weren’t home. Did you have a hot date?”

  Both women in front of me, who are waiting to place their orders, turn to look.

  I smile at them and shrug. “No hot date. No date at all.”

  It comes out sounding way more awkward than I intend.

  Aurora hands the beverage she prepared to a man in a suit before she replies, “I guess that was wishful thinking on my part. Given how many brothers and sisters you have, you must have been hanging out with one of them.”

  I tell myself that I’m not lying to her if I don’t say another word on the subject.

  I wait patiently while she prepares the orders of the two women in line in front of me.

  One approaches me after she picks up her latte. “If you’re single, I have a brother you should meet. I can give you his number.”

  I laugh that off. “I’m sure he’s great, but I’m not looking for anything right now.”

  “She’s taking some me time.” Aurora curls her fingers to toss air quotes around the last two words. “That means no he time.”

  “I like that,” the woman says, grinning. “I should try that sometime.”

  “And I should try something new,” I begin before I wink at Aurora as I approach the counter. “I’ll have something decadent with whip cream and cinnamon on top. Make it two. I want to surprise my sister.”

  “You’ve got it.” Aurora snatches up a paper cup to write my name on the side. “Do you have time for a quick visit before you head to Brooklyn? My break is in five minutes.”

  “I have all day,” I say happily.

  I plan on savoring the next few hours before I go back to the penthouse.

  “Perfect.” Aurora beams. “I’ll make your drink, and then after we chat, I’ll whip up something extra special for Clara.”

  With a belly full of blueberry cobbler and a heart filled with happiness after spending two hours at the bakery with one of my sisters, I slide my wedding rings back on.

  Adjusting the diamond so it’s centered on my finger, I sigh.

  I’d never admit it to my husband, but I’m getting used to wearing the rings. When I get married for real one day, I already know that I’ll never take my rings off.

  I sense that they add an extra level of bonding between couples who have devoted themselves to each other for the right reasons.

  Unlike Graham and I.

  Our marriage is meant to pull the wool over someone’s eyes, someone I admire and respect.

  “Mrs. Locke,” Eugene calls to me as I approach the lobby doors. “How are you, this fine Saturday?”

  I perk an eyebrow. “You work on weekends?”

  “Every second Saturday,” he explains as he reaches for the curved steel handle of one of the lobby doors. “The trade-off is that I get to spend Monday with my wife.”

  I breeze past him. “That sounds like it works out well.”

  “You know it,” he says.

  Shoving a hand in the front pocket of my jeans, I tug out a five dollar bill and offer it to him. “Thank you, Eugene.”

  He waves it away with a swat of his hand in the air. “Your husband told me earlier today that I’m not to accept any more tips from his beautiful wife.”

  I reach for his hand and tuck the money into his palm. “It’s our little secret then.”

  His face beams with a bright smile. “I’ll keep it to myself.”

  “Is he home?” I question as Eugene walks next to me through the lobby. “He was going into the office for at least part of the day.”

  “He left with Mr. Abdon a couple of hours ago.” He drops the volume of his voice. “I’ve been at my post since, and they haven’t snuck past me.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I nod my head. “That gives me time to freshen up before they get back.”

  “Not that you need it.” He winks. “If I haven’t mentioned it, you’re a breath of fresh air, Mrs. Locke. It’s good to see Mr. Locke happy.”

  My head snaps in Eugene’s direction as he pushes the elevator call button. “He’s happy?”

  He leans a touch closer to me. “Just between us, your husband didn’t always stop to say hello when he arrived home.”

  “He does now?”

  “Each and every time.” He nods. “It seems that you brought some much needed sunshine into his life.”

  Even though I’m well aware that my husband would never acknowledge that, I like knowing it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Graham

  I’d say this is a sight for sore eyes, but it’s more apt to call it a sight for my aching dick.

  My wife is sporting jean cut-offs and a light blue T-shirt as she naps on one of the uncomfortable couches in my living room.

  This is not the outfit she had on when she took off out of her earlier. I should know. I thought she looked amazing in the jeans and sweater she was wearing then.

  This getup she’s in now is next level.

  I’ve never considered myself a leg man, but goddammit, Trina’s legs are fucking perfection. They are long, tanned, and bent slightly at the knees as she rests on her side with her hands tucked beneath her face.

  “Look at that angel,” Lloyd whispers as he points at the vision in front of us. “I think you married up, Bull.”

  I didn’t just marry up. I married a woman who is better than me in every possible way.

  She stirs slightly.

  “Carry her to bed,” he demands. “Scoop up your bride and take her to bed.”

  My head snaps in his direction. “What?”

  “Do it,” he urges with an elbow in my rib cage. “You two could use a few moments alone before dinner.”

  I catch the wink he sends my way.

  If I’m not mistaken, he’s telling me in a not so discreet way to take my wife to the bedroom for a late afternoon fuck.

  I’m game, but since Trina and I are married for all the wrong reasons, that’s not going to happen.

  She told me to my face that I’m not her type.

  I still highly doubt that, but now is not the time to dwell on whether or not Miss Shaw finds me as fuckable as I find her.

  “Let’s leave her be,” I suggest so I can get the hell out of this room.

  I want to jump into a cold shower and conjure up a mental image of anything other than my wife.

  “Why?” Lloyd perks both of his graying brows. “Your bed has to be more comfortable than that couch.”

  The floor is more comfortable than that couch, as is the concrete sidewalk in front of the building.

  I can tell that he’s not going to drop this, so I give in.

  I move toward my assistant to slide a hand under her to grab her waist. She wiggles, but her eyes stay closed.

  I scoop my other hand under her knees and instantly have her up in my arms.

  That’s enough to jar her awake.

  Her eyelids pop open, and the sight she’s greeted with is my face. “Graham?”

  For fuck’s sake.

  If I thought her voice was sexy before, this just woken version of it is enough to make me come in my pants.

  That hasn’t happened since I was a teenager.

  I draw in a deep breath to try and conquer my need for her. “The bed is a much better place to have a nap.”

  Her lazy gaze drifts from my face to where Lloyd is standing behind me.

  “Graham’s going to take you to bed,” he announces with a chuckle. “I’m headed to my room. I’ll see you, newlyweds, in a couple of hours.”

  Trina’s fingers drift over my shoulder to the back of my neck. They whisper over my hairline.

  Her touch is soft. It feels intimate in a way I’m not expecting.

  I glance at her face again to find her staring at me.r />
  “We’ll see you later, Lloyd,” I say without tearing my gaze away from my wife.

  I carry her silently to my bedroom, wishing that I could slam the door behind us, strip her, and spend the next two hours consummating this marriage.

  As soon as she can, Trina slips from my arms and lands on my bedroom floor on her bare feet.

  I rake her over only to stop midway because it’s obvious that she enjoyed the ride in here. Her nipples have furled into tight little points beneath her T-shirt.

  I’d trade half of my fortune for the chance to get my teeth around one.

  Who the fuck am I kidding? I’d hand over everything I own and all of my future income to taste not only her tits but the rest of her too.

  Her arms jump to cross her chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Honesty may be the best policy, but if I confess that I want to fuck her raw, I sense she’ll pack up her suitcase and run for the hills.

  I divert because keeping this marriage on track is my priority. “You’re going to be happy to know that Kay’s latest design is part of the spring collection.”

  Her face lights up. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

  I work to hold in a chuckle. “I’m not fucking kidding you right now.”

  She bounces on her feet. That sends her already messy hair tumbling around her shoulders.

  I glance down because of my ongoing effort to tame my dick when I’m in the same room as her.

  “Does she know?”

  I look up to find her hands on her hips and those nipples still at rapt attention. “No.”

  “Can I be there when you tell her?” she asks like I’m about to hand Kay the keys to the Abdons kingdom.

  I hold those tightly in my palm and have no intention of ever letting them out of my grasp.

  “You can tell her.”

  “What?” Her eyes lock on mine. “I can tell her? Are you serious, Graham?”

  If something like this brings my wife joy, I’ll make the dreams of every one of our employees come true, just so she can spread the good news.

  “We’ll go over the details on Monday morning.” I eye up the door that leads to the bedroom I’ve been staying in.

  I’m in desperate need of that cold shower now.

  “I’ll look forward to that, sir.”

  Sir. Again.

  Fuck my fucking hard cock.

  “I’ll see you at dinner, Trina.” I inch back a few steps toward the bedroom door. “We’re having dinner at Nova tonight with Lloyd.”

  “That’s super fancy.” She smiles. “I’ll pick out something extra nice to wear.”

  She could wrap a potato sack around her body, and she’d be a vision of beauty.

  “All right,” I half-cough out as I step back yet again.

  “See you later, husband.”

  My lips curl into a half-ass smile. “Later, wife.”

  I finally open the door and retreat into the hallway. Sucking in a deep breath, I graze a hand over the outline of my erection through my pants.

  A cold shower won’t fix this. I need to circle my cock with my fist and pump one out.

  I don’t give a shit if it’s appropriate or not, my wife is going to be the inspiration for every fantasy I have until the day she divorces me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Trina

  I ate all of my dinner with my left hand in my lap.

  That’s because I know far too many people in New York City, and I didn’t want any of them spotting the sparkler on my left hand. I’m still in the process of crafting a speech to recite to my family as soon as I’m divorced.

  It won’t be easy, but I’m hoping that once they hear that I did it mostly to make Mr. Abdon happy, they’ll understand.

  The money is a great perk, though.

  “Where to now?” Lloyd spins in a circle on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant.

  He toasted to our marriage so many times during dinner that I lost track.

  Graham and I both lifted our wine glasses silently each time, clinking them together before taking a sip of the bold red wine.

  I had to pretend to sip after the sixth toast so I could manage to leave the restaurant on my own two feet.

  “Home,” Graham mutters.

  “It’s late,” I chime in to second my husband’s suggestion. “I can make us some herbal tea before you go to bed.”

  Both men turn to look at me.

  Lloyd’s gaze is soft.

  Graham can’t seem to take his eyes off the front of my dress. I admit the neckline plunges, but it’s the nicest little black dress I own, and I wanted to look extra special since Mr. Abdon dropped a few hundred dollars on the meal we just ate. Most of that was spent on wine.

  “Look at you two.” Lloyd’s hand traces circles in the air as if he’s a magician about to unveil a hidden rabbit. “You’re eager to hit the hay.”

  I can’t speak for my boss, but I’m ready to call it a night.

  Today has felt like four days compressed into one.

  I need a break and something stronger than herbal tea. I wish I were at home so I could knock on Aurora’s door for a hot cup of coffee and one of her smiles.

  “I’ll get a car to pick us up.” Graham’s fingers fly over his phone’s screen. “The wait shouldn’t be long.”

  A shiver runs through me as I nod. I didn’t think to grab a sweater to ward off the cool evening breeze. I had to rush to get ready when Graham sent me a text message telling me to meet him and Lloyd in the living room.

  The warm shower I took was way too long, and that’s not because I spent thirty minutes conditioning my hair.

  I touched myself as the water ran over me.

  Thoughts of my husband may have been playing in my mind. It was hard not to think about the way his hands felt on my body as he carried me to his bedroom or the way he stared at me after he set me down on my feet.

  “You’re cold.” Graham steps toward me. “You’re cold, aren’t you, Trina?”

  Before I can get a word out, his suit jacket is off of his body and wrapped around mine. He adjusts the lapels, taking a moment to slide his fingers down them until they almost brush against my breasts.

  I stare at him. “Thank you, Graham.”

  “Back in my day we’d call that chivalrous,” Lloyd says from where he’s standing to the left of us. “You’ve come a long way from the boy you used to be, Bull.”

  I look into my husband’s eyes. “Bull? That’s your nickname?”

  “Was,” he gently corrects me as he once again adjusts the jacket wrapped around me.

  “We agreed that I’d stop calling him that around the office. I got used to that, but now that I’m retired, it slips out,” Mr. Abdon explains with a chuckle.

  I want to get to the bottom of this, so I press on, “Lloyd, why Bull? Where did that come from?”

  Graham’s index finger darts to my chin. He turns my head a touch until I’m looking at him again. “It’s a very long and boring story that’s not worth getting into.”

  I glance over his shoulder at the few cars that are approaching us. “I think we have time. It doesn’t look like our ride is within sight.”

  Lloyd clears his throat to gain my attention again. “It started when he was a lot younger.”

  Whatever he says next is lost under the sound of my husband’s voice. “I played football in high school. I picked up the nickname then.”

  “Graham,” Lloyd snaps out.

  My gaze volleys between both men. It’s obvious that Graham isn’t telling me the whole story behind the name, but Lloyd wants to, so I focus on him. “How did you hear about the name if it was Graham’s nickname in high school?”

  Lloyd glances at Graham. I’ve seen that look only a handful of times in the past, and it’s always been in the office when Lloyd has been primed to drop some juicy details about a business deal.

  This isn’t a business deal, though. This is Graham’s past.


  “Lloyd was in the stands for a few games,” he says in a rush as his gaze darts over his shoulder. “Where’s the damn car?”

  “To watch you play?”

  Graham looks at me again. “It was his alma mater. He used to play on the same team back in his day.”

  I search Mr. Abdon’s face for some truth, but he drops his chin down. “That’s right.”

  Graham breathes a heavy and very audible sigh of relief. “That’s our car. It’s time to go home.”

  And just like that, the discussion about my husband’s past has come to an abrupt end, and I have way more questions than answers about the man I married.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Graham

  “I’m sorry, Graham.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut when I hear the emotion in Lloyd’s voice. I didn’t fucking want this to happen. My intention wasn’t to silence him in front of the restaurant, but I’m a huge proponent of letting sleeping dogs lie.

  I don’t need or want Miss Shaw to gain insight into the person I used to be.

  I left that guy behind when I graduated from college and started working an entry-level position at Abdons.

  I’ve wished for a hell of a long time that Lloyd would drop the nickname I carried with me for years, but he’s still clinging to it. I know why. It’s part habit and part nostalgia.

  Lloyd wishes his past was his present, but time can’t maintain that.

  Life changes.

  People change. I’m proof of that.

  I turn and face him. “No need to apologize.”

  He nods sagely. “You’re not comfortable telling Trina about…”

  “No,” I cut him off before he gets the two words I hate the most out of his mouth.

  The past.

  “She’d understand,” he states as though life is that simple.

  Maybe she would, or perhaps she’d judge me, but it doesn’t matter. I’m tied to Trina for three months, and then we’ll part ways. She’ll leave with more than a million dollars, and I’ll walk away knowing I gave Lloyd something he wanted.

  That’s the chance to see me settled down with a woman he believes I’m worthy of.