Junkyard Dog by Bijou Hunter
Dedication
Freckles, Tigger, Pooh, and Roo for owning my heart
Mustang Sally for the millions of pep talks
Candy Girl Miranda for keeping me sane and helping me grow
Saucy Sarah and Jazzy Jaimie for being beta reading babes
Naughty Nicole for her kind heart and endless energy
Jim Croce for the inspiration of “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown”
Book Summary
Angus Hayes is as mean as a junkyard dog. Well, that’s the rumor Candy Wilburn hears before taking the job as his assistant. Hayes doesn’t disappoint. He’s a giant man with a big mouth and a bigger ego. In the town of White Horse, what the gorgeous and dangerous Hayes wants, he gets. Now he wants his sassy assistant.
Candy has no doubt Hayes will make a great lover, but she doesn’t want to be her boss’s booty call. At first anyway. Once he shifts from boss to friend and lover, Candy falls hard. Now she can only hope the filthy-mouthed outsider she loves can open his heart and learn to trust.
ONE - CANDY
I’ve only heard horrible things about Angus Hayes. He’s a ruthless man and all-around terrible person. He’s often compared to a junkyard dog. The * apparently rules the small industrial town of White Horse with an iron fist. After hearing so many bad things about him, I’m not surprised the bastard can’t keep an assistant. Lack of social skills aside, Hayes offers a solid salary and full medical for the position, and I’m lured to give the job a try.
His office is a concrete mass likely capable of withstanding a natural disaster or zombie apocalypse. The front door weighs, at least, fifty pounds, and I struggle to open the damn thing. Inside, I find a large front office filled with stacked boxes and discarded furniture. Before I wonder if I’ve stumbled into a storage unit, a woman pops her head up and stares shocked at me.
“Are you Candy Wilburn?”
“Yes.”
“You came,” the frazzled blonde says, gesturing me closer. “A lot of people chicken out when they have interviews with him.”
I check my simple black blouse for fuzzies and then ask, “And you are?”
“Oh, I’m just the temp. A few girls at the agency and I trade off days here. No one can deal with him for…” The woman’s eyes widen. “I’m not sure if I should warn you or if warning you will make you run.”
“I don’t run especially not in these shoes,” I say, glancing at my slightly scuffed black heels.
The woman follows my gaze down to my shoes and then she focuses on my face long enough to lie. “He’s not so bad.”
I slide off my jacket and shake out my long, blonde hair. “I’m ready whenever he is.”
The woman hurries to the back room and mumbles something. Hayes yells that he can’t hear a f*cking thing she’s saying. I jump at the sound of his booming voice and wonder if he’s hard of hearing.
After a minute, the woman returns looking extra rattled. “He’s ready for you.”
“He isn’t naked, is he? I’d like to prepare for whatever weird behavior this guy might pull.”
“No, he’s not weird. Just…” She pauses and considers her words. “He’s high maintenance.”
“Aren’t all men?” I ask, but she only stares at me. “Can I go back now?”
Nodding, she says nothing. Her fear doesn’t bode well for me, but unless the guy is handsy, I’m taking the job. Hell, I’ll put up with handsy if he adds vision to my benefits package.
When I enter, Angus Hayes is standing with his back to me. The guy is huge at over six and a half feet. No wonder the ceilings are tall in his bunker office. His hair is nearly black with a few stray grays. Going for a lumberjack look, he’s wearing a flannel shirt, blue jeans, and hiker boots. I suspect he shops at a special store for giants. Will part of my job involve picking up his oversized clothes?
Hayes turns to me and frowns like I’m annoying him. His people skills are stellar right off the bat.
“Wilburn?” he asks, sitting in a monster-sized chair behind a messy as hell desk. I’ve never seen so many post-it notes in my life.
“I prefer Candy.”
“What’s that short for?”
“Candy.”
“Your mother didn’t love you much, did she?”
“My mother adored me,” I say, sitting across from him. “She just loved sweets more.”
Hayes doesn’t react. “You don’t have any experience running an office.”
“That’s not the most important fact about me.”
“What is it then?”
My brown eyes find his nearly black ones, and I hold his gaze. “I’m excellent at tolerating *s.”
The corners of Hayes’s mouth curves upward. “You suck at interviews.”
“You suck at keeping employees.”
Hayes looks at my resume. “Did you hear about that all the way from Cincinnati?”
“My sister lives in White Horse.”
“What’s her name?” he asks before throwing up his hand. “Let me f*cking guess. Your sister is Honey Mayer.”
“Mom loved her sugar.”