Taming Mr. Right

by Tonya Kappes

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  TONYA

  KAPPES

  Taming

  Mr. Right

  A Bluegrass Romance

  Book Two

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  About the Author

  Also by Tonya Kappes

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Moving day. Who in their right mind loved moving day? Not. Me.

  The old farm truck groaned around the curves of Versailles Road. Through my rearview mirror I kept an eye on the furniture in the bed of the truck that I had stacked up sky-high with only a thin rope tying it all together.

  “Stay put. Just a few more miles,” I warned the teetering bed frame.

  I swept a strand of my brown hair that didn’t make it into the ponytail behind my ear as the worries of moving put knots in my stomach.

  I had lived in my own house off of Nicholasville Road since I had graduated from college. I loved my two-bedroom, two-bath patio home with a dine-in kitchen. It was perfect for what I needed at the time. Plus the back yard was fenced in which gave me privacy. But I was a freak about living alone. I had gone as far as nailing the windows shut and digging holes around the perimeter for the multiple spare keys I had buried in case I got locked out of my house and needed one.

  Crazy. I knew it was, but to me, I’d rather be safe then sorry. Though my house wasn’t on the best side of town it was what I could afford since I was just a farm hand at The Lady B Farm. The farm that was like home to me.

  With my new job position and raise at the farm—I was now in charge of breaking the new foals—I felt like it was a good idea to live in one of the newly remodeled cottages on the property, which were very secluded and safe, giving me the privacy I loved.

  Plus my best friend, Luvie Beiderman, was living in the cottage next to mine. After all, it was her family’s farm.

  Nineties music blared on the radio. I rolled down the old truck windows to let the wind blow in, lifting my spirits.

  “Livin’ la vida loca!” I sang along with Ricky Martin at the top of my lungs and I couldn’t stop a little dance move or two. Excitement washed all over me at the thought of living exactly where I loved being most. With the horses.

  I beat the wheel with my thumb along to Ricky’s beats. I turned down the radio when I noticed a Dodge dually truck pulled over on the side of the road with the hood propped up.

  I geared the old truck down and drove slowly past. I was constantly pulling over to help a driver who was in distress on these country roads. I was lucky in the mechanic department and knew just enough to get a truck up and running.

  “Nice,” I whispered when I passed and looked at my side-view mirror as I got a good view of the backside of the guy who was hunkered down under the hood.

  The view wasn’t bad from the waist down. My eyes zeroed in on the light blue wranglers that fit perfectly over the guy’s backside. I gazed down and silently groaned. I loved a guy in cowboy boots.

  In fact, I had a list of three things that made up the perfect guy. One, he had to love horses as much as I did. Two, he had to wear cowboy boots. Three, he had to love my momma as much as I did.

  Three simple things. That was it. Unfortunately, those three things didn’t exist. At least not in my world. That was why I had thrown myself into my work all these years. Even if my momma did drop hints about wanting grandchildren one day.

  I was practically rolling along when he turned around to find me gawking. His confident set of shoulders, the firm features, and compelling blue eyes watched me intently.

  “Shit.” I wished he hadn’t looked up because he might have been the one stranded driver I might not have helped. But those eyes. “You look as good as your ass,” I muttered.

  Those blue eyes showed intelligence and an independent spirit I appreciated in a man.

  “Shit. What is wrong with you?” I asked myself. I pulled the truck on the shoulder of the road and threw the gearshift in park. “He is probably taken, not that I’m on the look out.”

  Who was I kidding? I took a quick glance in the mirror and retucked the strand behind my ear. Too bad I didn’t bother with putting on mascara or longer shorts this morning.

  The old truck door squeaked when I opened it and the dusty gravel made a plumb of dust when my boots hit the ground. I tugged on my short cut-off jean shorts and untucked my shirt hoping it would hang a little longer to cover my butt, but no such luck.

  “You need some help?” I hollered out and walked a little closer.

  The closer I got, the faster my heart beat. There was a plaid shirt dangling off the side of the open hood. The muscles rippling under his white shirt quickened my pulse, forcing me to take a few quick breaths.

  Get it together, Vivian. My head was trying to wrap around the situation. You’ve done this a million times before.

  Only the million times before it was pimply-faced teenagers or old people who never checked their fuel levels and ran out of gas. I kept the red plastic cans in the back of the old truck full at all times.

  “I knew I should have kept my old junker like yours.” He gestured toward my work truck with the wrench in his hand. “Thanks for offering though.”

  He held his head up with pride.

  “I’d be happy to take a look.” I shrugged and curled up on my toes and looked under the hood.

  “Darlin’, I think I got this.” His face melted into a buttery smile.

  My eyes narrowed. He thought I was some dumb gal who belonged in the kitchen. I’d seen the look many times before. It was written all over his face.

  “Vivian. My name is Vivian.” I didn’t know why I had always taken offense to men who enjoyed calling women names like Sugar, Darlin’, Sweetie. But I was not a Darlin’.

  “Well, Vivian,” he laughed in a deep, jovial way. “Go ahead. Let me know what you see that I don’t.” Amusement set in his eyes.

  I quickly looked away, trying not to hit him or get lost in those eyes.

  I rolled up on my toes and peered inside at the engine. I tugged on a few of the hoses, but everything looked to be attached and in order.

  “Where are the keys?” I stuck my hand out for them. I figured I’d take a shot at starting it to investigate the sound of the turnover before I plunked myself on the ground and dragged myself under the big hunk of fancy metal to see what was going on underneath.

  “In the ignition.” He nodded his head. “Darlin’—” he started, but I glared, “Vivian, it’s not going to start,” he added with mock severity.

  “I’ll take a look for myself if you want my help.” My eyes grew. I wasn’t going to take his shit. “I’m more than happy to leave you sitting right here on the side of the road until the next person comes along. And God knows when that will be.”

  He looked at the large, stainless steel, fancy watch on his wrist. With a slight tilt of his head, he pointed for me to go ahead. Obviously, he needed to be somewhere and so did I.

  The driver’s door slid open with ease, unlike my old farm truck and I hopped in, sliding on
the leather seat. I held on to the steering wheel so I wouldn’t go crashing into the passenger side door.

  “Nice and new,” I murmured, looking around. It was one of those fancy new trucks with all the bells and whistles. “Here goes nothing,” I whispered and turned the key one click. The one click that lights up the dash. My eyes scanned all the red lights to see if any were popping out at me. When I saw what was wrong, I smiled from ear-to-ear. “Idiot.”

  I turned the key off and jumped right back out.

  “You have to turn the key to try to turn it on,” he mocked me again.

  I walked past him and didn’t bother looking at him. Obviously he was hot and good-looking but dumb.

  “I have exactly what you need in my truck,” I said over my shoulder and strutted a little more.

  I could feel his eyes staring at my ass. I might not ever see this guy again, but I wanted to give him something to remember.

  I pushed back the bed frame in the truck bed and reached in the old truck for the trusty red plastic gas can.

  “You have got to be kidding me?” His voice was low and smooth.

  “Gas.” I held the plastic red can in the air. “You need some diesel, Sugar.”

  “Touché.” He smiled benignly, as if he was dealing with a temperamental child. He reached out for the can. “I think I can take it from here.”

  I held it out. Our hands touched, creating a little static spark. My body tingled from the contact. I withdrew quickly.

  My eyes slid to his, noticing the devilish look he wore. I looked away.

  “You can keep it.” I waved him off and started back to my truck.

  My heart told me this was dangerous and my life had no room for dangerous. I was at the peak of my career. I was a manager of multi-million dollar farm that was in a bit of financial trouble and I had no room for social calls. Besides, men like this cowboy were always taken.

  I didn’t bother turning around to see what he was saying. I hopped back in the old truck and veered back onto Versailles Road.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I beat the wheel as I continued on to the farm.

  I had been so careful not to be attracted to any man over the past few years. My job was my life. The horses. The farm. The business.

  “May I help you?” A voice echoed out of the black box after I pulled up and pushed the button at the entrance of the Lady B’s wrought-iron gate.

  “Hey, Momma.” It was good to hear her voice.

  My mom, Lillian, had been working for the Beidermans for years. She used to be a seamstress at a local dry-cleaners and always altered Lucia Beiderman’s clothes. Lucia loved my mom so much, she hired her to be their housekeeper, which might have seemed like a bad job, but it wasn’t. The Beidermans treated us like family and that was how Luvie and I had become best friends.

  We spent many nights playing all around this farm. Like I said, the Lady B had become my home and moving here was all part of it.

  I felt like I was coming home.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Momma called out and buzzed the gate to open.

  “What the hell?” I asked when I saw cowboy and his fancy Dodge pulling up behind me.

  “What did you say, young lady?” Momma scolded me.

  One thing Momma didn’t put up with was cursing and I did my fair share of it.

  Cowboy saw me staring at him in the rearview mirror. An irresistibly devastating grin crossed his face and he gave a slight wave along with a nod.

  I threw the old truck in gear and he followed right along behind me.

  Chapter Two

  Leonard Beiderman was waiting by the barn where our offices were. He had on his usual khaki pants, polo shirt, and had his hair combed over to cover up his bald spot. His glasses sat down on the edge of his nose.

  Technically, I wasn’t working today and Leonard wasn’t going to be in the office, which made me wonder what was going on.

  The farm was fine without me there for one day, even though we were heading into racing season and had a few contenders for the big dance. The Triple Crown. And we had an open trainer position since I was taking the lead on managing breaking the foals side of the Lady B’s business. It was hard to be the lead breaker and the manager at the same time.

  “Clay?” Leonard didn’t pay me a bit of attention as he hustled over to cowboy’s truck.

  “Yes, sir,” the cowboy said and extended his hand. His fancy watch made a mirrored image on my face. “Clay Preston.”

  Though Clay had put his plaid shirt back on over top of his white tee, the muscles underneath were stamped on my brain.

  Clay Preston.

  “Umm. . .” I rushed over to the conversation. “Clay Preston from Houston, Texas?”

  He nodded.

  “You aren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow and we have a full schedule today,” I said.

  Clay Preston was a candidate for the open training position. His resume was excellent but we were going out on a limb to interview him. He was out of our budget.

  “I can see that.” He pointed to the old truck. “Mr. Beiderman knew I was coming.”

  My jaw tensed. I turned my head to Leonard.

  “Vivian, Clay had called to say he was going arrive in town a day early and I didn’t want to bother you since you were moving. I decided to talk with him,” Leonard said. “You can go on and get settled. I think Luvie is waiting to help.”

  “No.” I smiled. “This is part of my job and I would have been more than happy to accommodate Mr. Preston if Mr. Preston would have called me directly like the email had stated. I’m sorry Mr. Preston bothered you, Mr. Beiderman. He obviously doesn’t know what a busy man you are.” I took a deep breath and headed to the office door.

  When I didn’t hear footsteps behind me, I turned back around. Both men were staring at me as if I had two heads.

  “Well?” I pointed to my over-loaded truck full of furniture. “As you can see, I don’t have all day.”

  If Clay Preston really wanted the job, he would follow me. If not. . .that would be far better for me. I wasn’t sure how I would be able to work around someone who looked like him. He would definitely be considered a job hazard.

  As suspected, Leonard and Clay followed me into my office.

  I flipped the lights on and took a quick look out the window. The office was connected to the barn and the right wall was one big window that overlooked the stables so I could see what was going on throughout the day and that we were on schedule.

  Ahem, Leonard cleared his throat. “I hope I have not overstepped my boundaries, but after looking at Clay’s resume and talking with him on the phone, I hired him.”

  Slowly, I turned around and suddenly felt like I didn’t even exist or that my position didn’t matter.

  “Mr. Preston,” I looked at him directly and tried to conceal the half-startled wariness in the bottom of my heart. “Can you please give Mr. Beiderman and myself a moment alone?”

  Without hesitation and without allowing him to refuse, I walked over to the door and stood with my hand planted on it. I kept my eyes forward in fear I would stare at his rump in those jeans when he walked out, but slammed it shut once he was almost out.

  Leonard put his hands out in front of him. The creases on the outside of his eyes deepened.

  “Before you go a little cuckoo on me, I have to tell you that if I had to replace you, Clay is that replacement.”

  Blood slid through my veins like cold needles. I took a deep breath to help clear my thoughts and actions before I did or said something I couldn’t take back. I took the lighter out of my back pocket and lit the relaxation candle I had gotten from my Zen childhood friend Millie.

  “Vivian, please give him a chance.” Leonard took a step closer and I stuck my hand out to stop him.

  Leonard was more than a boss to me. He was family. The closest thing I had ever had to a father. In fact, the first ever Lady B scholarship was given to me after I graduated from high school. Truth be told, I knew it was only e
stablished because I couldn’t afford to go to college and the Beidermans treated me and Momma like relatives. But the scholarship stuck and was a great feather in Mrs. Beiderman’s cap among her social circle, so every year one lucky local high school student was awarded a full scholarship to the University of Kentucky.

  “You can’t just hire someone by looking at a piece of paper.” I shook my head. That was one thing I did learn in my business classes. “You have to interview them, check out their references.”

  “Vivian, I feel it right here.” Leonard tapped his finger against his heart. “It’s never strayed me before.”

  “This is your farm. Not mine.” I inhaled knowing I wasn’t going to win and that I was going to have to accept the fact that Clay Preston was going to have a place in my life. But was it a place I wanted him to be?

  “It matters to me that you are happy.” He took another step forward. “You are just like a daughter to me. One day,” he spread his arms out, “you and Luvie will own all of this. You matter.”

  “I can’t do my job or been seen as the boss if you go behind my back and hire trainers if I haven’t seen them in action.” Not that I wouldn’t mind seeing Clay in action, I would. He was going to be one hell of a distraction.

  “Fine, you tell him that he is on a trial period and see for yourself.” Leonard clasped his hands in front of him. There was satisfaction on his face.

  “Besides, we are going to have to have someone here that knows something about training when I send you to Texas.” Leonard had been working on a deal with a Sheikh on the Sheikh’s new stallion. He even let the Sheikh board the stallion at Lady B for free. Plus Leonard had practically promised the Sheikh that the stallion would be a Triple Crown winner. “Clay is the best damn handler in the states. Besides you of course.”

  “How bad is the Lady B in trouble?” I asked. There were a lot of behind-the-scenes things I wasn’t privy to, yet.

  “With this modern technology and all the electrodes they are putting on horses, plus all the new supplements they are putting in food, the Lady B is behind the times.” The worry in Leonard’s eyes dripped down his face and rested in the frown on his lips. “I believe in good old-fashioned horse-breaking. And if I want to keep the farm reputable, I’m going to have to seal the deal with the Sheikh. Clay can work with Brilliance and break him before the meeting I’m going to send you to.”