Page 224 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

A Cowboy To Call Her Own by Laylah Roberts

Chapter One

Reggie glared down at her flat tire in despair.

Muttering under her breath, she grabbed her cell phone and searched for a signal. But no matter how many times she searched, the bars refused to show up. Her curses grew louder as she threw the useless phone back into her car with a growl of disgust.

Fatigued and frustrated, tears welled in her eyes as she leaned against her car and closed her eyes. This had been the week from hell. Her tire going flat on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere with no cell phone coverage was the icing on the cake.

Gathering up the last of her dwindling energy, Reggie moved to the trunk of her car. There was no other choice but to change the tire herself, which wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the piles of luggage that sat in her way. Basically, everything she owned was now sitting in her car, which was pretty damn pathetic when she thought about it.

“Why couldn’t the stupid tire have lasted a few more miles?” she muttered to herself as she unlocked the trunk. Daylight was beginning to fade over the distant hills which just added to her misery.

“Damn it, this is hopeless!” She held back her tears as she pulled out each piece of luggage and dropped it on the ground. She wheezed, each breath a struggle.

The past week had been truly surreal, and at any moment Reggie expected to wake up and find herself staring up at the white ceiling of her bedroom, in the apartment she lived in with Lance. That she’d discover that this was all a dream. A nasty, horrid, crazy nightmare.

Everything had spiraled out of control when she’d caught Lance fucking their cleaner on the washing machine. He’d been away on a work trip, and she hadn’t even realized he’d gotten home. Ick. She shuddered in memory of his pale white ass pounding back and forth while Lucia had screamed loudly in Spanish.

She’d stood there like a dummy, unable to move until he’d finished. Which hadn’t taken long. Who knew if Lucia had gotten to come. Given that Lance was as selfish in the bedroom as he was in every other aspect of his life, that was doubtful.

Things had then gone from bad to worse when Lance realized she’d caught him. He’d shoved her against the wall as he’d yelled at her. Screaming that she was a useless fuck, so of course he’d needed to find someone else to screw.

Terrified, she’d managed to get free and run off to a motel. Only to get an email from HR that night telling her that she’d been fired. Oh, and the bastard also drained their bank account. She’d known she had to leave town. All of her supposed friends had sided with him, and none of them would help her.

Thankfully, she’d managed to sneak back into their apartment while he was at work. She’d used every piece of luggage in the house, including his expensive Louis Vuitton cases which had still been out from the trip he’d just returned from, to pack up everything and leave.

Now here she was, jobless, with everything she owned in the trunk of her car, covering the stupid spare tire and jack. All she had to her name were some clothes, this car, and a measly four hundred dollars. Luckily, her friend Kelly had come to her rescue, inviting Reggie out to stay with her and her husband.

She was broke. She was homeless. She was alone. And as she stared into the empty space where her jack was meant to be, she also realized that she was completely and utterly screwed.

Could things get any worse?

Alex pulled up behind the red car parked on the side of the road. The tiny, dark-haired woman didn’t even look up. She was too busy hopping around on one foot, while she tried to rub the toes on the other. He let a small grin slip, having a fairly good idea about how she’d hurt herself. Funny how kicking a flat tire never got it changed any quicker.

Climbing out of his truck, he frowned at the poor language spewing out of her mouth. She sure knew some interesting phrases.

Alex cleared his throat, hoping to gently introduce her to his presence. However, his efforts were wasted when she let out a loud gasp. As she turned quickly toward him, he saw a glimpse of her pale face before she bent over in a loud, chesty coughing fit.

He frowned at the sound of her hacking up half a lung. What the hell was she doing, driving around the country when she was obviously sick? She should have been home in bed with someone waiting on her hand and foot.

The image of her lying naked and glistening in his bed rose unbidden in his mind, but he quickly shook it off, surprised at himself. He didn’t even know her.

“Need some help, ma’am?” he asked.

The woman had gotten her breathing under control and was now sending him a suspicious look.

“Where did you come from?” she asked. Alex didn’t know if the huskiness of her voice was due to her coughing or natural, but his body sure as hell liked the sound of it.

“Well,” he said, scratching his head in his best good ole boy manner. “Best as I knows it, my mama and my papa decided to—”

“Stop right there!” She held up a hand, interrupting him, while her cheeks turned a delightful shade of red. “I don’t need to know your life story.”

His eyebrow rose warningly at her tone. Surprisingly, she backed down.

Puffing out a breath, she seemed to wilt right in front of him. “Sorry, I’m not normally so rude. Bad day.” She attempted a small smile, and he noticed that she had large dark circles beneath her eyes. Hell, the woman was sick and exhausted, and here he was standing around teasing her.

“I was driving home when I noticed your car,” he explained quietly, moving slowly towards her. She was as skittish as a colt and took two steps back as he approached her.

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