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    Mr. Unlucky
    Mr. Unlucky
    Mr. Unlucky
    Ebook238 pages3 hours

    Mr. Unlucky

    By BA Tortuga

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Addie isn't shy about hooking up with rancher Bodie, even if he has a reputation as Mr. Unlucky. Can they change each other's fortunes?

    Cowboy Bodie might be unlucky in love, having lost not one but two fiancées in his life. When he meets Addie, though, he knows he's found a special girl, and he thinks he might be willing to take one more chance with his wounded heart.

    Addie has been in war-torn parts of the world and is on the rebound from a bad relationship. When she comes home to East Texas, all she wants is to relax and enjoy life for a bit. Then she spies Bodie, and she thinks he's the hottest thing she's ever seen. She's willing to put in the time and effort to convince Bodie that his luck has changed.

    Between Bodie's past, Addie's ex, and the meddling of an entire small town, Bodie and Addie have a lot to work through if they want to go from just friends with benefits to something more serious. Can Mr. Unlucky and Miss Good Times find a way to make it work?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTotally Bound Publishing
    Release dateAug 16, 2016
    ISBN9781786510549
    Mr. Unlucky

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      Book preview

      Mr. Unlucky - BA Tortuga

      Table of Contents

      Book Description

      Dedication

      Author’s note

      Prologue

      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

      Epilogue

      City Country

      More books

      About the Author

      Books by BA Tortuga

      Roughstock

      Blind Ride

      And a Smile

      File Gumbo

      Coke’s Clown

      Back to Back

      Roughstock Sweethearts

      City Country

      Picking Roses

      Top of the Leader Board

      Ace and Kitty

      One Horse Town

      Mr. Unlucky

      Anthologies

      Boots, Chaps and Cowboy Hats

      Single Titles

      What She Wants

      Tied and Taken

      Mr. Unlucky

      ISBN # 978-1-78651-054-9

      ©Copyright BA Tortuga 2016

      Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright 2016

      Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

      Totally Bound Publishing

      This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

      Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

      The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

      Published in 2016 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN, United Kingdom.

      No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.

      Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

      If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

      Book Description

      Addie isn’t shy about hooking up with rancher Bodie, even if he has a reputation as Mr. Unlucky. Can they change each other’s fortunes?

      Cowboy Bodie might be unlucky in love, having lost not one but two fiancées in his life. When he meets Addie, though, he knows he’s found a special girl, and he thinks he might be willing to take one more chance with his wounded heart.

      Addie has been in war-torn parts of the world and is on the rebound from a bad relationship. When she comes home to East Texas, all she wants is to relax and enjoy life for a bit. Then she spies Bodie, and she thinks he’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen. She’s willing to put in the time and effort to convince Bodie that his luck has changed.

      Between Bodie’s past, Addie’s ex, and the meddling of an entire small town, Bodie and Addie have a lot to work through if they want to go from just friends with benefits to something more serious. Can Mr. Unlucky and Miss Good Times find a way to make it work?

      One Horse Town

      Mr. Unlucky

      BA TORTUGA

      Dedication

      To my baby sister, Tiffany. Love you, baby girl. BA

      Author’s note

      As y’all know, I’m a deep East Texas girl, balls to bones, and so are Addie, Maddie, Bodie and the rest of ’em. Well, except for Jim. He’s not from here. I portray these folks as I know them, with all their sayings and rough ways. All errors are mine, and I own them, proudly.

      Much love, y’all.

      BA

      Trademarks Acknowledgement

      The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

      Dodge Charger: FCA US LLC

      Shiner: Spoetzl Brewery

      All My Exes Live in Texas: Sanger D. Shafer and Linda J. Shafer

      Ropers: Karman Inc.

      Old Spice: Procter & Gamble

      Catwoman: DC Comics, Inc.

      Walmart: Walmart Stores Inc.

      The Dukes of Hazzard: Warner Bros. Television

      Scrabble: Hasbro, Inc.

      UPS: United Parcel Service, Inc.

      Sesame Street: Sesame Workshop

      Superman: DC Comics, Inc.

      Thermos: Thermos L.L.C.

      Nikon: Nikon Corporation

      Stetson: John B. Stetson Company

      Rice Krispies: Kellogg Company

      Ace Hardware: Ace Hardware Corporation

      Taco Bell: Yum! Brands Inc.

      iPod: Apple Inc.

      Kraco: Kraco Enterprises, LLC

      Ain’t Going Down: Kent Blazy, Kim Williams and Garth Brooks

      Wranglers: VF Corporation

      Magnet: Magnet Schools of America

      Sherlock Holmes: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

      Ford F150: Ford Motor Company

      Coke: Coca-Cola Company

      NCIS: CBS Television Distribution

      Foster’s: SAB Miller

      Miller Lite: MillerCoors LLC

      Sharpie: Newell Brands

      Brookshire’s: Brookshire Grocery Company

      Mastercard: Mastercard Incorporated

      Bud Lite: Anheuser Busch

      Altoids: Callard and Bowser-Suchard, Inc.

      Make Way for Ducklings: Robert McCloskey

      Tide: Procter & Gamble

      Sprite: Coca-Cola Company

      iTunes: Apple Inc

      Wonder Woman: DC Comics, Inc.

      Underoos: Fruit of the Loom

      Skype: Skype Technologies

      Lexus: Toyota Motor Corporation

      Motel 6: G6 Hospitality LLC

      Taser: Taser International

      Bowflex: Nautilus Inc.

      Hilliard’s: Hilliard’s Florists, Greenville, TX

      Dairy Dart: Dairy Dart, Greenville, TX (closed)

      Prologue

      Maddie? Addie sat out on the front steps of the Boston Library, phone to her ear, her heavy hoodie pulled up, letting a big column hide her from the rising sun, from people walking by. They were mostly joggers, this early, but the first of the blue-collar workers were heading into the city and soon the business people would be click-clacking by—all of them dressed in black or gray or navy blue, the women in pumps, the men in shiny duck-tailed shoes. It was bitter cold—too cold for October, it seemed like. She’d been in Massachusetts with Jim for a little over a year and it just…wasn’t home.

      It wasn’t what she’d wanted when she’d left her position at the paper, given up her slot as photojournalist for the Morning News, walked away from Afghanistan and bombs and dying babies and Marines with blown-off legs and arms. She’d wanted home and peace and quiet and…Texas. Not here. Not this cold, huge city on the harbor.

      Hell, she’d wanted to move back to Hughes Springs, but Jim had found himself a good job at a firm in Boston, had been willing to give up his contract in the Middle East for her, and they’d been together for long enough that she’d felt honor-bound to give the city a chance. Give them a chance. She was beginning to think she was an idiot.

      Sister? Addie? What’s wrong? I know something’s wrong. Of course Maddie knew. She always knew when something was up. Addie’s twin sister had texted twelve times in two hours, which was crazy. Maddie wasn’t a night owl at all, and it was what? Six-thirty here? So five-thirty at home? That meant Maddie had been texting since damn near three, and she’d have to be up in an hour to feed and work the horses. Addie guessed she was lucky Maddie was home at all. Rodeo finals would be starting soon, and her twin would be on the road a lot. Maddie’d had a damn good year on the barrels—she’d be looking for the big purse in Vegas.

      I-I don’t know what to do. Addie swallowed hard, hand on her cheek to stave off the brisk autumn winds.

      What did that slimy motherfucker do? I swear to God, I’m going to get Daddy Chris, and I’ll be on a plane in an hour.

      No! She sat up, shook her head. No, Maddie. Please. I just… I thought I was pregnant. I’m not. I wasn’t ever, but Jim saw the pregnancy test and freaked out. Called me a slut, threw me out. Accused me of cheating on him. Put all her shit on the stoop.

      She was never, ever living anywhere that had a stoop again.

      Did he hurt you?

      I don’t know what to do, she repeated.

      Oh, fuck a duck sideways. That smarmy little pussy-shoe-wearing fucktard hit you. Maddie’s voice was like cold steel. Icy. Hard.

      He had a vasectomy. He never said. I just… The rubber broke and I was worried.

      You’ll start tomorrow. I started today. Addie was always—always—a day behind. Dad said it was because Maddie was born at eleven-forty-nine on a Friday and she came at twelve-oh-three on a Saturday. The only twins on earth with two dads, different birthdays, and a surrogate mom. Wait, he didn’t tell you he was fixed?

      No.

      Christ, Addie, y’all are engaged!

      Were. The finger where he’d ripped the ring off was swollen, bruised, and she was scared it might be broken.

      Where are you?

      Steps of the library.

      In Boston? Maddie still thought Boston was the biggest, most violent city on earth and couldn’t be convinced that it had its lovely spots. It just wasn’t small town Texas.

      No, Mads, in Bora Bora.

      They have libraries there?

      They laughed together, sharing the moment. It faded, though, just like the night was fading. Do you think…? I mean, my car has all the things he let me take.

      Come home. It’s fall. It’s pretty. I’m fixin’ to be on the road for the push to finals and the dads could use company. She could see Maddie’s smile in her mind’s eye, tired and fond and knowing. I have two empty rooms here in my place.

      Daddy Chris had put a modular home on Bill Parker’s plot of land when the man passed, telling Maddie his girls needed a place to be, to stay.

      You sure you want a roommate?

      Shit, sister, you’re not a roommate. I’ll expect you Thursday?

      Addie nodded. Maybe Friday. I’m tired. I’ll wait until after rush hour, drive for a few hours and get some sleep.

      Okay. I’ll tell the dads you’re coming and not to call.

      Don’t tell them.

      I won’t. I won’t have to. Maddie sighed. At least you weren’t married, huh? I mean, shit, this sucks, but there won’t need to be a lawyer or nothing.

      She nodded, but she was going to start crying again if she spoke. Maddie was right, she guessed. At least there wasn’t a marriage.

      Or babies.

      Or trust.

      Just a screaming match, a slap, one broken finger and most of her shit in the back of a Dodge Charger.

      She stood up, wiped her eyes and headed down the steps. Coffee first, then Texas.

      Chapter One

      Addie sat, swinging her legs on the bar stool in the most amazing dive bar she’d visited in all her travels. It was also what passed for the only club in town. Good thing this town was her hometown. With old pleather stools, flickering neon beer signs and a black and white checkered dance floor the size of a postage stamp, it was perfect.

      Almost as perfect as Mr. Unlucky sitting three stools down.

      Her phone beeped, and the evil ex Jim’s name popped up. Addie rolled her eyes and hit ‘Reject call’. God, it had been damn near six months since she’d left Boston. You’d think the nutty fucker would lose her number. She wasn’t interested in a single thing the asshat had to say.

      He could be happy and cold in fucking Massachusetts.

      She turned her attention back to Mr. Hot, Stoic and Drinking. He was in here every Wednesday night, just like clockwork. Maddie had informed her Wednesday was when the cowboy wandered into town, did his feed store shopping and his weekly beer run, then stopped to have two longnecks at the bar before heading back to his twelve-hundred-acre ranch to work some of the finest Beefmaster cattle in Morris county.

      Did knowing all that make her obsessed?

      Nah. Hell, she was a photographer and investigative reporter still, right? In the time she’d been back in town, she’d found out everything any girl could want to know about what Bodie Reaver had been doing since she’d left—that he would be thirty-two in January and was as yet unmarried, and that he had become something of a local legend.

      The poor guy had lost two fiancées in the last twelve years. The first one had died in some kind of car accident back when she was at the end of high school, and the other had succumbed to cancer some three years ago. The rumors swirled around him like smoke—he was a black widower, a witch, cursed, or was just the unluckiest guy on earth.

      She didn’t believe any of the above, and even if she did, Addie thought Bodie was hot as hell. She was also bored to tears hiding out at her sister’s house in this tiny East Texas town and looking for something to do while she took pictures, lived off her savings, and helped exercise horses. Why not do him? She stood and sidled over to his stool.

      Did you know frowning that deep will give you wrinkles?

      Bodie started a little, then turned to glance behind him before looking back at her and raising one almost-black brow. You talkin’ to me, honey?

      I most definitely am. He was long and lean, with leather-tanned skin and bright blue eyes. Hoo, yeah. She was so talking to him.

      His frown shifted into a smile, which gave him even better lines. Well, then, I got to tell you, no one has cared about my lines in years. Those pretty blue eyes were checking her out, though, making her blood pump faster.

      Too bad. That sounds like an incredible waste of one hell of a mouth. Why pretend to be shy? Addie knew being the retiring type was not one of her failings, so to force it now would be silly.

      The smile lines got deeper, the expression reaching his eyes. Gracious. That was lethal.

      Thank you, ma’am. Whatcha drinkin’?

      Shiner, she said, and winked. I’m back in Texas. Might as well have the good beer.

      From Guatemala to Ghana, Moscow to Mozambique, she’d been and done it all. Now she wanted home and spring and bluebonnets and hot cowboys in her bed.

      Cool. Another Shiner for the lady, Carl.

      Carl, a skinny old cowboy with a three-inch lift in his left boot, nodded, staring at her with wide eyes. Evidently, he expected her to drop dead on the spot from talking to Bodie. When she didn’t, he grinned, the expression pure shit-dipped evil. Lord, that ain’t no lady. That’s Chris and Brandt’s youngest girl, Addison.

      Oh, she hated to be called by that name. She rolled her eyes, rubbed the bridge of her nose with her middle finger, then turned back to Bodie.

      Addie. Thanks for the beer, cowboy. She let herself look, obvious and slow, admiring all the way along.

      Not a problem. Have a sit. He motioned at the stool next to him, and she wasted no time plopping down.

      So, tell me something odd about yourself. Something I couldn’t guess, she said.

      I like cotton candy. He grinned again before taking a swallow of his beer, his tan throat working in an addictive way. What about you?

      I’m a wildcat in bed. She winked, flirting outrageously. Oh, wait. That’s not something you couldn’t guess, right?

      He laughed out loud when Carl choked behind the bar, sputtering hard. I could figure that, yeah.

      Addie grinned. Excellent powers of observation. Spectacular.

      Well, I try, honey. It’s been a while since anyone was so honest about it, I reckon.

      Honesty is the best policy. She waited for a heartbeat. Like for instance, I think you’re incredibly hot. Are you as good with your hands as you seem?

      He didn’t even blink. I’m pretty handy. In fact, I make my living with them.

      Yeah? I’m a photographer. What do you do? She knew the answer, of course, but a man sure liked to be asked. Stroking wasn’t only for below the buckle. Everyone knew Running Water Ranch, because having a profitable outfit made a man small town famous. Hell, her dads sold hay to him.

      Ranching. Cattle and horses. Had goats for a bit, but they were too smart. He winked. Always climbing and getting out of fences.

      I grew up on a ranch. Live on one now, as a matter of fact. What’s your position on dancing?

      I rub belt buckles pretty well. Two-step. Waltz. I ain’t so good at the modern flail.

      God, he was adorable. Unflappable. Edible.

      Addie couldn’t help her grin. The modern flail. I like that.

      There was a fine line between slut and eager—hopefully she was still straddling it.

      Well, that’s what I look like when I try it. Laughing, he flapped his hands like wings. You want to try me out before buying in, we can throw a dollar in the jukebox, play some George Strait.

      Oh, cowboy, I can totally try you out. She dug a dollar out of her purse. It’s so much nicer than just starting out with nice boots, wanna fuck?

      He took her hand and

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