Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
The crowd begins to thin as I walk around and see the last of the winners presented. The boys riding tonight aren’t top tier yet, but this is a good place to start. Checking my watch, I see it’s almost time to meet the owner, so I find the sign for where the offices are and walk that way.
Just as I reach the door, it opens, and standing there is a young woman fixing her shirt and a man old enough to be her father behind her zipping up his pants. She wipes her bottom lip and then looks me up and down like I’m next in line.
“Hey there, cowboy,” she says and winks at me.
I take a step back because I don’t want her to try to touch me. I don’t like to be touched, especially by strange women. The old man behind her says something I don’t hear, and she makes a face as he shoves her out of the office.
“You must be Bronco.” He holds out his hand, but there’s no way in hell I’m touching that thing.
“Why don’t we take a walk,” I say and nod in the opposite direction the girl went. I’m not about to sit in that office with the smell of his dick all around me.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like to see the place.”
“I’ve seen most of what I need to,” I say as we fall in step beside each other. “I also had my finance office pull your records.”
“Well, some of the taxes are a little behind and—”
“You’re swimming in debt, and the IRS is about two seconds away from putting a lien on your land.” I nod toward the arena where some of the bunnies are crowning the winners. “Yet you’ve got this place packed to the roof on a Tuesday night.”
“Like I said in my email, I’ve got a few things I can offer up to sweeten the deal.”
“Why would I take on all your debt that I won’t see back for a decade even if this arena sells out every night of the week? With all due respect, Mr. Walker, you’ve wasted a good thing, and there’s no reason for me to unburden you from it.”
“My daughter comes with the place,” he says, and I blink at him.
“I don’t need a secretary—”
“No, you don’t understand what I mean.” The smile he gives me sends a chill down my neck. “I’ve been saving her up for this. You see, I like being kept in a certain lifestyle, and going bankrupt isn’t going to let me keep doing that. I saw you’re not married, and I’ve kept my daughter fresh just for the right price.”
Anger burns hot and fast though me, and I want to punch his teeth into the back of his throat.
“She’s a little on the chubby side, but I’m sure with a firm hand, you could get that under control.” He looks past me and then raises his hand to wave at someone behind me. “Now, keep in mind this deal is on the table for Wayne Johnson too, so don’t lowball me, son.”
Son? Wayne Johnson? This guy can’t be serious. What the actual fuck have I walked into tonight? He’s really using his daughter as collateral for this bankrupt arena, and not only that, he’s got Wayne fucking Johnson thinking about it too? Wayne owns a ranch down south, and he’s got a reputation for passing his women around for all his ranch-hands to use. The guys that work for him always brag about it at rodeos and get excited when he brings a bunny home. I can’t imagine what they’d do to a virgin if what he’s saying about his daughter is true.
“Mr. Walker—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Come over here, Tracy, and meet Bronco,” he says to the person behind me.
Chapter Three
Tracy
I can hear my father’s voice, but I can’t see him. Not with the giant man standing in front of him. All I can see is a tight black shirt that shows off how in shape this stranger is. His faded jeans mold tight to his butt, and I can see his boots have put in some work. His clothes aren’t showy, so they’re probably tight because that’s all that fits.
I think my ears might have deceived me as I stare at the broad back. I’m dead on my feet at this point, so it’s either a dream or I’m hallucinating. No way this is Bronco. Like The Bronco. He’s big enough to be him. Hell, he might be too big. In all the pictures and footage I’ve seen of Bronco, he’s always been a big man, but this is a whole new level. I thought the camera added ten pounds of fat. Not twenty pounds of muscle.
Still, this might all be happening in my head. I’d barely made it to my trailer, and my father was texting me to get my ass back here. He hadn’t given a reason but made it sound urgent. I thought maybe something was wrong with the count for the night.