Get Bucked

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  Darby crossed his arms over his chest.

  “What about the Apache?” Darby pushed.

  Apache? What was the Apache?

  I didn’t say that aloud, though, because GQ got thoughtful for a second.

  His eyes turned to study me, assessing me from head to toe.

  “You think she could handle the Apache?” he wondered, flicking his eyes toward Darby.

  Darby turned his gaze to me and nodded once.

  “Did you hear about that almost-bank robbery yesterday?” Darby asked.

  GQ nodded.

  “That was her,” he said. “With the gun.”

  GQ’s brows shot up to his hairline.

  “You’re shitting me,” he said.

  “Nope,” Darby denied. “Not the least bit.”

  “What about the incidents?” GQ asked.

  I sighed.

  “How about y’all start talking in actual sentences that make sense, instead of riddles,” I suggested.

  GQ’s eyes turned to me with a frown.

  “You’re supposed to be quiet and let me be the boss,” he said.

  I shrugged.

  “I’m impatient, set in my ways, and not a girl that you can push around,” I told him honestly. “I grew up in a single-parent household. All I had was my dad. He raised me in a trailer and forced me to do shit that any normal girl wouldn’t do. Trust me when I say, I’ve found it easier just to say what I want and mean what I say.”

  And fuck everyone and anything that didn’t like me the way I was.

  “I like you,” GQ said, turning to Darby. “You’ve got a good one.”

  “She’s not mine,” he said at the same time I said, “I’m not his.”

  GQ snorted as if we’d both just baldly lied to his face.

  “Sure,” he agreed, humor lacing his tone. “I have an opening for a manager at the Apache,” he said, changing the subject. “It’s about half a mile down the road from here. The old drive-in movie theater right down the road from…”

  I frowned. “There isn’t a movie theater in Kilgore.”

  “Not anymore.” He paused. “But there was one a long time ago. I just bought it. I’m turning it into the gem that it used to be. I’m opening it next month.”

  “It’s actually right down the road from where you live, Waylynn,” Darby said. “The place with the big black iron gates.”

  Now that was ringing a bell.

  Excitement started to lace through my body.

  The drive-in was even closer than the diner.

  And a manager position would make me quite a bit of money and also net me a little experience.

  It could definitely work!

  But first…

  “What is the Apache?” I asked. “Why do y’all keep saying it like it’s some kind of secret?”

  GQ’s lips twitched.

  But it was Darby’s outright laughter that had me so interested.

  “When Gibson and I were fifteen,” he said, “we snuck into the Apache.”

  “And…” I pushed.

  “And,” Darby continued, “we crawled over the gate, walked up to the closest spot we could get without being spotted, and then proceeded to watch a porno while people in cars had sex beside us.”

  My mouth dropped open as if I couldn’t quite understand the words that had come out of his mouth. “I’m sorry… what?”

  “The Apache is an adult-only drive-in movie theater,” GQ said. “Or was a long, long time ago. When I purchased it, it was with the intent of reopening it, and making it bigger and better, but also staying true to the original owner’s vision.”

  I scratched my head.

  “And you think I’d make a good manager for that… adult movie theater?” I asked.

  He grinned.

  “Not many people can handle Darby,” he said, tossing Darby an assessing look. “But you seem to have done nicely so far. And I’ve been searching for someone to fill the position. If you have Darby’s recommendation, then I think we’ll make a good fit.”

  I scratched my head again. “When did I get his recommendation?”

  “He came in with you,” GQ said. “He wouldn’t have done that had he not felt that you’d fit.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  I was fairly sure that Darby was following me because he thought it would annoy me.

  He was right.

  It did annoy me.

  Yet I wasn’t going to give him the benefit of knowing that he did.

  Instead I looked at GQ and said, “What would my responsibilities be?”

  Darby snorted and walked toward the bar where he then proceeded to pour himself a beer by leaning over the bar, grabbing a mug, and pulling it straight from the tap.

  GQ ignored him as if Darby did this every single day.

  “At first, hiring people that’ll work with what the business is about. Finding vendors. Setting up shop, so to speak,” he said.

  I didn’t bother to mention that I’d never done anything like that before.

  How hard could it be?

  Chapter 4

  Me: Be careful. Don’t get hurt.

  What he hears: Hi, I’m Johnny Knoxville. Welcome to Jackass.

  -Text from Waylynn to Darby

  Waylynn

  My first day on the job, there was a porno film playing on the big screen as I walked up the front drive.

  I stared, dumbfounded as Darby walked around with his shirt off, in only jeans and his boots, yelling, “I can’t hear any moaning back here!”

  I came to a stop next to Darby, who clearly didn’t seem as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

  “What are you doing?” I asked curiously, unable to take my eyes away from the screen.

  It was early morning, just past six AM, and way too early to be watching a porno.

  At least, I thought, anyway.

  Darby and who I guessed was GQ? Not so much.

  “I rode a horse over here to see what progress Gibson was making on the place,” Darby said. “And now he has me telling him whether I can hear the movie from the farthest speakers.”

  I stared at the speakers that were next to the parking places where cars would park when they watched the movie.

  “Oh,” I said, that making quite a bit of sense. “Is there a reason that you have to be watching a porn while you’re doing the testing?”

  Darby paused, as if that thought had never occurred to him.

  Then he turned and studied me.

  “What else would we watch?” he asked curiously.

  I thought about that for a second, then thought about the least sexy movie I could think of.

  “Finding Nemo?” I suggested.

  He burst out laughing.

  “I think the place might very well combust if an animated movie played over the big screen,” he snickered.

  I grinned.

  “Walk to that side and see if it’s playing,” he ordered.

  Thinking that I needed to get away from his too-sexy shirtless self anyway, I did as he suggested and made my way to the very end of the lot.

  I could vaguely hear the moaning, but I was fairly sure it was from about five rows up, and definitely not from the speaker I was walking next to.

  “How about now?” I heard GQ yell over what sounded like a speaker.

  “No!” Darby yelled.

  “No!” I agreed, cupping my hands around my mouth to project my voice.

  GQ cursed succulently over the loudspeaker.

  “Goddamn piece of filthy shit,” he grumbled. “I’m going to have to hire a goddamn electrician to come out here and fuck with this goddamn bullshit.”

  My lips twitched.

  A few minutes later, we got another ‘how about now.’

  But I hadn’t needed his prompt.

  Why?

  Because the speaker next to my side had come to life, and a loud, “Y
es, fuck me in the ass with that goddamn horse dick” played over the loudspeaker.

  “Umm,” I said. “It works!”

  Darby was yelling, too.

  “Horse dick over here!”

  I snickered and moved forward, meeting Darby in the middle before we made it the rest of the way to the front.

  There, we found GQ on the ground in the dirt beside a gray box that looked like it’d seen better days.

  Wires were hanging out of the gray box, and GQ definitely didn’t look too GQ today.

  Today he looked like he stepped right out of Country magazine.

  He was wearing tight, worn Wranglers, a dirty white t-shirt, a cowboy hat and work boots.

  Goddamn. What did they put in the water around here?

  First Darby and now GQ?

  What had I done to deserve this treatment in life?

  “The speakers work,” Darby confirmed. “Way went all the way to their side and listened, too. You should be good… though, I hate to say this, but I doubt anybody is going to be listening to the sound.”

  GQ snorted and looked up, sweat trickling down his temple.

  “You’re here earlier than I expected you,” he said.

  I shrugged. “I was bored.”

  That was the truth.

  I’d been up since four—insomnia was a goddamn bitch—and had been ready to pull my hair out.

  I’d come to the Apache on the off chance that someone was here.

  That, and I’d wanted to get a good look at it.

  Admittedly, I was insanely curious about an ‘adult drive-in movie theater.’

  “Well, I have the cure for boredom,” he said, pointing at a room beyond where he was standing. “That place needs cleaned out. Then I need to start going through applications.”

  So that was what I did.

  Periodically I’d peek outside to see what the two men were doing, and at one point late in the morning, they’d both lost their shirts.

  I stared, flabbergasted by the strength in both men’s bodies, for a full five minutes before getting back to work.

  Then told myself to get my shit together and stop thinking about the men—one more so than the other—and get back to work.

  I’d sifted through at least forty separate applications, twelve of which got preferential treatment since they were already working for GQ and I thought it’d be nicer to hire from within, before the two men came waltzing through the door.

  I had an old, dilapidated fan blowing on me, and both men came and parked themselves right in between the fan and me.

  I frowned as their smell was wafted in my direction.

  “First order of business,” I said to the two men. “Is get this place fixed up. And air conditioning. ‘Cause otherwise people are gonna walk straight off the job with this heat.”

  GQ snorted.

  “You’re not afraid of a little sweat, are you?” he taunted me.

  I gave him a level look.

  “I’m okay with sweat,” I told him. “But it’s also—” I looked at the thermometer that was on the wall for some reason. “Ninety degrees in here right now, and it’s only eleven in the morning. Not even the hottest part of the day. It’s not safe working conditions and you know it. If you hire anybody older than me, it’s going to be a breaking point for them.”

  “Then we’ll hire young people,” he suggested.

  I rolled my eyes. “Like that’s not illegal or anything.”

  He grinned then gestured to the stack of applications in front of me. “You can start calling them and arranging interviews. Work them in when you can. And you’re right. Hold the interviews at the coffee shop in town.”

  I looked at him quizzically. “I don’t have a way to get to the coffee shop in town unless you want to pay me to walk there. And it takes me about forty-five minutes.”

  He squinted. “You can take my truck while you’re working.”

  I didn’t argue.

  That sounded like a good idea. Plus, getting into town with a vehicle would give me a chance to get some supplies.

  “Deal,” I said. “When do you want me to start doing this?”

  He looked at his watch. “Now.”

  I rolled my eyes and looked at the man at GQ’s side.

  He’d been silent during our exchange, watching but not interrupting.

  When he saw that he had my attention, he tilted his head and stared.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  I was.

  I was always hungry, though. That wasn’t a new thing for me.

  “Are you buying?” I teased, batting my eyelashes.

  “No,” he immediately disagreed. “GQ is since he worked my ass off.”

  GQ barked out a laugh. “You can’t call me that.”

  “Sure I can, GQ,” Darby teased.

  I looked at Darby and decided to poke the bear.

  I wasn’t sure why, but shit, that smile of his was making my heart do funny things. I needed it off his face, pronto.

  “What are you smiling at, sunshine?” I taunted. “You’re not much better. I’ve seen you dress at school. You don’t look like a rancher at all. You in your golf pants and polos.”

  Darby bit his lip and scowled.

  “I was at school,” he defended himself.

  I shrugged. “And? I was at school, too. You didn’t see me in my Sunday finery.”

  Darby rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

  Chapter 5

  Cowboys are dangerous. You should never look at them from the belt down.

  -Rules to live by

  Darby

  “Found out who bought that land out from under us,” I said as I walked into the house that I shared with my brothers and their wives.

  “Don’t you ever wear clothes?” Ace asked.

  I looked down at my shirtless self and shrugged. “It’s hot. So sue me.”

  It was hot.

  In fact, it hit ninety-eight degrees today, and my old truck didn’t have an air conditioner.

  What it did have was a really good engine, fairly good gas mileage, and no car payment.

  So I kept it despite the fact that it was hot as fuck during the summer.

  “Who bought it?” Callum, my middle brother, asked.

  “Waylynn Jennings’ father,” I answered.

  “Waylynn?” Candy, one of my sister-in-laws, perked up.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Yes, Waylynn.”

  Candy’s smile went wide at that news.

  “I liked her,” she said. “I, for one, will be happy to have her around.”

  “We weren’t really interested in that property, anyway,” Ace said as he too came in the kitchen shirtless.

  Codie, Ace’s wife, walked in from the other direction, took one good look at her sweaty husband, and grimaced.

  “Don’t you dare come near me,” she ordered. “I will literally geld you with this spoon.”

  Codie was five months pregnant with their first child.

  She was also wielding a spoon that had such a big heaping pile of peanut butter on it that it was teetering precariously.

  “Why, honey?” Ace drawled. “You don’t want to hug me?”

  She waved her spoon at him.

  “I literally just washed my hair,” she said. “And I’m going to kill you if you make me have to redo it. Do you realize how hot it is to have to blow dry your hair in the middle of the summer?”

  Ace laughed as he stalked toward her, uncaring of her threats.

  I walked over to Desi, Callum’s wife, and peeked over her shoulder to see what she was making.

  “Pie?” I asked hopefully.

  “Actually,” Desi said as she put the final piece of crust onto the pie she was working on. “It’s not the type of pie I can tell you’re hoping for. This is chicken pot pie. But I’m making a Texas Sheet Cake for dessert.”

  That actually sounded pretty good.

&
nbsp; Only, it was hot as hell and baking eighteen of the pot pies was going to make it unbearably hot in here.

  “You could take it over to the new house and cook this in half the time,” I suggested. “They got all the appliances plugged in today.”

  Desi’s eyes lit up. “They did?”

  I nodded. “I went by there on my way here. That’s why I took my shirt off. I rubbed against the walls and they were still wet. But the ovens were in. The fridge is in, too.”

  That’s when Desi practically started to drool.

  See, when Desi first started cooking for us, she’d done it because we were all hopeless bastards when it came to cooking. She’d taken pity on our asses and had taken over cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the entire crew that now worked the Valentine Ranch.

  And though, technically, there were only seven of us that ate here in the kitchen, there were still at least twelve hands that slept and ate in the bunkhouse most days that had to be fed as well.

  “Let’s do it,” she urged, clapping her hands. “Is the fridge cold?”

  I nodded. “The workers were storing their drinks in it when I left.”

  She hissed. “They better not have touched my brand-new fridge!”

  Apparently, there was something special about it. It just looked like a fridge to me, but who was I to say anything?

  “It’s a subarctic,” she continued as if I’d actually asked the question. “It’s a professional model. That thing cost fifteen grand!”

  Now that got me going.

  “I’ll tell them to use the barn’s fridge tomorrow,” I said. “Sounds expensive if they break it.”

  She was nodding her head.

  “The kitchen and appliances being done means that they’re almost done and we can move in soon?” Desi asked.

  That question was directed at Candy, whose father was responsible for the building process.

  “Not yet,” she disagreed. “I’ll bet there’s at least another month until it’s fully done.”

  There were groans all around.

  “It’s not like you’re out of a place to stay,” Candy pointed out.

  That was true.

  I mean, I’d walked through the place today, and the air conditioner felt like a fucking dream.

  The place we were in right now wasn’t a dream.

  It was a packed-full nightmare that was housing way too many people in a too-small space.