Junkyard Dog

by Hunter, Bijou

  JUNKYARD DOG

  Bijou Hunter

  Copyright © 2016 Bijou Hunter

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  *****

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  For more information about this series and author visit:

  http://www.bijouhunterbooks.com

  Cover Design

  Photographer: Eugenio Marongiu

  Source: Shutterstock

  Dedication

  Freckles, Tigger, Pooh, and Roo for owning my heart

  Mustang Sally for the millions of pep talks

  Candy Girl Miranda for keeping me sane and helping me grow

  Saucy Sarah and Jazzy Jaimie for being beta reading babes

  Naughty Nicole for her kind heart and endless energy

  Jim Croce for the inspiration of “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown”

  Book Summary

  Angus Hayes is as mean as a junkyard dog. Well, that’s the rumor Candy Wilburn hears before taking the job as his assistant. Hayes doesn’t disappoint. He’s a giant man with a big mouth and a bigger ego. In the town of White Horse, what the gorgeous and dangerous Hayes wants, he gets. Now he wants his sassy assistant.

  Candy has no doubt Hayes will make a great lover, but she doesn’t want to be her boss’s booty call. At first anyway. Once he shifts from boss to friend and lover, Candy falls hard. Now she can only hope the filthy-mouthed outsider she loves can open his heart and learn to trust.

  Table of Contents

  ONE - CANDY

  TWO - CANDY

  THREE - CANDY

  FOUR - HAYES

  FIVE - CANDY

  SIX - HAYES

  SEVEN - CANDY

  EIGHT - HAYES

  NINE - HAYES

  TEN - CANDY

  ELEVEN - CANDY

  TWELVE - CANDY

  THIRTEEN - HAYES

  FOURTEEN - CANDY

  FIFTEEN - CANDY

  SIXTEEN - HAYES

  SEVENTEEN - CANDY

  EIGHTEEN - HAYES

  NINETEEN - CANDY

  TWENTY - HAYES

  TWENTY ONE - CANDY

  TWENTY TWO - CANDY

  TWENTY THREE - HAYES

  TWENTY FOUR - CANDY

  TWENTY FIVE - HAYES

  TWENTY SIX - CANDY

  TWENTY SEVEN - CANDY

  TWENTY EIGHT - HAYES

  TWENTY NINE - CANDY

  THIRTY - HAYES

  THIRTY ONE - CANDY

  THIRTY TWO - HAYES

  THIRTY THREE - CANDY

  THIRTY FOUR - HAYES

  THIRTY FIVE - CANDY

  THIRTY SIX - HAYES

  THIRTY SEVEN - CANDY

  THIRTY EIGHT - HAYES

  THIRTY NINE - CANDY

  FORTY - CANDY

  FORTY ONE - HAYES

  FORTY TWO - CANDY

  EPILOGUE - HAYES

  EPILOGUE - CANDY

  ABOUT BIJOU

  ONE - CANDY

  I’ve only heard horrible things about Angus Hayes. He’s a ruthless man and all-around terrible person. He’s often compared to a junkyard dog. The asshole apparently rules the small industrial town of White Horse with an iron fist. After hearing so many bad things about him, I’m not surprised the bastard can’t keep an assistant. Lack of social skills aside, Hayes offers a solid salary and full medical for the position, and I’m lured to give the job a try.

  His office is a concrete mass likely capable of withstanding a natural disaster or zombie apocalypse. The front door weighs, at least, fifty pounds, and I struggle to open the damn thing. Inside, I find a large front office filled with stacked boxes and discarded furniture. Before I wonder if I’ve stumbled into a storage unit, a woman pops her head up and stares shocked at me.

  “Are you Candy Wilburn?”

  “Yes.”

  “You came,” the frazzled blonde says, gesturing me closer. “A lot of people chicken out when they have interviews with him.”

  I check my simple black blouse for fuzzies and then ask, “And you are?”

  “Oh, I’m just the temp. A few girls at the agency and I trade off days here. No one can deal with him for…” The woman’s eyes widen. “I’m not sure if I should warn you or if warning you will make you run.”

  “I don’t run especially not in these shoes,” I say, glancing at my slightly scuffed black heels.

  The woman follows my gaze down to my shoes and then she focuses on my face long enough to lie. “He’s not so bad.”

  I slide off my jacket and shake out my long, blonde hair. “I’m ready whenever he is.”

  The woman hurries to the back room and mumbles something. Hayes yells that he can’t hear a fucking thing she’s saying. I jump at the sound of his booming voice and wonder if he’s hard of hearing.

  After a minute, the woman returns looking extra rattled. “He’s ready for you.”

  “He isn’t naked, is he? I’d like to prepare for whatever weird behavior this guy might pull.”

  “No, he’s not weird. Just…” She pauses and considers her words. “He’s high maintenance.”

  “Aren’t all men?” I ask, but she only stares at me. “Can I go back now?”

  Nodding, she says nothing. Her fear doesn’t bode well for me, but unless the guy is handsy, I’m taking the job. Hell, I’ll put up with handsy if he adds vision to my benefits package.

  When I enter, Angus Hayes is standing with his back to me. The guy is huge at over six and a half feet. No wonder the ceilings are tall in his bunker office. His hair is nearly black with a few stray grays. Going for a lumberjack look, he’s wearing a flannel shirt, blue jeans, and hiker boots. I suspect he shops at a special store for giants. Will part of my job involve picking up his oversized clothes?

  Hayes turns to me and frowns like I’m annoying him. His people skills are stellar right off the bat.

  “Wilburn?” he asks, sitting in a monster-sized chair behind a messy as hell desk. I’ve never seen so many post-it notes in my life.

  “I prefer Candy.”

  “What’s that short for?”

  “Candy.”

  “Your mother didn’t love you much, did she?”

  “My mother adored me,” I say, sitting across from him. “She just loved sweets more.”

  Hayes doesn’t react. “You don’t have any experience running an office.”

  “That’s not the most important fact about me.”

  “What is it then?”

  My brown eyes find his nearly black ones, and I hold his gaze. “I’m excellent at tolerating assholes.”

  The corners of Hayes’s mouth curves upward. “You suck at interviews.”

  “You suck at keeping employees.”

  Hayes looks at my resume. “Did you hear about that all the way from Cincinnati?”

  “My sister lives in White Horse.”

  “What’s her name?” he asks before throwing up his hand. “Let me fucking guess. Your sister is Honey Mayer.”

  “Mom loved her sugar.”

  Hayes finally smiles. “I know everyone in my town.”

  “And they all know you. Honey said you haven’t kept an assistant for more than a few weeks. Why do you think that is?”

  Still smiling, he leans forward. “I don’t suffer fools.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Where are you living now? Can’t imagine there’s much space at the Mayer house.”

  “We stayed there for a few days, but her husband kicked us out.”

/>   “How fucking come?”

  Shrugging, I consider my sister’s bad taste in men. “I mentioned he was an asshole, and he didn’t take it as well as you did.”

  “No, I suspect he wouldn’t. Andrew Mayer is a thin skinned fucker.”

  “Among other things.”

  Hayes studies me for a minute, and I can see him figuring things out. He knows I’ve worked as a filing clerk and data entry. I’ve never managed anything in my entire life unless he considers my kids as employees and my house as a business.

  “Where are you staying now?” he finally asks.

  “We’re at the Hilltop Inn. You know, the place that’s nowhere near a hill, let alone on top of it.”

  “Who the fuck is we?”

  “Me and my twins.”

  “They're not babies, are they?” he asks full of disgust. “I hate babies.”

  “They’re nine.”

  Still irritated, he asks, “Girls or boys?”

  “One of each.”

  “Do they get sick a lot?”

  “No, but I won’t pretend I won’t ditch work if they need me.”

  “Fair enough, but I won’t baby you just because you forgot to take the fucking pill. Understand?”

  “Do your medical benefits include vision?” I ask, standing up. “The woman on the phone didn’t know.”

  “Sit the fuck down!” he hollers.

  “No,” I casually respond while sliding on my jacket. “I need to get back to my kids before the thin-skinned asshole returns from work.”

  Crossing his arms, he glares at me. “So you’re walking away from the job then?”

  “No, you’re giving me the job. I’ll start tomorrow. See you then.”

  Hayes jumps up from his desk and lunges to stop me from walking out of the door.

  “There’s one fucking boss in this fucking office,” he growls at me.

  Noticing his shirt collar is crooked, I reach up and fix it. “I appreciate height in my bosses. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Hayes glares hard at me, but he’s all bluster. I know he won’t hurt me except for possibly blowing out my eardrums from all of his hollering.

  “Be here at eight,” he says, relenting when I refuse to.

  Once Hayes steps aside, I walk past him. “That’ll work until the kids start school. Then I’ll come in at nine.”

  I hear Hayes grunt behind me. The woman at the front flinches when he slams the door, but I only keep walking. Based on the mess of boxes, I have a lot of work waiting for me here. That’ll wait for tomorrow. For tonight, I’m taking the kids out to dinner to celebrate my new job.

  TWO - CANDY

  I’ve never been to an A&W restaurant before. Spotting one down the road from the hotel, the twins want to try something new. The menu is split between A&W and Kentucky Fried Chicken. I end up with a burger and coleslaw.

  “How was spending time with your aunt?” I ask them as we sit at a small table in the nearly empty fast food restaurant.

  Cricket shrugs, causing her light brown hair to fall on her face. She wraps the strands behind her ear. “It’s loud there.”

  I glance at Chipper sitting to my side. He has my blond hair. Both kids have my dark brown eyes. I don’t see much of their father in them, which is fine. He isn’t much of a looker. What he lacks in appearance and personality, he made up for with his family’s wealth.

  Toby Eddison isn’t ugly, just plain. Everything about him exudes ordinary. Toby is the complete opposite of a man like Angus Hayes. One disappears into the crowd while the other looms over it before sending everyone screaming in terror.

  “What about you?” I ask Chipper.

  “Aunt Honey cried today.”

  “She has too many kids,” Cricket announces.

  “Four isn’t too many,” I say. “I planned on having more.”

  “Then why didn’t you?” Cricket asks, challenging me.

  My daughter is full of bluster, just like me. Chipper is more laidback. Both of them are handling the move well, but starting school will likely put them in bad moods.

  “Twins are a lot of work,” I say, stealing one of her fries.

  Cricket smiles. “Double the dirty diapers.”

  “Double the barf,” Chipper adds.

  “Double the hugs,” I say, cuddling my boy and winking at my girl. “I’ll get you later.”

  Cricket smiles wider. “Is your boss mean like Aunt Honey said?”

  “He’s a jerk, but I’m not scared.”

  “Me either,” Cricket says, thinking fear is the worst thing a person can feel.

  “Do we have to stay at Aunt Honey’s again tomorrow?” Chipper asks.

  “Yeah. I need to be at the office by eight.”

  “We’re old enough to stay at the hotel alone,” Cricket offers and then adds when I roll my eyes. “Add our ages together and we’re eighteen. We could even vote.”

  Chipper laughs with a mouth full of burger. “I’m voting for the guy with the best hair.”

  I kiss his head. “The law doesn’t add your ages. If I leave you alone, the po-po might get involved.”

  Cricket narrows her eyes. I think she’s catching onto how I always use the law as an excuse. I’m never the bad guy! It’s the coppers!

  “Soon you’ll be in school, and we’ll get a house. Things will be ironed out in a few weeks.”

  Nodding, Cricket returns to eating. I know she’s nervous about school. They’ve gone to the same private school all of their lives. We’d also lived in the same place. Everything was the same for so long, and now nothing is anymore.

  “You’ll like it here soon,” I say, more to reassure myself than them.

  Chipper nods. Cricket doesn’t. They’re tense after spending time in my sister’s tension-filled house. Life for Honey is very different than my life. Her husband crushes her more every day. Her kids act out, and she’s clearly overwhelmed. Throughout all of the bullshit, she smiles and claims to be happy.

  We were never close growing up. She was too passive and played life too safe. As the middle child, I had to be loud to be noticed. I took what I needed, or I wouldn’t get anything. Most of all, I’ve faced my family’s crappy genetics the way Honey never could.

  For generations, we’ve been duped. Used and discarded. My family gravitates toward bad people. Every relationship in my family is the same. One is an asshole; the other is their victim. My family members are always the victims. We can’t help wanting toxic people. This behavior killed my little brother Peat. It also drove my mom to an early grave. Now, the need to love the unlovable looks ready to destroy Honey.

  Acceptance was the key to overcoming. I know I want bad men. I’m also drawn to friends who use and neglect me. Unlike Honey, I never married an asshole. I refuse to stay with anyone I con myself into thinking I love. I choose to be the asshole, rather than the victim. I take what I need and then leave before the tables turn.

  Toby Eddison gave me twins even though he didn’t want kids. His wealthy parents will ensure Chipper and Cricket can afford any college they want. When the Eddison grandparents die one day, the twins will receive a nice chunk of their estate.

  These days, a new grandchild rules the estate. Sensing the tides turning, I decided to bail on the train wreck waiting to happen. I hadn’t allowed myself to be shit on by Toby’s recent bride. No need to beg for crumbs when I can take my kids and start fresh.

  Angus Hayes is an asshole, but I know how to deal with them. I don’t fear bad tempers or big mouths. When Honey’s douche husband tried to put me in my place, I told him where to go. The kids might hate the hotel, but they like it better than remaining in that house. They already know the difference between being the asshole and victim. Honey will always be the latter.

  I plan to raise my children to take what they want from life. The Wilburn family has known only misery, but the twins will put an end to that history.

  THREE - CANDY

  I arrive for my first work day with a queasy stom
ach from eating too many crappy hotel scrambled eggs. I sip weak coffee from my “Best Mom” coffee mug and wait for Angus Hayes to arrive at the office.

  I managed to get the kids up at six. After we finish eating breakfast, I drop them off at Honey’s house. My sister looks like absolute crap and the purple lump on her forehead doesn't help. Honey really isn’t a morning person.

  Even cold and nauseous, I feel great while sitting in my car in the Hayes, Inc. parking lot. A new start always invigorates me. Once I get my first paycheck, I’ll put down a deposit on an apartment and get the twins settled. Life will be great. No worries. Anyone who says differently needs a swift kick in the ass.

  Hayes nearly crashes his ugly, black monster truck into my gold Hyundai Tucson. I suspect he’s trying to intimidate me. As a mother of a boy, I’d never want to stigmatize an entire gender, yet men are stupid.

  I climb out of the car and wave at him as if he hadn’t behaved like an asshole a minute earlier.

  “Morning, boss,” I say, carrying my bag lunch and coffee mug.

  Hayes isn’t a morning person either. He glares at me, and I wonder if he’s forgotten who I am. A moment passes before he walks to the front door.

  “If you work out, I’ll give you a key.”

  “Okay.”

  His dark eyes narrow menacingly, and I suspect he isn’t a fan of my morning peppiness. I smile at his irritation as he opens the door.

  “I didn’t know if there was a dress code,” I say, following him inside. “I figured since I’ll be moving around all these dusty boxes and organizing things that jeans would be fine.”

  “You’re not moving shit.”

  Hayes stomps to a small room connected to the front office. I follow him because I don’t know what else to do. Leaning around his wide shoulder to see what he’s doing, I realize we’re in a break room. He hits the button on the coffee pot.

  “I like my fucking coffee black.”

  I study Hayes and find him quite attractive. His sleepy eyes even make him appear soft and a little bit vulnerable. His jaw remains tight, and I realize he wants me to respond to his coffee detail.

  “Most men do,” I say, stepping back. “Do you want some now?”

  “Yes. Make it fucking strong.”