Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

CAROLINA

“Shit,” I cursed aloud in my tiny compact vehicle.

I missed the turn for the campground my boss had apparently just purchased and expected me to live in for the next six weeks.

My car wasn’t the only thing running on empty. I gave my empty travel mug a dirty look and clenched my jaw.

Making a U-turn in my small hybrid car and getting it to take the muddied path towards the little flag waving brightly across my GPS screen took more finesse than actual driving skill.

And begging.

A lot of freaking begging.

“Please do not crap out on me. Please, please, please, do not crap out on me,” I murmured as I rolled to a stop in front of a shitty looking cabin.

I shifted into park, grimacing as the energy gauge told me what I’d feared.

The battery was about dead. And, of course, the arrow on the gas gauge was tipped to the large E.

“Fuck,” I growled and slapped my hands against the dashboard.

When I’d bought that stupid car, I’d felt like I was doing my part for the environment.

But I’ve regretted it every single day since.

Do you know how many charging stations there were in Consequence?

Exactly one.

Inside my garage.

But I heard we were getting a Buc-ee’s about five miles outside of town in the next three years or so and they had charging stations.

So, that was cool.

Not.

I mean, I loved Buc-ee’s, but I didn’t think I could wait three years for a charging station. And if that wasn’t enough to ruin my morning, the next five minutes sealed it.

I checked my phone. Shit. I was late. It was after nine, but at least I had an hour before the bus— fuck!

As soon as I thought it, an enormous all black charter bus came barreling up the same driveway I’d just driven down. But without all the fuss my car had made, of course.

Jesus, he was going fast!

I gaped, mouth open as the huge thing pulled to a stop right beside my compact, splattering my perfectly clean driver’s side door and window with thick mud and some gravel.

That was definitely going to leave a mark.

The morning had started out pretty shitty to begin with, but that was the filthy icing on the cake of this bitch of a day.

I was ready to read that idiot driver the riot act when the doors opened, and like three dozen veritable giants came trotting out of the thing.

These were not normal men.

They were monsters.

Humongous.

It was like a lineup of stunt doubles for Hercules or maybe Ares if we were talking about the cast of characters from the best show ever.

I meant Xena: Warrior Princess , of course. I used to devour that show when I was a kid, and I just started re-watching it recently.

Yay for streaming services!

Anyway, there wasn’t one of these guys under six feet tall. And they sure as fuck looked like they all ate their Wheaties.

By the bucketful.

If the bulging biceps didn’t give it away, it was their tree trunk sized thighs and shoulders that looked wider than the entire house I’d been renting in town.

One man stood out to me among the rest. He had wild-looking dark brown hair that looked like it had not seen a brush in a while. Of course, it didn’t need one, either. His hair was thick and glossy, with big curls at the tips.

He had about an inch of beard in that same color, covering what I was sure was a ruggedly handsome face. I was staring. I knew I was, but I couldn’t help it.

Emerald-green eyes glared at me, and my mouth gaped as I took in his tattooed hands and arms. The ink must go all the way up, I mused, seeing some of the scrolling work peeking out of his collar and up his neck.

Holy hotness.

“Are you the clown who rented this shit hole? Not impressed,” he barked, pointing a big beefy finger at me.

Fuck me now with that goddamn accent.

But any hint of admiration left my face the second I registered the words this gorgeous specimen of man had been shouting at me.

Did he call me a clown? Okay, that was not a compliment.

“Are you capable of speech? This is not acceptable! I asked for a real training facility. I’ve got six weeks to get these jokers ready for the season,” he rumbled, his emerald gaze glittering down at me.

Thank fuck for the car. I was stuck in my seat while this man tore me a new one, and it was a good thing, too. I might’ve fallen down to my knees and begged him to punish me for all my sins, he was just that hot.

“This is a team of professional athletes. We need a proper paddock– a field , for fuck’s sake,” he growled when I continued to stare blankly.

“Shit. Coach is going berko,” one of the other men muttered.

“Hello? I said we can’t use some backwoods children’s campground for our practice field. How the hell are we supposed to get this team ready? Well? Are you deaf, too?”

This giant bearded fucker was going to blow a gasket.

I mean, I’d be concerned if I was his doctor. Veins were sticking out of his neck and his tanned skin was turning a dark, ruddy shade of red as he shouted at me.

Really, I kinda wished it made him uglier. Or at least mildly unattractive. But honestly, all that masculine outrage was downright sexy.

God, I was fucked up.

But sexy or not, who the hell did he think he was? This man guy was not about to yell at me like that and get away with it.

Hell to the no.

I frowned, my New Jersey temper getting the better of me as I jumped out of the driver’s seat and slammed my door. I marched right up to the growling giant and pointed my finger at his chest.

“Hey,” I shouted, catching his attention. “I don’t know where you get off yelling at people, Mister, but I don’t give a shit how many touchdowns you score, you don’t talk to me like that!”

“Try.”

“Try what?”

“It’s called a try . Not a touchdown. When you score in rugby,” the bearded asshat corrected me.

“Who fucking cares?” I yelled.

His eyebrows went sky high, and I wondered if maybe he didn’t see who he was shouting at through my tinted windows and all the mud. Maybe he regretted yelling at a woman. Still, it was no excuse for behaving like a giant butthead.

“Whoa. She’s got sass this one,” another man, who I ignored, said.

“Shut up, Tank,” the object of my ire barked, then raised his hands as if to ward me off. “Look, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have yelled at a woman ?—”

He enunciated the word, and I stopped him with a loud gasp. I mean, fuck that. I was too mad.

“You shouldn’t have yelled at a woman ? Oh, my fucking God. Tell me, is having a penis synonymous with being a penis where you're from?”

“I only meant?—”

“Oh, I know what you meant. See, where I’m from, calling someone you don’t know deaf and clown are fighting words. So I am assuming, if I was a man, we would be fighting, right?” I asked, but no way was I going to let him answer.

“Regardless of what you think, I don’t need to be a man to argue with you,” I snapped. “Now, let me clarify a couple of things. I am not the clown who rented anything. And I can hear perfectly fine,” I replied, angry as hell.

“Look, Girl, it was a long trip, and this isn’t what we were expecting?—”

“DeLusso. My name is Carolina DeLusso. Not Girl . And I don’t give a rat’s ass if you need a nap after your flight, Mister?—”

“Barret. Dane Barret,” he mumbled, and seemed more amused now than angry.

Well, fuck him for that, too.

“Great. I’d say nice to meet you, but I’m not good at lying. Now, if you have any complaints, you need to bring them to Mr. Knight’s attention. Recognize that name? He’s the one who signed the big fucking check buying you and your team of professional athletes who play a sport no one in this country knows a single thing about!”

I knew I was being dramatic and rude.

But, in my defense, I felt overwhelmed. All the shit I scrambled to do that morning, and this man yelling at me, just tipped me over the edge.

To hell with this shitty day already.

But even knowing I was losing my grip, I still wasn’t done yet. My gaze drifted to my mud and gravel splattered car and, goddamn it , that was a scratch on the paint. Turning my head, I narrowed my gaze and pointed at that great behemoth then at my car door.

“Before I go, are you the jerk who splattered mud all over my car?”

“Look, Gir—I mean, Miss DeLusso , we need to talk about this. I didn’t come all the way here to live in some shitty bach,” he started again, but I stopped him with a shake of my head.

I had no idea what the fuck a batch was, and furthermore, I didn’t care. Thunder boomed overhead, and the sky was getting darker. I took a breath and faced this monster-sized man, glaring at him, deciding somehow that he was responsible for my bad day.

“Normally, Mr. Barret, I would say I’d handle it, but you know what? I QUIT!” I screamed.