The One You Want Read online

  "We won't fight," Dane said, voice soft but confident. "I came here to apologize."

  Kenna groaned. "Not this again."

  "Yes, this again. I made another mistake, and I'm hoping you'll forgive me as easily as before." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I was--am--attracted to you, too, Kenna. It hit me the wrong way, and I reacted poorly. I tried to make it stop, and I'm sorry."

  The burst of honesty nearly undid her. She gulped.

  He reached out, drew his arm back, then reached out again, this time taking her hand. "Go out with me."

  Like...on a date?

  Her first instinct was to shout "yes, yes, a thousand times yes!" And she almost did it. The thought of going to dinner with him, of being the woman sitting across from him rather than the one serving him...having him gaze at her with longing, walking her to her door, kissing her...thrilled her to the bone. But what would happen next?

  Would they have sex?

  And then what? Would they keep dating? Or would he work her into his rotation of women?

  Would she come to resent him for his lack of commitment?

  "I might hate myself later," she said, opting for honesty, as well, "but I'm going to decline. We agreed to be friends, and I'd like to continue that way."

  Determined now, he scooted his chair around the table, moving closer to her without ever releasing her hand. "I don't want to be your friend, Kenna. I want to be more."

  A lump grew in her throat. Unable to speak, she shook her head.

  "Why?" he insisted. "Because I'm an ass?"

  "You are. Sometimes. But that's not why." Do it. Tell him. She swallowed and said, "You're a bad bet, Dane. For me, I mean. Only for me."

  He flinched, and she wanted to donkey punch herself in the throat. Making him feel bad about himself wasn't her goal.

  "You don't understand," she said.

  A muscle ticked below his eye. "Then help me."

  Where to start? "I was scrawny as a teen and no one ever asked me out. My only friend was Brook Lynn and with her inability to leave her house without earmuffs, she was just as uncool. We never went to parties, until the Anderson boys threw a kegger. Jessie Kay got an invite, and we snuck out to go with her. We were so thrilled to be there with actual college boys we got caught up in the excitement. Brook Lynn passed out in a closet at some point. I drank too much and ended up in bed with..." She lowered her voice, shame dripping from her next words. "Three of those college guys. Three, Dane. It was humiliating, and disappointing. A mistake I couldn't take back."

  He stiffened. "You were underage. They were not. They took advantage of you."

  "I was willing."

  "You weren't in the right state of mind to decide, honey. And if I didn't know it would put you through hell, I would find out the names of the boys and--" He cut himself off. Rage had caused his pupils to flare like pure obsidian glitter. "Tell me the rest."

  She gulped, saying, "Kids were still there when I woke up, and they saw me. The look in their eyes..." A shudder rocked her. "I never want to see it again. Then, of course, I found out I was pregnant and more than just kids looked at me that way. Because, yes, while we live in a society used to young, unwed mothers, there's still judgment. You know there is. But now, my past is finally white noise in the background, at least for the most part, and I just don't want to drudge everything back up by becoming one of your many women."

  Silence.

  This one wasn't awkward, but it was tense.

  The rage drained from him, and he squeezed her hands. "I hate that you went through that, but I like the woman you've become."

  He wasn't condemning her, and his support hadn't wavered. He sympathized. He...cared.

  He was only the third person to do so. The other two were her roommates. Tears burned the backs of her eyes.

  He forged ahead. "I've never done a commitment, but there's something about you that makes me want to try. I won't see anyone else while we're together. And we can take things slow. As slow as you want, as long as we are together. And if you feel better sneaking around at first, fine. No one has to know."

  "I...I..." Didn't know what to say.

  He cupped the back of her neck and urged her forward until her nose brushed his, his warm breath fanning over her lips. "I've never desired anyone the way I desire you. You are all I can think about, all I care about. I'm useless at work and apparently a major asshole. More of one than usual. I yell at everyone. I can't sleep, barely eat. I look at pictures from the engagement party and wish you were with me."

  She...couldn't...process...

  "If you need time to think about this, fine," he said. "That's okay, too. I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. I bought the ranch to be close to you. I won't be able to stay there all the time since I still work in the city, but I'll be in town a lot more often."

  "Like...this weekend?"

  "Especially this weekend. Friday is the fourth of July, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be." His stare intensified. "I'd love to meet you in town for the go-big-or-go-home celebration. I can pretend I'm enjoying the fireworks, as long as I see you."

  Had any woman ever been able to resist him?

  "We'll even knock another item off your list," he added, as if she needed more convincing.

  "I do have the holiday free, but..." But what? Jumping into the water with all her clothes on had lacked something with West. He had laughed and thrown her a towel, but Dane might have gathered her against his hard, broad chest and warmed her that way. "Yes," she whispered, excited already. "I'll meet you on Friday."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE GOOD PEOPLE of Strawberry Valley had transformed Main Street for the fourth of July celebration. Traffic had been blocked off from both sides, allowing twenty different booths to be set up. At least ten of those were selling different strawberry-themed desserts. The other ten were strawberry-themed games. Pin the Strawberry on the Sundae. Strawberry Jar Toss. Strawberry in the Haystack.

  A dance floor had been set up at the far end of the block, and a live band played next to it. Adults and teens were two-stepping, and little kids were running around as if their feet had been set on fire. Dane looked around. No sign of Kenna and Norrie yet.

  His nervousness returned. Tonight mattered. He had to get it right. Had to convince Kenna to give him a chance. The time away from her had only made him want her more.

  He had no idea how to make a relationship work, especially with a woman who would have fed everyone she encountered a spoonful of sugar if she could have afforded it. Far too nice for me. But as he'd told her, he wanted to try.

  And if he didn't get his hands on her soon, he might as well lock himself inside a padded room and throw away the key.

  Dane spied West in front of the strawberry cone booth, talking with two guys he didn't recognize, and walked over. Along the way, two people stopped him to ask him for a loan. One guy asked him for advice on how to pick up women, and an older woman mentally stripped away his clothes--he was sure of it. He didn't remember any of their names, but they treated him like a long-lost benefactor, displaying zero reluctance and a truckload of expectation. Ah, the joys of small-town living.

  When he finally made it over, West gave him a cocky grin. "How are things with Miz Kenna?"

  "I don't think I like her name on your lips."

  The grin only grew wider. "Boys, this is Dane Michaelson. The one who stole my girl. Dane, this is Jase Hollister and Beck Ockley. My friends, business partners and the newest residents of Strawberry Valley."

  Jase was a big guy. Tall and seriously stacked with muscle, with dark hair and the coldest green eyes Dane had ever seen. His arms were heavily tattooed and looked like they covered scars, and there was even a tattoo peeking out the collar of his shirt, skirting the edge of his neck. His shirt was plain and black, his jeans ripped in several places. He wore two silver necklaces, and had leather cuffs circling both of his wrists. There were even rings on many of his tattooed fingers. But on this guy, the je
welry did not look feminine. Not with that rough, rugged face.

  Had Dane been a lesser man, he might have found the intensity blazing off the guy intimidating. Jase looked as if he only ever smiled after he gutted puppies and skinned cats.

  Beck was almost as tall, with a slightly leaner frame. His hair was dark blond and messy, and his eyes brown. He was masculine, yet almost pretty--a panty melter, said a girl passing by.

  "Welcome to town," Dane said. "Stay away from Kenna Starr and we'll be fine."

  The big one, Jase, crossed his arms over his massive chest. "Is it true you stole her away from West?"

  Dane had a split-second thought that his life hinged on the answer, but he didn't exactly care. Jaw clenching, he gritted, "She was never his."

  "Is that so?" said the other guy, Beck. His tone was so cold the air actually chilled.

  Dane stood his ground. "Yeah. That's so."

  A moment passed. Any second, he expected fists to start flying. Maybe a knife to slide into his gut. These guys were obviously as close as brothers and would protect each other from any threat. Then the corners of Jase's mouth twitched.

  He looked to West. "You were right. He's a goner."

  Goner? What the hell?

  "Poor guy." Beck patted Dane on the shoulder. "Hope she's worth it."

  Six words, but Dane was able to peg the guy. Total cynic.

  Like I used to be.

  Used to be?

  Yeah...maybe.

  "Good news is," West said, "we'll get to watch the show."

  A girl who looked to be in her midtwenties stumbled over to their group. The scent of strawberry liquor wafted from her. She cupped Beck's cheeks as she swayed on her feet and said, "I'm Charlene Burns. Tell me you're new to town and that you're here to stay and I'll make you the happiest man in the world."

  "I am new to town and I'm here to stay," he said, all kinds of seduction in his voice.

  "He lives with me and Jase," West said, wrapping his arm around his friend.

  The girl had eyes only for Beck. "Good, because you are so freaking hot, I want to lick you up like one of those ice-cream cones they're handing out."

  "I might just let you, darlin'." A smile designed to make angels weep spread across his face. "Although, I have to admit I was just thinking the same thing about you."

  "And your voice! It's as sugarcoated as the rest of you." She played with the lobes of his ears. "Do you want to get married and have a million babies with me? Because my answer is yes."

  While Dane would have cringed in horror, Beck took her hands and kissed her knuckles. "Why don't we practice making babies?"

  "Done! And there's no better time to start." The two ambled away.

  "He'll have ten other pretend baby mommas by the end of the week," Jase said drily, but the affection was clear in his tone. "Even though I told him not to shit where he eats."

  "Poetic," Dane said.

  Jase shrugged. "I'm a romantic at heart."

  He was so deadpan, Dane laughed out loud.

  A little boy about Norrie's age walked up to the booth, a couple of dollars peeking out of his grip. But rather than approach the counter to request a cone, he stopped to wipe his nose with his free hand and peer up at Jase. "You're a giant. Want to hear a joke?"

  Jase looked around for help, found none, then shrugged again. "Uh, sure?"

  "What did the fan say to the blow-dryer?"

  "What?"

  "Why don't we blow each other."

  Dane nearly choked on his own tongue.

  Jase covered his mouth with a tattooed hand. "Who told you that joke, kid?"

  "No one. Heard my dad tell it to my uncle."

  "Johnny!" a female voice called. "Get over here. Now!"

  The kid looked over his shoulder, shouting, "But mahhhm! I ain't got no cone yet."

  Her gaze skittered over Jase. "Now!"

  Johnny sighed. "Gotta go." Off he went.

  Dane followed him with his gaze--and that's when he spotted Kenna. He nearly went down as if he'd been tranqed. Magnificent. Her hair flowed around her shoulders in crimson waves. She wore a T-shirt and a miniskirt. Her legs seemed to stretch for miles, ending in scuffed cowgirl boots.

  Am I drooling? I think I'm drooling.

  Jessie Kay was with her, Norrie between them. Kenna bent down, speaking to her daughter at eye level, before the little girl ran off to play with her friends.

  West was speaking, but Dane had already tuned him out. He walked over to Kenna, as if in a trance.

  "You made it," he said, wanting to touch her. Have to touch her.

  Jessie Kay spotted the guys he'd been standing with and called, "Oh, sweet! New man meat's made it to town, y'all. Let's gobble." She strutted over to introduce herself.

  "I made it," Kenna confirmed, glancing down at her feet.

  Shy now? "Dance with me," he said.

  She looked up, startled, her eyes going wide. "I don't dance."

  Because of her past? He dared anyone to say an unkind word about her. There would be hell to pay. "Correction, honey. You didn't used to dance. You do now." He led her to the dance floor before she could protest and joined the other two-steppers. He hadn't done this in a long time, but quickly picked up the rhythm and guided Kenna through the steps, one hand twined with hers, one on her lower back.

  He stealthily lifted the hem of her shirt until he was able to work his fingers underneath the material, to her skin. She gasped at the moment of contact, and he moaned. She was as soft as silk, and warm, so wonderfully warm.

  People stared at them. Some smiled while they did it. Some gaped with shock. He didn't care, but knew Kenna might--which was the only reason he never urged her flush against him.

  Instead, he lowered his head and whispered, "Did you think about my offer?"

  "That, and nothing else."

  Calm. Steady. "And?"

  Her free arm slid up the ridges of his spine, stopping at his nape. She played with the ends of his hair, saying, "And...I want to give this thing a try, see where it takes us."

  Joy. Arousal. So much arousal. Possessiveness. Each flooded him. Kenna was now his. Her smile, her laugh--his. Her body--his and his alone. She'd said so.

  The blood in his veins instantly caught fire.

  "We'll keep it secret at first, just like you suggested," she continued, "and you have to stay away from Norrie. I won't have her growing attached to you."

  He heard the implication of her words. Only to lose you later. He wasn't sure why it bothered him, when it was exactly what he wanted--what was best.

  "And you can't see other women," she added. "I mean it. That's a hard limit."

  Now that only added fuel to the flames of his desire. "I won't. You have my word. And you will not see other men. Hell, I don't think I want you talking to one."

  She rose on her tiptoes, whispering, "Is it wrong how badly your words are turning me on?"

  His hands squeezed on her. "I have to kiss you. Right now."

  She licked her lips. "Okay, but where should we go? I can't stray too far from Norrie."

  He heard the edge of need in her tone, and went painfully hard. "I know just the place."

  With the last of his control quickly fraying, he dragged her away from the dance floor, behind the nearest booth, right in front of Rhinestone Cowgirl, where light from the streetlamps didn't quite shine. They were suddenly surrounded by shadows.

  He turned and pushed Kenna against the brick wall, careful to cushion her head with the back of his hand, and then he basically dived on her. As his mouth pressed against hers and she gasped, the sky exploded with colorful lights, fireworks taking flight. He seized on her openness with a vengeance, thrusting his tongue past her teeth. Damn! Her taste was so sweet he knew no dessert would ever be able to compare.

  At first, she passively accepted his attention, as if she feared making a mistake. But then, oh, then, she relaxed and began to participate, rolling her tongue against his, sucking on him, nibbling on his lo
wer lip. He couldn't get enough of her, was sinking into some kind of passionate insanity, spiraling, loving every second.

  Her hands made their way through his hair, over the wide expanse of his shoulders, and her nails dug into his back, applying pressure, drawing him closer...closer...He died a thousand deaths, desire rising up and slaying him again and again as he pressed his erection between her legs and ground against her.

  Had anyone ever been this turned on?

  He deepened the kiss, losing all finesse, operating solely on instinct. "I want you. Want you so bad."

  "How bad?" She undulated her hips, causing him to press against her with more force.

  The exquisite friction nearly caused his eyes to roll back in his head. Kissing her like this, touching her, was better than being naked with any other woman. "Honey, you say the word and I will drop to my knees right now and show you how bad."

  A shiver stole through her. One he recognized.

  She liked the idea.

  But he didn't do it, because she didn't say the word, and he didn't want to move too swiftly with her and risk scaring her away. Didn't want anyone stumbling upon them. Must slow down, or I'll forget my good intentions. He gentled the kiss in an effort to cool the fire still raging in his veins. Didn't help.

  His hand found her breast. She was plump there, soft and real, her nipple hard for him.

  "Dane, I...that..."

  He pinched lightly, and she moaned. "More?" he asked.

  She nodded wildly.

  He gave another pinch, harder this time. "I'll give you more...as much as you can take."

  "Dane," she gasped again.

  "Did you wear a skirt just to torment me? I bet you did. Freckles has a naughty side, doesn't she?"

  Her only response was a groan. She was past the point of sanity, too, and had reached that moment when there could be no turning back, when nothing mattered but reaching completion. She clutched at his shoulders, desperate. "Don't stop."

  The possessiveness expanded, taking up more prime real estate in his chest. "Nothing will stop me now." He dived back in for another kiss, playing with her tongue, while running one hand up her bare thigh. Goose bumps broke out over her skin.

  When he reached the bottom edge of her skirt, he kicked her legs apart. She gasped, and he swallowed the sound, loving it, wanting more of even that. He traced the edge of her panties. Tremor after tremor rocked her, coming in long, sweeping waves.

  "You wet for me, honey?"