I was in love with Daddy.
“Guys, can I get you something to drink?” the wrangler-jeans-and-pearl-snap-shirt-wearing waiter asked.
We both opted for a Shiner Bock because there was no reason not to enjoy the open bar and buffet. We’d already piled our plates with brisket and the fixings once, but I could be convinced to go for another round. I’d never seen a beer waterfall thingy before, but that was the showpiece at the center of the table. Ridiculous and over the top, sure—but also kind of beautiful. Like a Vegas fountain, if Vegas fountains flowed with beer instead of water.
Drinks on the way and food in hand, I leaned forward, practically bouncing, as we watched from our spot on the riser overlooking the ring. All around us, bidders shouted across the room at each other, hugged, and egged each other on to spend more and more money. It was hard not to get caught up in the excitement—whenever someone won, everyone around them went wild, hooting and hollering and stamping their feet like they’d just run a marathon. My heart thumped like I was the one holding the paddle. It was pretty exciting, even if I couldn’t follow the auctioneer’s dizzying pace. The scoreboard above his head scrolled through the numbers, higher and higher.
I got sidetracked by the astronomical amounts posted. It felt like we’d swerved straight into crazy town. We hadn’t even reached the big-money steers yet, and the price board already flashed ten thousand for a trio of chickens. Thirty thousand for a single goat. Fifteen thousand for two kids. The kids—the human ones—beamed proudly as they showed off their animals. You could see the hours of mucking stalls and brushing coats written all over their faces. It was something else.
“How do you decide which animals to bid on?” I asked Daddy as another crate of chickens exited the ring.
“We try to focus on the ones at the lower end of the scale. The top ones are always gonna get bids, and they’re gonna be huge. So we want to get the kids at the bottom.”
“How huge?”
“Last year, the grand champion steer went for over a million dollars.”
My jaw dropped. “Holy crap. Are you serious? One million for a cow?”
Daddy nodded like it wasn’t the most bananas thing I’d ever heard. “It’s been a couple of years, but there was a goat at four hundred, and I think a sheep last year went for almost two.”
“Thousand?” I squeaked. For a second, my brain thought he meant a million again, and I was ready to faint.
“Yeah. I mean, they were records, but it happens. All these kids work hard, so I’m not taking anything away from record breakers, but most won’t see that kind of money. We try to spread it around by focusing on the bottom.”
“Seriously though—why are they called cartels?”
Daddy smirked. “I’m gonna have to think up a really good story to answer that because I really don’t know. But I can tell you how we got our name, if that helps.”
“Yeah, I think I can figure out whereSteers and Queers Syndicatecame from,” I said with a laugh. I pulled the program guide out of my pocket and slapped it open like I was about to win big in Vegas. “Okay, Daddy, let’s get serious. How are we spending this money?”
He showed me the champions section. “Mark those off. We know they’ll go high. While they’re doing those, here’s our sweet spot.” He tapped the names toward the bottom of the program, like we were in on a secret the rest of the room had missed.
“Do you have a strategy?”
“Well, I thought about it on the way over here, but I’m not sure it’s gonna work.”
“Well, let’s hear it.”
“It’s really complicated, kind of convoluted, but let me see if I can explain.” The twinkle in his eyes was unmistakable. Daddy was serious most of the time, so I loved it when he let the silly out. Not a lot of people got to see that side of him, and it felt like a happy little secret between us.
“I’ll give it my best shot,” I said wryly.
“Okay, but I don’t wanna overwhelm you with the science, so…drumroll please…” Daddy waved his hands like he was unveiling a grand invention. “We go with their names.”
I burst out laughing. “Great minds think alike.” I leaned back smugly. “That was my plan too.”
“Let’s hear your favorites. And do you have an animal preference?”
Daddy’s smile was indulgent, making my insides turn gooey-soft. Oddly enough, it had the opposite effect on my cock. The other bidders probably wouldn’t appreciate my problem, so I shifted slightly to hide it. Daddy gave me an odd look but didn’t say anything.
The truth was, anything that man did or said was too damn sexy. His rumbly voice? Hard. He handed me a pen, and his calloused fingers brushed my arm? Hard. His woodsy, citrusy scent drifted my way? Hard. It bordered on ridiculous—but I liked it.
“Any of them?”
“Well, chickens are off the table, but sure. Our cartel has about thirty thousand to spend.”
“Thirty thousand dollars?” My jaw-drop habit was getting old. “Are you serious?”
