Hott and Taken (The Hott Brothers Book 1)

by Leah Sharelle

  Unforgettable and unforgivable hurt.

  Shooing away the pesky vision of my hot arsehole husband from my mind, I trudged up the long dirt path to the house, once again mentally noting the worn peeling paint and the tin sheets on the roof that needed replacing or at the very least nailing down.

  “Mallory?” I called out the minute I closed the back door, the warmth of an open fire working its magic on my freezing skin. Tossing my leather gloves on the kitchen table, and shrugging out of my thick jacket, I took off in search of my sister.

  “Mal?”

  “In the living room!” her shout came back, of course sounding pissed off and annoyed.

  Hell’s bells. And here we go.

  Entering the large room our parents used to call the Great Room for some reason, neither Mallory or I ever understood, I caught sight of my sister sitting on the couch a bundle of blankets on the other side of her. My heart constricted in my chest, as it always did whenever my son was near.

  “How is he?” I asked quietly, walking over to the fire place and getting as close as possible to the warmth without burning my butt.

  “Tired, thank goodness,” Mallory replied with a loud sigh, “he wouldn’t go down when I wanted him to, he wouldn’t eat the food I made for him, and he refused to sleep until I played five games of hide and seek with him.” Her loud huff and grumbling didn’t even cause my son to stir, which brought a small smile to my lips. Daxx could sleep through a thunderstorm while at the same time, a mob of wild brumbies ran amuck around him. My kid had more than just his father’s handsome good looks and blue eyes; he also had the ability to sleep despite what went on around him. A blessing really considering I took him practically everywhere with me on the farm during the day. My rides on Banjo excluded.

  “What can I say, he is just like his father,” I replied absently, leaning down to gently brush a curl of dark blond hair from my baby boy’s forehead.

  “And that would be?” Mallory asked drily, her eyebrows pulling together, waiting for me to reply in my usual fashion.

  “None of your business,” I snapped, not in the mood for her let’s guess who the baby daddy is. It was obvious who his dad was, she had to know, but for some reason, she played this game with me. Mallory knew I was married to Noxx, she knew he was the only man I have ever been with, but that didn’t stop her from pissing me off with her games.

  “You know, sis, I am not stupid. The older Daxx gets, the more he looks like Lenoxx, he has the same icy-blue eyes the triplets have. Staying away from home while you were pregnant wasn’t exactly a good way to throw off suspicion as to who his dad is.”

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I looked closely at Daxx. It was true he was looking more and more like Noxx, his features undeniably confirming his connection to the Hott family. That was a constant source of anxiety, taking Daxx, now that he looked less like an infant and more like his father’s mini-me, into the township of Waterford to shop for supplies was getting tricky, it was only a matter of time before one of the gossips got a good look at him and realised that forty kilometres away in Cattle Ridge three men looked much the same as my son. And one of those gossips was going to have a field day if they knew the brothers when they had been the age Daxx was now.

  “Not to mention you just had to put double x at the end. I mean Mack seriously, what were you thinking?” my sister asked me, screwing her face at me in frustration.

  “If you knew, why have you waited until now to say anything, why the games?” I asked in frustration. Annoyed that I was fast drowning in the deception of keeping Daxx from his father, pissed off that the story I made up to explain why I got pregnant not long after my marriage crumbled. As if I could ever let another man touch my body the way Noxx used to. He might not have had a problem replacing my touch on his body, but the mere thought of someone other than him touching my skin made me want to vomit.

  Lenoxx Hott had been my first and only lover, and damn if I could make myself take another. During the nine months I was pregnant with Daxx, I hid out with an old school friend in another state, giving birth to my son without my sister or father present. Neither of them got to see my round belly or Daxx come into the world. In retrospect, that hadn’t been the best decision on my part, not letting them come see me or even know where I was. My dad never forgave me for keeping my pregnancy from him; for him, it had been the final straw after running off with Noxx to Melbourne.

  Coming home with a three month old baby was not my finest hour, nor did I return to open arms. I refused to tell anyone who the baby’s father was, all I told my family was I left Noxx and went to stay with a friend for twelve months. Any further explanation was unnecessary; the disappointment on my father’s face more than enough guilt and shame to bear. Telling him that his grandson was also Will Hott’s grandson didn’t seem to be in my favour … at least at the time that was how I felt.

  A failed marriage, a cheating husband and a shattered heart–I had enough to deal with at the tender age of twenty-three. Seven months was all I had with him in Melbourne, less than that married to the man I thought I would be with for the rest of my life only for it to implode with one early morning knock to the door. The pregnancy didn’t become apparent until I reached Queensland three weeks later. Panic set in, tears fell, and months of dwelling over what to do. Finally, I knew I had to tell Noxx about the baby, my friend, while supportive, gently reminded me that Noxx was still my husband, and had a right to know he was going to be a father. No matter what he did to me, the baby deserved a father. I agreed, but the prospect of seeing Noxx again made me drag my feet. It hadn’t been until my sixth month that I got up the courage to go back home. I bought my ticket, said goodbye to my friend, then headed for the airport. It was then I discovered just how much power money yielded. I never got on that plane; the decision to stay or leave taken out of my hands.

  “Jesus, Mack, are you listening to me?”

  “No, I’m not. Not if Lenoxx is the subject,” I replied stubbornly. I wasn’t ready to discuss the reasons why I left my husband and hide his child from him.

  “Did you go get the mail?” I asked, turning away from Mallory’s glaring eyes to look at the mantelpiece. The large chunk of oak was salvaged from the original homestead my grandparents built more than one hundred years ago, which unfortunately a fire, that started in the kitchen’s wood-fired stove, took most of the house, leaving only a few untouched beams. Dad used one for this mantel and the other two, he hung over the front gate to the property. That innocent decision on my father’s part the start of the feud between my family and Noxx’s. The legend goes, Will saw the new gate entrance and decided that was a good idea, the only problem was Will had more money than my parents, he used Oregon beams, and instead of painting the name of his farm, he had a professional woodworker burn not only the name of the farm but a fancy brand in the shape of a steer skull and huge horns with flames all around it. Dad hated Will for being a show-off big noter, and from that day, they engaged in pointless arguing and competitions to prove who was the best farmer.

  No guessing who won that one.

  Stroking one finger across the splintered edge, I watched the flames of the fire dance before me. My body was so ready to give up and sit down, but there was still work to do after dinner and Daxx’s bath. Sitting not an option for a few more hours yet.

  “On the mantel to your left,” Mallory huffed, obviously pissed off I shut down any talk about Daxx and Noxx.

  Ignoring the ache in my arm as I reached over for the pile of letters, thumbing through them, I came across an official-looking typed envelope with HBC embossed with deep red lettering. Picking it from the pile, I turned around.

  “What’s this?” I asked, holding the expensive envelope up.

  “Dunno, I only open letters addressed to me, not the farm.”

  “You do know you own this place along with me, right?” I huffed, flipping the flap at the back open and pulled out the thick cream paper, and started to read.

>   “Let’s not kid ourselves here, Mack, you are in charge of the land, and I babysit your son.”

  Mallory’s snotty reply barely registered as I tried to make sense of what the words on the paper were telling me. Rage filled me with every line I read, followed very quickly by disbelief.

  “You have got to be kidding me, Dad!” I yelled angrily, kicking my foot out, hitting the stone hearth.

  “What?” Mallory asked, suddenly sounding concerned.

  “No, no way did he do this. He wouldn’t have done this!”

  Appalled at the thought that my father would be so deceitful, so underhanded so damn stupid. Desperately I skimmed over the letter again, thinking that surely this was a mistake or an April Fool’s joke, three months late.

  “Makena, will you please tell me what is going on?” My sister was now up off the couch and had come to stand behind me. Mallory knew when to taunt me and when to take me seriously, this was one of those moments. Thrusting the paper behind me to Mal, I paced away from her while she read it, it didn’t take long for the expletives to fall out of her.

  “Of all the stupid … just as well he is dead because right now, I want to throttle him.”

  Instead of telling Mal off for speaking ill of the dead or her foul language with my son sleeping only metres away, I nodded my head in agreement. Words not capable right now unless I added to my sister’s colourful phrases.

  “And who the hell is HBC? When did dad go to Melbourne? He never went to the city in my memory, hell he never went any further than Cattle Ridge, and that was only when hell froze over and he had no other choice.” Mallory wasn’t saying anything I already didn’t know, the only thing I didn’t know was what the hell we were going to do now.

  “According to that … letter,” I spat turning evil eyes towards the offending document still being waved about by my sister, “HBC, whoever they are, not only want us to complete payment for the loan Dad got from them, but also it seems our dear father signed papers saying if we can’t pay back the money by their deadline, they immediately take possession of half of our farm.”

  “And,” I continued getting a real head of steam going now, “apparently someone is going to come out to do a full valuation of their assets. Theirs! Like they already own the place!” I yelled in full outrage mode, then remembered my baby boy sleeping on the couch, not that Daxx would wake from some shouting. Daxx could sleep through just about anything, even as a baby I never had to worry about keeping the noises down, and once we got home to the farm, he quickly adapted to the early morning sounds of my dad getting ready for work. Mallory and I weren’t exactly quiet ourselves, most of our conversations consisting of yelling and from time to time throwing things.

  Walking over to my son, I placed a gentle hand on his tiny back when he began to stir. He needed to wake soon; if he slept too long then, getting him to go down later wasn’t going to be fun, but right now, the last thing I needed was for Daxx to see his mummy mad.

  My son’s soft skin on his neck felt soothing under my palm, calming me enough to continue without yelling.

  “I don’t get it Mal, if Dad took out so many loans from the bank and this HBC, how come we are in so much debt still? Where did the money go?” So many questions but not one answer, no, they laid with my father in the family plot at the cemetery.

  “Mack, it has a number here we can call, CFO Michael Hubble. Collins Street Melbourne,” Mallory told me, coming closer to the couch, her voice softer for Daxx’s sake.

  “Well then, let’s give Mr Michael Hubble, CFO, a call and ask him what the hell our father was thinking, asking strangers for money.”

  Snatching the letter from Mallory, I reached over to the phone on the side table then thought better of it. I had a feeling my language was not only going to get bad but loud, also, Daxx didn’t need to hear his mummy drop F-bombs. Or threaten lives. Getting to my feet, I took the blanket off the back of the couch and gently laid it over my son’s small body.

  “I better call from the kitchen, Daxx said shit the other day after he heard you out in the machinery shed. Something tells me I will be using words stronger than shit,” I muttered, giving Mallory a stern look then with two fingers I made a motion to her then to Daxx, “watch him for me please, you know how he likes to move in his sleep.”

  Not waiting for her answer, I strode purposely out of the lounge room to make the call. My sister’s muttered words about always watching him following me.

  If you don’t want to watch your nephew, then get your arse out into the paddocks more, then I can stay inside and play with my son all day. The nasty thought popped into my head before I could stop it. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate her help with Daxx, but all of a sudden, I wasn’t feeling all that accommodating to pleasant thoughts. Picking up the phone, choosing to use the landline rather than my mobile after only just loading it with credit, and not wanting to use it all on a phone call that was going to take god knows how long.

  Stabbing at the buttons on the phone a little too aggressively, I took a minute to call upon the universe to grant me some patience. Or a lot.

  “I am very sorry, Ms Rogers, but I can’t release any information to you until I have written confirmation from your father’s solicitor and a copy of the death certificate.”

  “The death certificate? This is insane. My father passed away three months ago; he stopped his payments which, I might add I had no idea about, and now you want proof that he is dead before you tell me who he owes money to and why?” I asked, exasperated to the max. Michael Hubble was proving to be a real pain in my arse, thirty minutes on the phone with him, and I wanted nothing more than to stab him in the throat.

  “All you need to do is have your late father’s solicitor forward any documents that state you are who you say you are, and we can get down to business. Although you must be warned that three months with no payments means we have the right to have not only the bull reclaimed but call for the loan to be paid in full. It is within the legal rights according to the contract your father signed over a year ago.”

  The desire to reach through the phone and throttle the idiot on the other end stronger than the unspeakable one about my father. What kind of contract did he sign, and how was I going to get us out of this mess? The bull in question was indeed a beautiful piece of meat, but feeding him cost the earth, and the big dumb bovine practically needed around the clock babysitting just in case he farted the wrong way. Dad had been very specific on how we had to treat the animal, at the time it confused me, but now the pieces were starting to fall into place. We didn’t own the beast, HBC did. Whoever they were.

  “Mr Hubble, is there someone else I can speak to, someone other than you? Maybe the person who owns HBC,” I gritted out, my jaw clenching and grinding in a superhuman effort not to scream and curse like I wanted to.

  “The CEO is very busy and generally doesn’t deal with trivial matters like this; however, the COO is reachable on his mobile if you would rather yell at him,” Hubble drawled at me; I could hear his frustration, which brought a sly grin to my lips. I was annoying him, good! Because he was truly pissing me off with his bored tones and secret squirrel shit.

  “Give me his number,” I growled, grabbing a pen and quickly writing down the number. “What is this COO’s name?” I asked, then instead of hearing Hubble’s voice, there was nothing. Dead. The line went completely dead. No dial tone to indicate that arse hung up on me, just … nothing.

  Stabbing my finger on the hook switch on the old 80s style phone over and over, but still, nothing changed. The line was dead.

  Mallory entered the kitchen, Daxx awake and on her hip, a smile on his face, and a grimace on my sister’s.

  “I’m sorry Mack, I had two days off this week, so my pay was done.”

  “It’s not your fault hon,” I assured her, walking over to her to drop a kiss on her cheek then held out my arms to my son.

  “Hey there, little man, did you have a good sleep?” I asked him, catch
ing him quickly when he threw himself at me.

  “No!” he shouted, laughing at me, his chubby hands grabbing at my checks.

  “No? Are you sure?” I teased him, leaning my face into his touch, enjoying the closeness we shared. A small prickle of regret and guilt hit me as it usually did whenever Daxx was in my arms. My decision to not tell Noxx about his son was fraught with so many consequences for the both of us. Noxx was missing so much and I feared if he ever found out he would make me pay dearly for it. Nothing I wouldn’t deserve, but that didn’t stop my worry about how vindictive my estranged husband would be and how far he would take it.

  “Mumma down, down, down, down,” Daxx’s sweet voice pulled me from the concerns rolling around in my mind.

  “Down? How about we get something to eat then go out and help Charlie,” I suggested walking him over to his highchair and buckled him in.

  “I thought it was his bath time after dinner, then you would be going back out, and I’d stay with him?” Mal objected going to the cupboard and pulled out two tins of canned spaghetti, Daxx’s all-time favourite food.

  “He can go back out with me, I can do the feeding of the horses, chooks and dogs, while Charlie sees to the cattle and sheep.” I nearly growled the word sheep. I hated sheep. They smelled, were dumb and more work than I needed right now. We had a modest flock but enough to do my head in at feed time, in fact, I actually looked forward to the mundane and time-consuming task of feeding the animals in the barns, instead of standing on the back of the tractor tossing out bales of hay and the expensive feed mix we hand-mixed for the cattle.

  “Makena, I don’t mind staying with him.”

  Taking the tins from my sister, I went about opening them and pouring them into a saucepan so that I could heat the gooey mix for Daxx and myself.