Arm Candy Read online

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Arm Candy

  ISBN # 978-1-907280-15-3

  ©Copyright Carol Lynne 2009

  Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright November 2009

  Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

  Total-E-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, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-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 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road

  , Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-sizzling.

  Cattle Valley

  ARM CANDY

  Carol Lynne

  Dedication

  For my new buddy, Ethan Day. Your kindness and friendship means the world to me.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

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

  Jaguar: Jaguar Cars Ltd/Tata Motors Limited

  Mercedes: Mercedes-Benz/Daimler AG

  The King and I: Rodgers and Hammerstein.

  Newsweek: The Washington Post Company

  Westworld: Written and directed by Michael Crichton

  The Ten Commandments: Paramount Pictures

  The Magnificent Seven: TheMirish Corporation/United Artists

  Chapter One

  Mario Benta was wiping down the exercise bikes when Rio returned from a long lunch. The grin on the big man’s face said it all.

  “Productive lunch, I take it?” Mario asked.

  Rio winked. “Very productive, thank you very much.”

  Mario tossed the rag over his shoulder and neared the juice counter. “Nate still talking to that architect fella about designing a new arena?”

  Rio finished chugging a glass of apple juice before smacking his lips. “Yeah. The big argument now is who’s going to pay for it. Nate’s insisting on using his own money, but Ryan and I are trying to make him understand that his money is best used for other things, like supporting the shelter in DC.”

  “As much attention as Cattle Valley has received since that damn article came out, I’d think we could push for corporate sponsors or something.” Mario wasn’t a businessman, but even he knew the arena would cost millions. There was only one person in town with that kind of money, and if Asa Montgomery hadn’t offered to open his wallet by now, it wasn’t going to happen.

  Mario grabbed the rag from his shoulder and tossed it into the laundry bin. Thinking about Asa in any way had the ability to both depress and piss him off. “Guess I’ll run to Deb’s and get a bite to eat.”

  “K,” Rio answered as he refilled his juice glass.

  Mario was almost out the door when the phone rang. He stopped and turned around as Rio answered.

  “Hold on.” Rio grinned and held up the phone. “It’s Asa.”

  Mario shook his head. “Tell him I’m out to lunch.”

  Without waiting, Mario left The Gym and climbed into his beat-up pickup. He turned the key and prayed the damn thing would start. He knew it was time to trade the old girl in, but he’d been with Lola for going on thirteen years and he couldn’t bear to part with her.

  After several attempts, Lola roared to life with a spew of black smoke. He chuckled and shook his head. It was a wonder the environmental activists weren’t camped out on his front lawn.

  He pulled onto the road and headed for the diner. For over two weeks he’d been avoiding Asa’s calls. The first time he’d picked up his home phone and saw the man’s name on his caller ID, he’d almost jumped out of his skin.

  Admittedly, he was excited at first, but that feeling soon turned into anger. For two days following the grandstand’s collapse, he’d waited at the hospital hoping Asa would call for him. Every time he inquired about seeing his friend, he was informed by one of Asa’s minions that he didn’t want any visitors.

  The hurt and anger over the dismissal had Mario letting the call go to his answering machine. Afterward, he’d listened to the message and promptly deleted it. What the hell was wrong with that man? First he’d refused to see him at the hospital, and then he had the nerve to offer Mario a fucking salary to help in his rehabilitation. With all his money, Mario knew Asa could afford a full-time, live-in therapist if he wanted.

  What hurt the most was Mario knew he’d have helped Asa for free if he’d just asked instead of treating him like a pest those few days following the tragedy. Now the man couldn’t pay him enough for forgiveness.

  His cell phone started ringing as he parked in front of the diner. He grabbed it off the seat and looked at the display.

  “Hey,” he answered.

  “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Asa, but he told me to tell you he’d double it. What the hell’s that about?”

  “Fucker.” Mario took a deep breath. “I’ll go over and give him my answer in person.”

  “Don’t say anything you’ll regret. I know he hurt you, but he’s had a rough time of it,” Rio reasoned.

  “Later.” Mario hung up and headed towards Asa’s monstrosity of a house.

  How dare that sonofabitch try to sway his decision with more money. Mario pounded his fist against the steering wheel. The way he felt, Asa would be lucky if all Mario gave him was a good tongue lashing because what he really wanted, was to punch the jerk in the face.

  He pulled up to the fancy-assed security gate and pushed the call button.

  “Yes,” an unknown woman’s voice answered.

  “Mario Benta here to see Asa,” Mario barked.

  “One moment.”

  Mario tugged on the small patch of hair under his lower lip, something he often did when he felt stressed. Several seconds later, the black iron gates swung inward.

  Pretentious bastard. Mario drove down the long winding drive and pulled under the extended portico that hung over the driveway of the log and stone home. Mario jumped out and climbed the steps.

  Before he even had a chance to knock, the door opened and an elderly woman beckoned him inside.

  “Please follow me,” the woman said.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Mario tried not to look around at the towering wood-beamed ceilings or two-story river rock fireplace. He would not be impressed with anything Asa owned, no way, no how. The woman who Mario assumed was the housekeeper led him to a large glass enclosed room at the back of the house.

  “Your guest, sir,” she announced.

  “Thank you, Ms. Guttenberg.”

  With his hands fisted at his side, Mario got his first look at Asa since that horrible day. He was surprised to see the usually impeccably groomed man so dishevelled. Not only did it appear that Asa had forgone shaving, but Mario guessed he’d lost a good deal of weight. Who the hell was taking care of the man?

  “I see you got my message,” Asa greeted with a smirk.
<
br />   That one facial expression pushed Mario back into the land of pissed. “I got it, and I came over to tell you to blow your offer out your ass. I wouldn’t work for you if you tripled the salary.”

  Asa seemed stunned by Mario’s answer, but he evidently had too much pride to argue the point. “Very well. I won’t bother you again.”

  Asa returned his attention to the view out the floor to ceiling windows. Mario studied the object of so many of his fantasies with pity more than anything else. Where were all his groupies? He almost asked, but thought better of it and turned to leave.

  “If you change your mind…” Asa started to say.

  “I won’t.” Mario didn’t bother waiting for Ms. Guttenberg to show him out. He flew out of the house and jumped into his pickup, leaving the mansion in a cloud of black smoke.

  He wasn’t sure who he was more pissed at, himself or Asa. The damn guy had hurt his feelings on more than one occasion, yet Mario still felt sorry for him. The popular millionaire not only looked like shit, but Mario had a strong sense that Asa felt like a steaming pile as well.

  Mario steered the truck in the direction of The Gym, no longer in the mood to eat. As he drove, his anger began to slowly evaporate. Despite everything, he knew he still had feelings for the wealthy bastard. If only he wasn’t such an ass.

  * * * *

  “Sir, there’s a call for you,” Ms. Guttenberg announced, handing Asa the phone.

  “Who is it?” he mouthed. Secretly he hoped Mario had finally changed his mind.

  “It’s your sister,” she mouthed back.

  Asa rolled his eyes. Not once since the accident had his family called to inquire about his health without finding a way to ask for more money.

  “Hey, June,” he answered.

  “How are you, Asa?” the thirty-four year old mother of five asked.

  “Mending. What can I do for you?”

  There was a short pause before his sister spoke. “Well, it’s not really for me exactly. Dean turns sixteen next month and he needs help buying a car.”

  “He needs help, or he wants me to buy him a car?” he asked as if he didn’t already know the answer.

  “Well, it’s not like he can get a job without one. He’s considering looking for a job after he gets it, but Dean said he could help pay you back, if you insisted.”

  “What happened to the days of walking the neighbourhood offering to mow people’s yards to earn money? That’s what I did.”

  “Yes, we’re all quite aware of your self-made status, Asa. We just figured since you bought one for Allan and Julie, that…”

  Asa blew out an exaggerated breath. He was so damn tired of the never ending hands being held out. “Tell you what. You tell Dean if he earns five hundred bucks the old fashioned way, I’ll get him a car.”

  “You’re not serious?”

  “That’s the offer, take it or leave it.”

  There was another pause. “I’ll talk to Dean.”

  “Fine. Let me know what he says.” Asa readjusted his right leg to rest more securely on the pillow. “Is there anything else?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll talk to you later, sis.” Asa hung up and tossed the phone to the table beside him. He felt like a giant ass for refusing his nephew something that wouldn’t begin to put a dent in his petty cash drawer, but maybe it would be good for the boy.

  His parents had worked their fingers to the bone to give him and his four siblings a place to live and food to eat. Asa knew it was their determination to succeed that had taught him the value of a dollar. What lessons were the new generation of Montgomerys learning?

  “Excuse me, sir. Would you like lunch out here or in the dining room?”

  Asa grinned. It didn’t matter how many times he told Stella to call him Asa, she still insisted on the formalities that she felt went along with her position. “I’m not hungry, but thanks.”

  He heard that all too familiar click she made when she disapproved of something. “Perhaps I’ll check back in an hour to see if you’ve changed your mind.”

  “Very well.”

  Stella retreated to do whatever it was she did, and Asa sank further into his chair. He clasped his hands on his chest and studied the view once more. It was a long way from the basement he’d practically grown up in. With seven people in a three bedroom house, he’d been the odd man out and had been relegated to a corner of the unfinished basement in his family’s western Kansas home.

  Asa chuckled. Little did his family know he’d taken that forced exile and used it to design his first software programme. He’d always been one of those odd kids who never seemed to fit in. At the age of six, he started taking things apart to see how they worked. By the age of eight, he could put them back together, and by nine, he could make them work again.

  Asa sighed. And by the age of twenty-six he was already a millionaire with two deceased parents and a butt load of relatives looking for hand-outs. The siblings and cousins who hadn’t given ‘the basement dweller’ the time of day growing up, suddenly expected him to support them.

  The thing that really pissed him off was the fact that he’d actually done it. He’d been so hungry to surround himself with family that he’d allowed them to sponge off him for years. It wasn’t until his accident that he’d learned the truth about his family.

  Shaking his head, Asa berated himself for the momentary pity party. He deserved everything he got and he knew it. He’d been so blinded by the trendy people that had suddenly fawned all over him, he’d lost sight of what really mattered. It became quite clear after the first week that his so-called friends were getting bored. They’d even had the nerve to ask him if he would send them on a European cruise during his rehabilitation.

  Asa knew he was naïve, but he sure as hell wasn’t stupid. He’d sent them away on the cruise they’d asked for, but told them not to come back. What good had it done? He was sure they’d already latched on to another gravy train, some other poor sucker looking for friends in all the wrong places.

  So here he sat, a forty-three year old man, alone. The house he’d worked his entire life to afford held no joy for him.

  Asa’s thoughts drifted to Mario. God the man was gorgeous. He’d wanted him since he’d first set eyes on him. It quickly became apparent that Mario was way out of his league.

  Not only was Mario hot, but he didn’t seem to care a flip about Asa’s money. For most people that would be considered a plus, but for Asa it only proved he’d never get a real chance with the guy. Without the money’s influence, Asa was an average-looking, middle-aged man with a receding hairline.

  He knew offering to hire Mario might blow up in his face. He also knew it was a combination of the need to see the man and being just a tad angry with him, which had prompted the extreme offer.

  After his realisation that his so-called friends weren’t friends at all, he’d at least hoped the friends he’d made in Cattle Valley would still be there for him. But twelve weeks since the tragedy and Mario never had bothered to inquire about his health. Nate had been around on several occasions, but Asa felt it was more out of guilt than anything else.

  “Hell, maybe I should just sell everything and buy a deserted island. At least then I’d have a good excuse for feeling so alone.”

  * * * *

  By the time Mario returned to work, he was confused enough to pull Rio aside the first chance he got.

  “What’s up?” Rio asked, taking a seat on the couch in his office.

  “Have you talked to Asa lately?”

  “No, but I know Nate’s been out a couple times, why?”

  Mario put his feet up on the coffee table, clasping his hands behind his head. “He doesn’t look good.”

  “I’m sure it’ll take a while before he’s up and around.”

  “No, it’s not that. He just doesn’t seem like himself.” Mario knew he wasn’t making sense. “Okay, you know how usually appearance is everything to that guy? Well, I don’t think he’s eve
n bothered to shower for a week or so. I know he hasn’t shaved.”

  “You’re right. That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “I know, and now I’m getting worried.”

  “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

  Mario nodded. “I mean, how many times can you get snubbed by a guy before you give up on him?”

  “Other than the hospital, when has he snubbed you?”

  “All the time. Like at the festival, when we were sitting in the shade. He was right there, but did he even bother to come over and say hi?”

  Rio chuckled. “I don’t remember you getting off your ass to go say hi to him either.”

  “What’re you saying?”

  Rio shrugged. “Just that the two of you have danced around each other long enough. If you want him, now’s the time to get him.” Rio winked. “He’ll be a hell of a lot easier to run down with two broken legs.”

  “If he wants me so bad why wouldn’t he see me at the hospital?”

  “I don’t know. Have you ever asked him?”

  Mario let out a snort. “Yeah, like that wouldn’t sound desperate.”

  Rio playfully elbowed Mario’s side. “It sounds to me like you’re both pretty miserable. Why don’t you take the chance? What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Mario began counting his internal arguments off on his fingers. “I end up looking like a fool. I end up with my heart broken,” Mario glanced at Rio. “That’s a big one. I find out he’s using me for sex and the way I look.”

  “Shit. Not the whole arm candy argument again,” Rio sighed.

  “Hey. I’m the product of arm candy. I know what it does to a person.” Mario bit his lip. Even though Rio was his best friend, spilling his family secrets wasn’t something he’d meant to do.

  He could feel Rio’s eyes on him. Rio was too polite to ask, but Mario knew he either needed to explain the statement or be prepared to receive that look twenty times a day.