by Jennie Marts
He reared back, his shoulders tensing as if ready to fight. “I never said she was stupid. She’s one of the smartest women I know. She’s juggling a farm and a thankless job as a waitress, and she still has time to rescue animals in need.”
“Oh, so you do think she’s intelligent?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then why don’t you trust her judgment when it comes to choosing the kind of man she wants to go out with?”
Her reasoning hit him like a punch to his gut. He had no response. Then he remembered the last guy Bryn had gone out with, the one who’d acted like he cared then stolen her blind. “Bryn may be smart, but she’s lacking in common sense when it comes to choosing men. Brody’s a much better choice for her. In fact, I even encouraged her to go out with him.”
“Speaking from the perspective of most women, I’m sure she appreciated you making that choice for her.”
Her sarcasm was not lost on him. He tossed back the rest of his frozen margarita, cringing at the brain freeze. “I didn’t realize you were such an expert at relationships.”
Kim shrugged. “I’m no expert. In fact, I have a history sort of like yours, but I try to learn from my mistakes.”
“I do too.” Which was why he was staying away from Bryn. Kimberly may have had a similar background growing up—it was no secret in town her mom had a drinking problem—but she didn’t know his history. Didn’t know the things he’d seen, the things he’d done. She didn’t know about Sarah.
He peered down at his plate, the congealed orange grease next to the taco shell suddenly making his stomach turn. His appetite gone, he just wanted to leave. This had been a dumb idea, impulsive and reckless. Just like him. “I’m done. You okay getting that fried ice cream to go?”
Twenty minutes later, he dropped Kim off at her car where she’d left it in the grocery store parking lot. She’d given him one last half-hearted offer of having a drink at her house, which they both knew didn’t have anything to do with an actual drink. But he declined, and she didn’t seem to really care either way.
“Thanks for dinner.” She held up the take-out container. “And the fried ice cream.”
“You bet.” He was tempted to say maybe they could do this again sometime—it seemed the right thing to do—but he knew he wasn’t interested in doing this again. And most likely, neither was she. It was kind of an asshole thing to do to just wave and drive off. But then again, hadn’t it been well established already that he was kind of an asshole?
He did wait for her to get in her car and pull out of the parking lot before he muttered, “See ya around.”
Putting the truck in gear, he pulled out behind her and turned toward his house. He caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, the jagged scar a constant reminder of his self-worth. Or lack of self-worth. He was nothing. Nobody. Bryn was good and kind, and she deserved a good man. One she didn’t have to be ashamed of. One who didn’t wake up at one in the morning with night terrors, and one who didn’t hurt the people he loved.
She deserved a guy who took care of animals and was sweet to his kid. She deserved Brody Tate.
* * *
Later that night, after Brody had dropped her off, Bryn poured a glass of wine, then sank into the corner of her sofa. She’d changed into her pajamas, a pair of sleep shorts and a little tank top, and pulled her hair into a messy bun. Not the ending some women would hope for after a date with a handsome veterinarian, but it worked for Bryn.
She’d had a nice time with Brody. It was obvious as he picked her up and they drove into town that they were both a little uncomfortable in the role of “date” instead of “friend.” They’d never had trouble chatting before, but tonight their conversation was initially stilted as they reached for things to talk about. But after settling into the booth and ordering some food, they fell back into more of their normal rhythm.
It helped that they’d known each other a long time, so they could talk about people in town, some of his latest cases, Bryn’s new horses, and, of course, Mandy. That was a topic Brody could talk about all night. His eyes lit up and a broad smile creased his face whenever he talked about her. She was his pride and joy. And the feelings were well deserved—Bryn thought the world of the ten-year-old girl.
Their date might have gone better if she hadn’t spotted Zane when she’d got up to go to the bathroom. The nerve of that guy. Pushing her into this date, trashing the food at the Creed, then showing up there with a date of his own. That took a hefty-sized set of cojones.
Not that she wanted to think about his cojones. Or about him at all. So why had she just pulled up the horse rescue page on Facebook and opened the video of them kissing? Because she was an idiot, that’s why.
Maybe she just wanted to prove to herself that it hadn’t been that big a deal. That her chaste good-night kiss earlier from Brody was perfectly acceptable, and she’d only made the kiss with Zane seem more heated and passionate than it really was.
She caught her breath as she stared at the screen, swallowing at the rush of heat that tightened her chest as she watched Zane pull her close and take her mouth in a hard kiss.
Uh, yeah. That was a little different than the kiss with Brody. Especially since they both had turned at the same time and his lips had only hit one side of hers. And there had definitely not been any tongue. Bryn took a long swallow of wine to try to quench her suddenly dry throat.
She watched the kiss twice more, her skin heating more with each viewing. Stop it. She had to stop. This was only making her crazy—in both her mind and her body. She switched to the live feed, hoping that watching the tranquil horses grazing would calm her.
Beauty and Shamus were standing by the fence. That was odd. They didn’t usually stand right next to each other. The gray was across the corral, but he turned his head and trotted to the other two. What the heck?
Bryn touched the screen to make the view larger and let out a gasp. A chill ran through her as she stared at the dark figure of a man standing at the fence.
Chapter 11
Bryn couldn’t make out his features in the dark, but she could definitely tell it was a man. And a tall one.
Seriously? What the hell was going on? First her brother mysteriously appeared in her kitchen and scared the hell out of her, now another strange man was sneaking around her corral. Well, this time she wasn’t scared—she was pissed off. This was her property, and she was done being afraid of who was showing up on it.
She pushed off the sofa and raced to the front closet. Searching the contents, she grabbed an old baseball bat of her brother’s. A can of bear spray sat on the top shelf, and she grabbed that too. Yanking open the front door, she stepped onto the porch and screamed into the dark. “Whoever the hell is out here, I want you to know I’ve got a gun, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
The light from the porch only illuminated a small circle. She held her breath as she peered into the inky blackness of the farmyard. One of the horses whinnied, and she could hear hoofbeats trot across the corral.
“Don’t shoot,” a voice called from the dark. “It’s just me.”
“Zane?”
She let out a shaky breath as Zane stepped into the circle of light. He eyed the baseball bat in her hands. “Is that thing loaded?”
She lowered the bat. “No, but this can of bear spray is. And it will deploy a twenty-five-foot hot cloud of pepper spray if I press the nozzle.”
“I’d rather you not press the nozzle then.” He shielded his eyes with his hand. “Can you hit the light? The moths are going crazy.”
She narrowed her eyes, studying him as she set down the bat and the can of bear spray. He was dressed in running clothes again, shorts, sneakers, and another T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. What did this guy have against sleeves? The front of the shirt was dark with sweat. She swatted at a moth, then reached inside the door and turne
d off the front porch light. “What are you doing out here?”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Sometimes when my brain won’t shut down, it helps to go for a run.”
“And you ran all the way out here?” She leaned a hip against the side of the porch railing as her eyes adjusted to the dark.
He furrowed his brow. “It’s not that far. It’s only a few miles out of town. We ran farther than that in basic.” He moved his head and scanned the corral, as if the horses somehow held the answers he was looking for. “I didn’t know I was headed here until my feet turned in to your driveway. They have a way of doing that.”
“What? Taking you where you don’t want to go?”
He shrugged, then turned his gaze to meet hers. “I don’t know. Maybe they take me where I do want to go but I’m too stubborn to travel there on my own.”
Oh.
She swallowed, suddenly unsure of what to say and trying to look at anything other than the array of skin and hard muscle on display. “So why couldn’t you sleep?”
He raised his shoulders again. “Too pissed off, I guess.”
Bryn jerked back. “At me? Because you’re the one who pushed me to go out with Brody, then showed up at the Creed with a hot date on your arm.”
He blinked. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Then who are you pissed off at?”
“Myself mostly.” He blew out a breath, then turned and sank down onto the top porch step next to her leg. “And circumstances, I guess,” she heard him mutter.
She took a tentative step forward and eased down on the step next to him. “What circumstances?”
Zane rolled his shoulders as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “The circumstances that keep a guy like me from going out with a girl like you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? If you wanted to go out with me, why didn’t you just ask?” Her temper flared at his detached response.
“Come on, Bryn,” he scoffed. “You know why.”
Okay. This guy was really starting to piss her off. “No, I don’t know why. Why don’t you enlighten me?”
He shook his head, not speaking, his lips pressed together in a tight line.
She stared hard at him, as if daring him to say he was too good for her. “Come on, Zane. Tell me why a guy like you doesn’t want to go out with someone like me. Am I not good enough? Not pretty enough? Don’t have boobs as big as Kimmie Cox?”
His eyes widened as he reared back. “Not good enough? What the hell are you talking about? You’re too good. You’re the most beautiful woman I know. And I don’t have first-hand knowledge, so to speak, but your boo…” He dropped his gaze to her pajama top, then raised his eyes back to hers. “Your chest seems pretty great to me.”
Her nipples tightened under his stare, and she suddenly realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. And with the thin cotton pajama top, he probably realized it too. She crossed her arms over her chest and offered him a scowl. “Then I don’t understand.”
He scrubbed a hand over his whiskered jaw. “I know you’ve met my dad.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So that’s the kind of man I came from.”
“And?”
“Damn it, Bryn.” His voice came out in a tortured growl. “Don’t make me say it.”
“You’re going to have to say it because I’m in the dark here. I don’t get what your dad has to do with you asking me out.”
“He has everything to do with me asking you out. Everything to do with why I can’t, I won’t ask you out.” He stared at her, his pain-filled eyes beseeching her to understand. “That’s the man who raised me. The only time my old man was nice to me was after he’d knocked me across the floor or whipped me with a belt. The rest of the time he was drilling into me what a no-good loser I am.”
She sucked in a breath. “That’s not true. You’re not a loser.”
He pushed up from the steps. “It is true. I’m not like you, Bryn. You’re good. And kind. You’ve got a heart as big as that barn. My heart’s broken. And I don’t mean like that sappy shit in romance movies. I mean it doesn’t work. I tried it out once, and that ended in disaster.” His jaw tightened as he spoke, and his hands curled into rigid fists. He pounded one against the front of his leg. “Don’t you see? I’m no good. I’ve heard it all my life, and I know it’s true. I’m broken.”
Bryn raised a hand to her mouth, her heart breaking at his words. “No, you’re wrong.”
His eyes darted up and down the driveway as if looking for an escape. “I am wrong. This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here. You should be with Brody. He’s a good man. Or maybe with that other guy you were with this afternoon.”
“Other guy? What other guy?”
“The one you were hugging in your kitchen.”
Her mind searched for what he was talking about. Oh for Pete’s sake. Seriously? Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know I was hugging some guy in my kitchen?”
“Because I stopped by earlier. To apologize. Or whatever. But you seemed like you were indisposed.”
She threw her hands in the air. “Are you kidding me? Why didn’t you knock on the door? Or let me know you were here? Then you could have seen my brother. Because that’s who I was hugging in the kitchen. It was Buck. But no, you didn’t knock, you just made up your mind and assumed you were right.”
He shook his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I should go.” He turned and strode up the driveway.
Bryn shoved off the steps and ran after him. She grabbed his arm, and he spun back around, anger flashing in his eyes. His body tensed, but she didn’t back down. She planted a hand on her hip. “You can stare daggers at me all you want, Zane Taylor. You don’t scare me.”
He leaned over her, his broad shoulders menacing as his arms pressed out from his sides. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed into intimidating slits. His voice was low, threatening. “You should be scared.”
Bryn pressed her shoulders back, standing taller as she jutted out her chin. Her pulse raced, but she didn’t back down. “The only thing I’m scared of…” She paused to swallow and try to control the tremble in her voice. She could stand as tall as she wanted, but saying the next words took more than a raised chin. It took guts and the courage to pull up the declarations and say them out loud. She started again. Her voice was quiet, but her resolve was strong, and she didn’t waiver. “The only thing I’m scared of is you walking away.”
He sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “Damn it, Bryn,” he muttered as he shook his head and stared down at his boots. He raised his gaze, his eyes beseeching her to understand. His voice was thick, husky, as if the words hurt his throat to speak. “Don’t you get it? I’m trying to head this thing off at the pass before you get hurt. And I guarantee you, being with me is going to hurt. And I couldn’t live with myself if I did anything to damage you. I’m not the guy who deserves that sweet look you’ve got in your eye. I’m not the guy you want.”
“How do you know what I want?”
“Because you told me. You said you were looking for someone nice and safe. And I’m never gonna be that guy. I’m not the prince in this story. I’m never gonna ride up on a white horse to save the day.”
“Who asked you to be?”
“Me,” he snarled, leaning toward her and pounding a fist against his chest. “I asked me to be. That’s the kind of man you deserve and the kind of man I want to be for you. But that’s not who I am. And I never will be.”
Her throat hurt with each breath she took, and her palms ached where her nails dug into them. The nerve of this guy. “You know what, Zane? You are really starting to piss me off.” She uncurled one fist and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
He reared his head back. “No.”
She jabbed him again. “Do you think I can’t make up m
y own damn mind?”
He covered her hand with his and pressed it hard against his chest. “I think you see the good in everyone, and you’re trying to see something in me that just isn’t there.”
She held his gaze, her jaw tight, determined. “Yes, it is there. I see you for who you are.”
“No, you don’t. You think you do, but you don’t know the things I’ve seen and done.” He slid his hands up her neck and cupped her face in his palms as he pressed his forehead tightly to hers. “You’re kind and sweet and so damn beautiful. Sometimes I look at you and have to turn away because the things I feel for you make my chest hurt so hard I think my bones might rip apart. I don’t know what to do with that, Bryn. I wish I did. I wish with everything in me that I knew how to be the man for you I want to be so bad. But all I know how to do is hurt people. You’re always trying to save everybody, and I see it in your eyes that you think you can save me, but I’m beyond redemption. I’m no good.”
“You’re good for me,” she told him as she reached up and covered his hands with hers. Her voice broke as she whispered, “And did you ever think maybe I’m the one who needs saving? I don’t need a knight on a white horse or a storybook prince. I just need you.”
His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead harder against hers. Pulling in a ragged breath, he opened his eyes and dipped his head to slant his lips along hers.
Heat shot through her veins as his mouth ravaged hers. His lips were soft but demanding, and she pressed into him, trying to convey the depth of her feelings through the intensity of the kiss. Which was really freakin’ hard since her knees were threatening to give way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on to keep from melting into the ground.
He held her face, his palms tender as he deepened the kiss. One hand slid around the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair.
They stood in the driveway, holding on to each other as they kissed. A flash of lightning lit the sky—a warning from the heavens perhaps—and small drops of rain started to fall as thunder rumbled in the distance.