BULL (The Buck Boys Heroes Book 1)

by Deborah Bladon

  “Scout’s honor,” the asshole says as he raises a finger in the air.

  I’m no boy scout, but I’m reasonably sure that pledge involves three fingers, not one.

  It doesn’t matter to my wife. She finds it all funny as fuck. That’s evident in the way she’s laughing at this chump.

  I stand and stare at the two of them as Trina’s laughter subsides. “How is she?”

  “How is who?” Those words escape me before I realize I’m speaking aloud.

  “Scout,” Trina answers with another small laugh. “I was asking how Scout is.”

  “Who is Scout?” I toss out another question even though the answer to the last one made absolutely no sense to me.

  “My sister,” the guy charming the hell out of my wife says. “I’m William Knight, and you are?”

  I look at Trina before I answer his question. “Married to the woman you can’t take your eyes off of.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Trina

  Oh no.

  Oh, big NO with a capital N and a huge O.

  I glance at the stunned expression on William’s face before I turn to my husband.

  “Graham!” I bite out his name from between clenched teeth.

  His gaze drops to where I’m hiding my left hand behind my back.

  “Trina,” he says my name like everything is fine.

  It’s not.

  He just told the brother of one of my oldest and dearest friends that we’re married.

  If Scout gets wind of this, my entire family will know that I wed my boss.

  That can’t happen.

  “You’re married?” William questions with a quirk of his brow. “Did he just say you’re married to him, Trina?”

  “Who exactly are you?” Graham chooses this second to go all she’s-my-wife-back-off on William.

  “A friend,” William answers honestly. “I’ve known Trina since she was in the first grade.”

  Graham’s gaze volleys between William and me. “You’re just friends?”

  William adjusts one of his diamond-studded cufflinks. “We’re more like family, which is why I’m surprised you’re claiming to be married to Trina. I didn’t catch your last name, Graham.”

  He draws Graham’s name out slowly.

  I jump into the fray because I need to do some major damage control before William starts spreading the news that I tied the knot.

  “Graham is my boss,” I begin before I draw a deep breath. “It’s a complicated situation, William. We’re trying to make a man’s dying wish come true, so we’re married temporarily, but it’s in name only.”

  Graham clears his throat.

  “Technically, it’s not in name only,” I continue at a rapid pace. The words fly out of me in between nervous breaths. “I’m still Trina Shaw.”

  William crosses his arms. “Did he force you to marry him? Did he coerce you in some way by leveraging your job?”

  “What the hell?” Graham mutters.

  “No,” I answer quickly. “It’s not like that.”

  “What’s it like?” William presses.

  I’m so deep into this that I see no way out other than the truth. I draw my left hand back into view. “I married Graham because the man who owns Abdons is ill, and we want to make the little bit of time he has left as happy as we can.”

  William reaches for my hand to study the rings. “It’s admirable, but you couldn’t pretend to be engaged? You had to take it to the next level?”

  His concern is deeply rooted in our friendship. He’s always been like another brother to me. Ever since I met Scout, her two brothers have kept a watchful eye on me.

  William is the oldest. He’s also the most intuitive.

  “It’s temporary,” I stress. “I haven’t told anyone because it’s only going to last a few months. Once it’s over, and I’m divorced, I plan on telling my family and Scout.”

  I add his sister’s name to that list even though I haven’t seen Scout in almost a year. She’s been living in London.

  He glances at Graham. “Since Trina wouldn’t jump into something like this without her eyes wide open, I’m going to assume you’re a stand-up guy, Graham.”

  “He is,” I hear myself saying before Graham can respond.

  “This isn’t my story to tell, Trina, so you don’t have to worry that I’m about to race out of here and call Scout to fill her in.”

  I smile, feeling like I should thank him for reading my mind.

  “Besides, this may not end the way you two think it will.” William chuckles. “Life rarely goes according to plan.”

  “This will end exactly the way we planned.” I look at Graham for reassurance. “We’ll be divorced soon, and this marriage will be nothing but a memory.”

  William and I both wait for Graham to chime in, but he stands stoically, staring at my face.

  “Like I said,” William begins before he kisses my forehead again. “Keep an open mind. Life may have another path for you two.”

  He pats Graham on the shoulder as he brushes past him before he walks away, leaving me convinced that he’s wrong.

  The path ahead of my husband and me is clear. There’s a divorce in our future, and absolutely nothing will change that.

  “We didn’t finish our discussion.” Graham drops that on me as we ride the elevator back up to his penthouse.

  I glance to where he’s standing next to me. “Because you went all caveman on my friend.”

  Rubbing his jaw, he lets out a light chuckle. “Like hell I did.”

  We didn’t discuss anything after William left the bar because Graham had to take a call. I knew instantly that it was a work issue because of the tone of his voice.

  He slid back into CEO mode without batting an eyelash as I sipped on my martini. As soon as I downed the last drop, he paid the server for our drinks, and we left the bar.

  “You put me in an awkward position,” I point out as we near our floor. “Please don’t announce that we’re married anymore.”

  His gaze searches my face. “I had no idea that you two were friends, Trina. I thought he was hitting on you.”

  “What if he was?” I ask simply. “What if a hot guy hits on me?”

  “You think William is hot? Are you sure you’re just friends with him?” His tone suggests he’s joking, but his expression says otherwise.

  I stomp my foot just as the elevator doors slide open. “You’re insufferable.”

  “That’s a new one.” He chuckles. “Insufferable.”

  I bolt out of the elevator ahead of him, knowing that he likely has his gaze pinned to my ass.

  “I’m going to bed,” I say without glancing back. “It’s been a long day.”

  “I want to talk.” Graham’s voice comes out in a low growl. “We’re not done discussing what happened the other night, Trina.”

  That spins me around to face him. “Yes, we are.”

  “We’re not.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I tilt my head. “I’m done talking about it.”

  “So listen to me talk,” he says quietly. “Give me ten minutes. You can spare that, can’t you, dear?”

  I know he used the endearment to try to get me to smile, but I fight it off. “Ten minutes?”

  “Ten minutes,” he repeats.

  I glance at the watch on my wrist. “Your time starts now.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Graham

  Normally, I perform well under pressure, but I’m struggling to gather my thoughts to present them to my wife.

  I could take the to-the-point approach and tell her that I want to fuck her, but I suspect that will earn me a slap in the face and a premature divorce.

  “Can we do this in the bedroom?” I ask to buy myself more time.

  “The bedroom?” she parrots back with a straight face. “You want us to take this to the bedroom?”

  This is a conversation about all the things I want to do in the bedroom, so it seems fitting.
>
  “Yes,” I answer succinctly and tack on an explanation for good measure. “I don’t want Lloyd to stumble into the middle of this conversation.”

  She thinks about that for a second. “I don’t want him to overhear it either.”

  We finally agree on something.

  “Why don’t we do it in your study?”

  I’ve thought about her asking that very question, but in my imagination, she was naked with her hand between her legs, readying herself for my cock.

  “My study works,” I agree because I’m not a man against compromise.

  She stands grounded in place. “I don’t know where that is.”

  Of course, she doesn’t.

  The tricky maze of hallways in this place is hard to master. I got lost twice when I first moved in.

  I walked into a storage closet in search of a shower.

  The second time, I landed myself in the laundry room when I was looking for my bedroom.

  “Follow me,” I say with hope.

  There’s a chance she’ll bolt in the other direction and head for my bedroom.

  She doesn’t.

  I hear her heels clicking on the floor behind me as I lead my wife to the one room in this vast apartment that feels like home to me.

  “Is that you?” Trina questions as I shut the door to my study.

  I glance over to where she’s pointing at a framed photograph that sits on a shelf.

  Nodding, I move closer to her. “That’s me.”

  She leans closer to the picture. “How old were you in this?”

  I can tell her to the day, to the hour to be more precise, but I go for a general answer. “Sixteen.”

  Her gaze darts to my face. “You look the same but different.”

  I sure as hell hope so.

  I’ve got thirteen years on the scruffy kid in the picture.

  “Who are these other guys in the picture with you?” She smiles. “Your brothers?”

  “Friends.”

  I leave it at that.

  I’m not going to explain who Kavan, Sean, and Harrison are. She’ll never meet them. There’s no reason to go into any detail about them.

  “Are they Buck boys too?” she asks with a hint of a chuckle.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you still friends with them?”

  “I am,” I answer swiftly.

  Chewing on the corner of her bottom lip, she sighs. “Why is it so hard to imagine you as someone’s friend?”

  I huff out a laugh. “Ouch?”

  She doesn’t apologize for the question or attempt to backtrack. Instead, she doubles down. “You don’t strike me as the type of man who allows other people to get close to him.”

  That hits so close to home that I drop my gaze to the floor of my study.

  “No one has ever called the office for you in a personal capacity,” she explains. “I’ve never booked a lunch or dinner reservation for you and a friend.”

  I glance up at her. “I handle those myself.”

  “Right,” she says with a curt nod of her chin. “That’s how you book reservations for dates too.”

  It’s a statement, not a question, so I see no need to respond to it.

  She looks at her watch. “Time is running out.”

  Holding back a smile, I shake my head. “Time starts now. Your attention was diverted because of that picture.”

  Shrugging a shoulder, she looks around. “We didn’t discuss whether distractions factored into our agreement.”

  “They do,” I insist. “So time starts this second.”

  She taps the face of her watch with her fingernail. “Go.”

  “You enjoyed what we did the other night, Trina.”

  Shaking her head, she laughs lightly. “That’s one way to start a discussion.”

  “I’m not lying,” I point out. “You had a good time.”

  “I had a good orgasm,” she corrects me.

  I can’t fight off a smile. “So we agree on that?”

  “It was an orgasm, Graham.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “It was a fleeting moment in time. Then it was over, and you left.”

  “Which was a mistake,” I admit for the second time tonight.

  “It doesn’t matter if it was or not.” She rests her hip against the edge of my desk. “It’s the past.”

  I take a step closer to her. “If I hadn’t left that night…”

  Her hand darts into the air. “But you did, so let’s not go down the what-if road. It serves no purpose.”

  “If I hadn’t left that night,” I begin again as I close the distance between us with measured steps. “We would have fucked.”

  Her gaze drops to my lips. “Says who?”

  I drag my teeth over my bottom lip. “Says me.”

  “You’re too cocky for your own good.”

  “Again, I’m not lying, Trina.” I stop just inches short of where she is. “I would have taken you to bed and fucked you over and over again.”

  She retreats half a step. “That would have been an even bigger mistake.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” she parrots. “We can’t have sex.”

  “Why?” I repeat as I step closer yet.

  “It would complicate this.” Her hand circles the air between us.

  “This is becoming increasingly complicated,” I point out. “We are bound to each other for the moment. I say we make the best of it.”

  Her eyes lock on mine. “There are other women out there, Graham. Judging by what you said, no one turns you down, so why not go find someone else to fuck?”

  “I’m not going to fuck anyone else when I’m married to you.”

  Her eyebrows perk. “You’re not?”

  “This may be a marriage of convenience, but I won’t cross that line,” I stress the last word.

  “You’re not going to sleep with another woman until we’re divorced?”

  If I have to answer a dozen questions to get my point across, I will. “I’m not going to fuck another woman until we’re divorced.”

  Her gaze drops to my mouth. “I didn’t realize that…”

  “That I was going to be committed to you in every possible way?”

  She nods.

  “Let me make this as clear as I can, dear.” I toss her a grin. “The only woman I want to fuck is standing in front of me.”

  “You want me because you can’t have anyone else.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper.

  “I want you because of you,” I say. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about how you looked when you came the other night and those fucking sounds you made. And your pussy, Trina. So soft and so fucking tight.”

  Her hand leaps to my forearm. “Graham, if we…”

  “When we,” I correct her. “When we fuck it won’t change anything.”

  Her gaze searches my face. “We’ll still get divorced as planned?”

  “Nothing changes,” I say the words like I mean them, even though I know they are laced with a lie.

  This marriage has already changed who I am.

  “It’s just sex,” she states clearly.

  She can fool herself into thinking that, but after what we experienced the other night, this connection between us far surpasses a physical act.

  I nod.

  Her hand moves to her forehead. She scrubs it lightly. “I have to think about this.”

  That’s better than a flat out no, so I step aside. “Take all the time you need.”

  Her lips part slightly as she studies my face. “I will.”

  I start toward the door, but her hand on my shoulder stops me. “Graham?”

  I turn to face her again. “Yes?”

  She shakes her head slightly before she lets out a heavy exhale. “I didn’t know that you intended to be faithful to me.”

  I see the way her bottom lip trembles as she waits for my response.

  “I may be a shitty boss, but I want to be a good husband. Even if this marriage will be short
-lived.”

  She nods. “Thank you.”

  I should be the one thanking her for everything she’s done for me, but I can’t find the words to express the depth of my gratitude. I doubt like hell I ever will.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Trina

  I step into my apartment, and suddenly my world feels a whole lot lighter.

  A tear falls onto my cheek as I shut the door behind me.

  I’m not overwhelmed with emotion at the sight of my one and only houseplant or the view of the building next door out of the living room window.

  I’m excited at the prospect of spending my lunch hour here. I started work an hour early today, so that I could bank that time for now. My mom is meeting me here. She spent her morning at the New York Public Library. It’s always been her favorite place in Manhattan.

  She’s going to pick up sandwiches and two lemonades from a deli near the library for us to share.

  I already know what the topic of discussion will be. She’ll reminisce about when I used to live at home.

  Back then, I had so many dreams to fulfill, including meeting a man I’d fall in love with and marry, having kids, and a career path that would eventually see me at the helm of a million or billion dollar company.

  Working at Abdons has been the stepping-stone to that, but it’s becoming blatantly obvious that I’m going to need to search for a new job once I file for divorce.

  I can’t imagine walking into the office every day to face my ex-husband.

  I move toward the kitchen to grab the small watering can that I keep hidden under the sink.

  I fill it with water and relieve the plant of its thirst.

  The soil was bone dry which is a clear sign that I need to circle back here every few days instead of once a week.

  Just as I set the watering can on the table, there’s a soft knock at my door.

  My gaze immediately drops to my left hand and the rings.

  I slide them off and hide them behind the potted plant.

  Another knock sounds, so I smooth my hands over the front of my navy blue skirt and hurry across the floor.

  I swing it open with a flourish expecting to see my mom.