Dakota Storm

by Dawn McClure

  Not since David up and left.

  “He doesn't seem your type,” he heard himself say. He took a quick swig of beer, more surprised he'd given voice to his thoughts than she probably was. And by the look on her face, she was plenty surprised.

  “And what? You think you are?”

  He licked the beer off his lips and leaned toward her, feeling the buzz from the alcohol when he said, “Yeah. I think so.”

  Before she could respond, Matt walked up and handed her a longneck. “Keg is tapped. This is all Jeff has left.”

  She took it and snapped her mouth shut, when two seconds before it had been hanging open. Well, wasn't he full of surprises tonight? Had to be the tequila. Still, getting a rise out of her was much better than her staring daggers at him all night.

  Daggers you deserve.

  Matt handed him a fresh beer. “So what are you going to do now that you're home? Keep to the ranch?”

  David nodded with a beer in each hand now. He barely kept his gaze off Misty. He drank the remainder of the first beer and tossed it into a trash can. “That's the plan. The old man's getting up there in age, and my mom said he's been getting out of breath lately. Thinks maybe he should visit his doctor.”

  David didn't mention their problems. He had never said much about his father in front of Misty and Matt. Coming from a family that reminded him of an episode from Leave it To Beaver they'd have never understood. Yeah, they knew Big Mike was gruff, but they’d never known just how much it had affected David and his mom. On the other hand, Caroline, coming from a broken family too, had completely understood. It was the main reason he'd started hanging around her. He'd needed to vent to someone, and when he'd started venting to her, he’d finally felt like some of the weight had been lifted.

  “Yeah, like I said, your dad's run off all the hired hands in the area. You came back just in time. He can't run that ranch by himself, no matter what he thinks,” Matt said.

  Boy, would Big Mike disagree with him on that. A sane rancher would know that one person couldn’t run the show by himself. David hoped he and his dad could get along better as father and son, but he wasn't holding his breath. Easing the strained relationship was one of the big reasons he'd come home, but he’d be realistic and take what he could get.

  His other big reason was standing there nursing her beer and looking at anyone but him.

  She had a boyfriend, he reminded himself. And even if she didn't look particularly happy with Brandon, it was none of David’s damn business. It didn't change the simple fact that she was with another man, and he'd never been the type to hit on another man's girl.

  You just did.

  Misty started peeling the label off her longneck. Her hair fell into her face, and she tried to blow the heavy strands back with a quick puff of breath. He wanted so badly to tuck them behind her ear, just like she'd done earlier, that he made a fist with his free hand to keep it where it was.

  “The last hired hand was from Ipswich,” David said, trying to keep up the conversation. “Dad said he was a lazy SOB.” It was likely not the case at all, but who wanted to argue with his dad? Arguing with Big Mike just wasn't worth it.

  “Yeah, when Misty and I got back from college, Big Mike called us over to help him with a few birthings. I think that hired guy lasted about a day after we got home. Big Mike expects us to come running whenever he needs help. Messed up thing is, we do, which is why he keeps doing it. I mean, how can we not? He’s like family.” Matt had one hand in his jean’s pocket and the other holding his beer. He was looking between David and Misty as though one of them were going to disappear.

  David wanted to disappear. Before he'd come home, it had never once crossed his mind that Misty would have a man in her life. And why the hell hadn't it? She was young. Gorgeous. Fun. And apparently, she was completely over him and had moved on. Not that they'd ever been an official couple. Just as close as one, although he'd never asked her out. Never asked her to be his girlfriend. And they'd never acted on whatever they felt for each other until that night in his pickup.

  She hadn't talked to him in months until that night, and just being that close to her again...hearing her voice… He'd said and done things he'd only dreamed of with her before.

  Looking at her now, he'd kill to go back to that night. Kill to stay in Garner and fight for what he wanted instead of running like a coward.

  He let it go and made small talk until Abby came back and joined their little group. “Jeff said we could take the couches in the basement. The guest room is already taken.”

  Neither Matt nor Misty looked thrilled.

  “Guess if my DD is staying, so am I,” Matt said, a frown directed at Abby. Abby only smiled at him. “I don't have to be back at the ranch until afternoon. Neither does Misty.” He looked at David. “Who's your DD?”

  Misty might not have to be at the ranch until tomorrow afternoon, but he doubted she wanted to stay at the bonfire with him around. “I'm staying. Parked my truck and plan to make a bed in the back.”

  It took a few seconds of dead silence before he realized what had just popped out of his stupid mouth.

  Wrong. Thing. To. Say.

  Same truck. Same bed. Same girl he'd shared it with within arm's reach. He tried to gain back his fumble even though he knew it was a long shot. “Brought a few pictures back from Afghanistan if you want to take a look,” he croaked to Matt, his stomach somewhere down in his jeans.

  “Yeah,” Matt said evenly. “I'd like to see them.”

  Matt might not have called him out, but his gaze spoke volumes.

  It was going to be one hell of a night if he couldn't control his mouth.

  Misty couldn’t remember the last time she’d gazed up at the stars on a quiet evening. There was something so relaxing about kicking back and stargazing, though she’d probably enjoy it even more if David wasn’t forty feet away.

  The bonfire had died down, and Misty and Abby were laying on their backs in the grass. Misty hadn't wanted to stay, but here she was. There might be a little part of her that would miss this town, but David's words had reminded her of why a fresh start was crucial.

  “Parked my truck and plan to make a bed in the back.”

  Good Lord Almighty had those words set the tone for the rest of her night. Thank God it was nighttime so no one could see the way she'd blushed from the tip of her head to the tip of her toes. Yeah. She knew that bed. Knew it all too well.

  “You gonna stay with Brandon?”

  Abby’s question caught Misty off guard. She turned her head in Abby’s direction. The grass tickled her cheek. Why wouldn’t she stay with Brandon?

  Misty knew anything she told Abby would trickle down the Garner pipeline, but that was the way it went with everyone in this town. She’d tell one person, who just had to tell one more, who had to tell their sister, who told their cousin, who shared it on Facebook. They really didn't mean much harm by it. And she supposed if she told Abby to keep something secret it wouldn’t go any further, but this wasn’t something she needed to keep to herself.

  “Absolutely. Why would you ask such a thing?”

  “Cut the shit, Misty. You were in love with David your whole life. Suddenly he's back in town and you don’t give a crap? As if your mind isn't going to weigh your options even if you don’t want it to. I saw the way he was looking at you. Besides all that, he's hot as hell.”

  Misty wasn't even going to touch Abby's first observation. “Brandon’s good-looking,” she said in his defense.

  Abby let out an exaggerated sigh. “He sure isn't David though.”

  Yeah, Brandon wasn't David. And wasn't that a good thing? Brandon had so much going for him. He was the most responsible and respectable man that she knew besides her father. The best thing about Brandon? He treated her well.

  David had been so wrong about Brandon not being her type. So what if Brandon didn't stir up passion with just a look? He was stable and considerate. David sure as hell wasn't her type. The last
thing she needed was another round of “why did he leave me?” Brandon would never have pulled what David had, which was why she was with him and why she was staying.

  But that night she saw Caroline all over David? Misty had seen red like she never had in her life. She'd never experienced raw jealousy like that. Then again, Brandon had never done anything to make her jealous.

  The run-in had really stirred up the tomboy in her, and she'd wanted to hurt Caroline with her bare hands. If Misty had been a few years younger, she'd have thrown a punch Caroline wouldn’t have seen coming.

  “You don't honestly think I should dump Brandon for David, do you?” Misty asked. “What is everyone's problem with Brandon? Name one thing he's done that comes close to what David did to me,” she demanded, her voice rising with every sentence. “Name one reason why I shouldn't marry him and start a family.”

  Abby turned her head to look at her. For someone who usually reminded her so much of her laid-back brother, her best friend looked a little too intense for having thrown back several shots of tequila. “I will, but you have to answer one question, and you have to answer honestly. Zero bullshit. And remember who you're talking to.”

  Misty rubbed her closed eyelids with her thumb and forefinger. “Oh my God, Abby.”

  “I’m serious. I remember you telling me you loved David in the third grade.”

  The reminder nailed Misty square in the chest. The familiar ache surfaced whenever she thought about David and their past. All the times they shared together.

  She remembered the exact place she'd told Abby that she loved David for the first time. They'd been playing tetherball on the elementary school grounds, but instead of keeping her attention on the game, Misty kept glancing at David while he played football with the boys on the grass. Abby had hit the tetherball hard, and not paying attention, Misty had been nailed in the back of the head. The ball had knocked her to the ground so hard that the teacher on duty had run over to check on her.

  After the teacher left, Misty had figured that was a good time to tell her best friend who she was staring at and why. While she laid in the sand, she’d looked up at Abby and said, “I like David Buchanan.”

  “You mean you like like him?” Abby asked.

  Not knowing how to put love into words at that age, Misty had just nodded at Abby. Yes, she liked liked David. And had liked liked him since the first day of kindergarten when he’d taken the seat next to her on the bus.

  That was the same day Abby had confessed that she liked Misty’s brother, because of course, one secret deserved another. Especially between young best friends.

  What question could Abby possibly want her to ask her that she didn’t already know the answer to? Did Misty even want to know? Misty swallowed and tried to sound normal when she answered, “Fine. I will.”

  Abby turned in her direction and propped her head on her palm. “Do you honestly feel nothing toward David? Come on, be honest. I won’t tell a soul. Do you feel anything?”

  What a complicated and ignorant question. One she didn't want to answer. One she'd asked herself over and over again the past few days. Yeah, she felt something toward him. “Honestly, I think I hate him.”

  Abby barked out a laugh.

  “What's funny about that? I'm serious.”

  “Because the line between love and hate is as thin as my tolerance for your bullshit right now. The only reason you'd still be pissed is that you still have feelings for him. Psych 101. You took it. Don't you see the relevance here?”

  It was human nature. When someone lost a loved one, the experience left a gaping hole that most people had to fill with something. For years she'd filled the hole David had left with sadness, regret, and a heaping dose of pity. Hell, she'd thrown a year-long pity party that had done what every diet had failed to do—taken several pounds off her ass. But at some point, it was time to buck up and pick yourself off the floor. Hate filled the gaping hole until the hurt disappeared. Hate worked better than sadness because it made a person feel stronger instead of weaker. Hate wrapped its evil claws around pity, called it a pussy, and kicked the shit to the curb.

  Not that she'd thought about it much.

  Misty had her own question to ask. “Now that I’ve answered your question, answer mine. What's so wrong about Brandon and me?”

  Abby didn’t hesitate. “Brandon isn't your type.”

  “You sound just like David.” Misty leaned up to take another sip of beer, then settled back down in the itchy grass.

  “He said that to you? When?”

  The surprised look on Abby's face must have mirrored what her own had looked like when he'd said it. “About two hours ago. Then he went on to say that he was my type.”

  “Holy shit, seriously?” Abby slapped her thigh and let out a hoot. “That's my boy. What did you say?”

  That's my boy? Just whose side was she on? “Well, I wanted to tell him to eat shit and die, but nothing came out. My mind literally shut down from his egotistical backhand, and before I could tell him he was smokin' something, Matt walked up.”

  Abby smirked. “Well, what would you have said? Other than eat shit and die, of course.”

  “That he's not, in any shape or form, my type. Are you kidding me, Abby?” Misty sat up and faced Abby. Agitation gave her a little boost of adrenaline. “He turned into a dirtbag in high school, screwed Caroline just about every other weekend, and then he up and left town after he took my virginity. Who does that? He made me a laughingstock in this town.”

  Correction, she made a laughingstock out of herself. She should never have crawled into the back of his pickup. There was a country song just itchin' to be written in there somewhere.

  Abby held up a hand in defense. “Girl, I was there. I held your hand while you cried and held your hair back when you puked after the night the girls took you drinking. You're right. He's an asshole. But I'll go on record to say that he's never slept with Caroline. Now before you bite my head off,” she said quickly, “I know what people say, but I just don't think he ever did. If he had, Caroline would have boasted about it like she does with every other guy she’s banged, especially since she was trying so hard to get him into bed. You know damn well she would have rubbed it in your face by now.”

  Abby fiddled with a blade of grass. Misty waited. She knew it was coming.

  Abby cleared her throat. “But...”

  “I knew it!” Misty hissed.

  “Hear me out!” Abby insisted, holding up both hands this time. “You two grew up together. Did everything together. You used to tell me you were going to marry him, and he was gonna run his daddy's ranch, and your brother was gonna run your daddy's ranch, and you'd live side by side... Misty, part of me thinks y'all are supposed to be together. It was never Misty or David back then. Your names were interchangeable. It was Misty and David. Twenty-four seven.”

  I know. I have the scars to prove it. “Things changed.”

  Abby tightened her ponytail and then slapped her palms against her thighs. “Listen, how about this? How about we make a pro and con list, like we did when I had to choose between Brady and Matt?”

  “We were fourteen.” And Misty didn’t want to point out that, though Matt had won, they still weren’t together.

  “You afraid David might win?”

  No, she wasn't. Not at all. Maybe just a little. “Abby, don't be ridiculous... Hey, where are you going?”

  Abby left and came back a few minutes later with a pen and a pad of yellow legal paper she'd snatched from the Harrington's house. “Okay. Here we go. May the best man win.”

  Misty rolled her eyes when Abby wrote Brandon's name on one side of the paper and David's on the other. She immediately wrote HAWT down on David's side.

  “Give me that.” Misty snatched the pad from her. She wrote good-looking on Brandon's side.

  “David is winning so far.”

  How much tequila had Abby had? “Abby, do you only look at the outside? Brandon is about to smoke his ass.”
She jotted down the words sweet and considerate since he never missed giving her flowers and a card on her birthday or Valentine’s Day. Next, she wrote down stable since Brandon was the most mature man she knew who was their age. Considering he was home early and not still at the kegger attested to that. Intelligent. No one could argue with that. He’d been valedictorian of both his high school and college classes. Brandon had also been accepted to law school. On a whim, she wrote down stuck around after we had sex underneath the word intelligent.

  Abby took the pad back. Underneath David's name she jotted down ex-Marine with a heart by it, and tattoos.

  “Wow. Keep going. You're proving my point.”

  “I'm not finished, smartass.” She then wrote down loyal and hardworking under David's name.

  Misty snatched the pen and the pad of paper away, gave Abby a look from hell, and scribbled out the word loyal so forcefully it ripped through the paper. “He's not loyal. That's the last thing he is.”

  “He made a mistake, Misty.”

  That had been one hell of a mistake. Misty ripped the piece of paper off the pad, folded it up, and stuffed it in her back pocket. “A mistake I'll never forget. You know, at first, I thought making this list was stupid and immature, but there's nothing like seeing the truth in ink. I'll just keep this around to peek at if I ever lose my mind and think to give up a good boyfriend for a lousy screw.”

  “Hey Misty!”

  With all the trucks’ radios off, and only a few people still shuffling around, Matt's drunken shout ricochet off the trees. She turned toward his voice, wondering if something were wrong.

  “What?” she yelled back.

  “Come here!”

  She groaned. “Come on, Abby.”

  “Naw. I'm gonna stay here. I had too many tequila shots. I know the earth moves and all, but I've never felt it move this fast before. Stumbled a few times coming out of the house.”