by Dawn McClure
He let it go and went to work on opening the place up. There wasn't a breeze to be felt, even when he started opening windows. The cabin did have a musty smell to it. He doubted the brown, shag carpet helped. The cabin looked like a love nest from the late nineteen sixties. No doubt it had sat unused for at least a year, considering the amount of dust coating the window sills. The windows were hard to get open. Some wouldn't open at all.
When he was finished with opening what windows he could, he headed toward the light emanating from the lantern. Misty wasn't in the living room anymore. He found her in the kitchen, leaning against one of the counters, staring at her cell.
They may be covering uncharted territory, but he knew that look of hers. Something was bothering her. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice him standing not ten feet from her.
While driving to the cabin, he'd gone over the events of the day. He’d woken up to Matt and Misty in a fight about the date David had taken her on. Then Misty had told him she didn’t know how she felt about the two of them. Twenty minutes later they agreed to be a couple and start dating. He’d held her hand for the first time in years. Faced Big Mike for the first time in weeks. The fight between her and Caroline. Jesus. What else could happen in one short day? He wanted to knock on wood after thinking that, figuring Karma might have a little more fun with him before the day was through.
Tomorrow was going to be a busy day as well. Matt was probably going to corner him about staying with Misty at her cabin, if his crazy ass didn't show up tonight. Shit, he wouldn’t be surprised if Brandon dropped by.
He cleared his throat and waited for her to turn his way or acknowledge his presence. When she didn't, he wondered what she was doing on her cell. Hell, he'd give just about anything to know what was going through that pretty head of hers.
Everything was unbearably hot.
David, the house, her cheeks from all the blushing she’d been doing. The thought of stripping down to her underwear and heading to the lake held appeal, but that would probably be a bad idea. She was already having a hard time trying to keep her shit together where David was concerned. There wasn't a man alive that looked as good as David.
Okay, maybe. But none that she knew, and certainly none that were currently wandering around her rental cabin opening all the windows with his T-shirt stuck to his sweaty muscles like a second skin. An iceberg could slap her stone-cold in the face and she'd still be hot all over. At the ripe young age of twenty-two, she was certain she wasn't having a hot flash. Nope. It was all Marine-induced.
The chiseled abs, broad shoulders, and heavily muscled thighs and arms…sweet Jesus. When a man's thighs pulled against his jeans, there was muscle there. And she wanted to touch it. What woman wouldn’t want to run her hands over a powerful male body?
And David was that and then some.
She'd gotten a small taste of all that muscle in the hayloft just this morning. Not exactly enough to be a meal, but certainly an appetizer. Her palms had glided over nearly every inch of his body. She knew what he felt like. What he smelled like. And those abs of his were...mouthwatering.
Good Lord, she was turning into Abby. There was more to David than muscle, but she sure as shit couldn't think of anything right now. Not since she'd walked up to the porch and he'd been settled back against the steps, legs kicked out, his T-shirt pulled tight.
Maybe she should do what she’d seen her mother do at the grocery store when having a hot flash and stick her head in the freezer.
The cell in her back pocket dinged to signal a text had been received. She pulled it out, thinking Matt had finally put two and two together. She'd likely see something like: Is David over there? Or You're moving too fast. But the text wasn't from her brother, it was from Brandon.
Are the two of you dating?
Misty quickly texted Brandon back. Yes.
Maybe if she didn't beat around the bush, Brandon would move forward with that blonde he'd been with at the Roadhouse. Not that being direct had stopped his advances in any way since their breakup, but she figured it was worth one last shot. Misty wasn't going to mention the date he’d gone on. She didn't think she needed to.
You're making a mistake.
Was that a threat? After what he’d said regarding her job in Rapid, she wouldn’t put anything past him. She wasn't going to text him back. Wasn't going to open up a conversation with him about this. It just wasn't worth it. In fact, she was going to block him right now.
“It's a damn hot one tonight.”
She jumped at David's voice. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his biceps bulging. She hadn't even heard him approach. Glancing down at the brown shag carpet, she realized why.
The sight of David washed Brandon's text out of her mind completely, and she set her cell on the counter. She was already hot, and not only because of the temperature. She wasn't a prude. She just didn't want to go straight to the very thing that had sent him running four years ago. Yeah, it would probably be different now. She doubted he'd hightail it out of town, but that was the rub—the fact that he'd done it in the first place.
They hadn't even decided on sleeping arrangements yet. There was only one sleeping bag.
And the hot flash just got hotter...
“Is everything okay?”
She realized she'd been staring at his chest. That sweaty T-shirt sure didn't leave much to the imagination. She could see his tattoo through the worn white cotton. Technically, they were boyfriend and girlfriend. She had every right to pick up where they’d left off in the hayloft. He certainly wouldn’t object.
Get yourself together. She managed to look him in the eye. “Oh, yeah. I was just thinking.” Thinking we said we'd take this slow. Coming to the conclusion that we can’t.
“About?”
You. “You know I'm leaving at the end of July.” Might as well be honest. Get it out of the way. What did this leave them? A couple weeks to hookup? Was that what she wanted? She hadn't weighed all the possibilities when they'd sat in the barn, but even knowing she was leaving soon, she still wanted to pursue this. “I... We said we were going to take this slow.”
Caroline’s words slapped her in the face. “You might call me a slut, but I would never have gone back to a man who did me like he did you. Yeah, I might be a slut, but you're stupid as hell.”
Maybe Caroline was right. Maybe things had just changed so fast Misty was having a hard time keeping up. She felt a little like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One minute she was all for this and the next she wasn't. One minute she wanted slow, the next she wanted to throw him on the ground and yell cowgirl up!
“You don't want me to leave,” he said quietly. “But I absolutely will if you ask me to.”
She should have known he'd see right through her. They might be testing the relationship waters, but they were the farthest thing from strangers two people could be. From coloring books on cold winter days to cheering for him on the sidelines of high school football games, they'd done everything together. No, she didn't want him to leave. She just wanted to prepare him.
Prepare herself.
“No, I don't,” she answered honestly. She didn't want him going back to the guesthouse with Caroline there. Deep down, she knew damn well he'd never do anything with Caroline, and maybe she’d always known that but had wanted something to fuss about. The woman just wasn't his type. But the thought of him at that house with one of the horniest, immoral, depraved women in town made her skin crawl.
“Then what's wrong?”
I want you, but I'm afraid what will happen afterward. Nope, she shouldn't say that either. She was drowning here, not knowing what to say. What to do. Cracking under the pressure she blurted, “Do you want to go to the lake?” When he gave her a strange look she clarified, “I mean...it's so stifling in here. Maybe a quick swim would cool us off.”
Which one did that make her? Dr. Jekyll?
He looked her body up and down, not exactly hiding
what was on his mind. “You bring a suit?”
Her bathing suit, along with all her clothes, had been destroyed with her parents’ house, and she hadn’t bought a suit in Aberdeen.
It suddenly hit her that his jersey had been lost to the storm. His football jersey had been the only thing of his she'd kept—well, technically stole—and brought to college with her. She felt a physical pain in her chest and set her palm against it. She’d worn that jersey through most of college, even when she’d convinced everyone—including herself—that she hated him.
Pushing that sad thought aside, because she was literally about to ugly cry, she tried to focus on what he'd said. She hadn't bought a bathing suit yet. “No.”
He raised his eyebrows.
She felt stupid. “Just a quick dip. I'm not suggesting skinny dipping. We don't have to. It was just a suggestion.”
“I don't have a shy bone in my body. You're the one throwing off virginal vibes.”
And she knew she was. It was different with him. She and Brandon never talked about sex. She rarely thought about sex with him even when they'd been having it. It was just what they had done as a couple. It hadn't been very exciting.
Just being around David made her think about sex. Hell, all he had to do was look at her and she was ready. Same as when they'd been in the back of his pickup four years ago. First time he'd kissed her. First time he'd tried to get in her pants, and she hadn't uttered one word of discouragement.
She just wasn't ready to cross that bridge with him yet. Too many painful memories. And what about their ticking time bomb of less than a month? Don't think about it. “Do you want to go or not?” she snapped.
Yikes, now she was sounding downright bitchy.
“You're one big bag of mixed signals, you know that? One minute you're kissing me, the next you act like my teasing you is off-limits, and now you want to go swimming in our skivvies. What is it, Misty? I need to know where you're drawing your line in the sand, because I know there's a line. You just keep moving it.”
Here comes Mr. Hyde. “I'm not ready to take anything to the next level. I don't want you to leave and go back to the guesthouse, but I'm not going to lie, you being here is kicking me into high gear.”
He smiled. His straight, white teeth gleamed against his tanned skin in the semi-shadowed kitchen. “Well, at least I have that going for me. For a minute there I thought I had offended you. Now that I know you're just jacked-up and horny—”
“Line.”
His laughter filled the empty house. “Fair enough, sweetheart.”
Chapter 19
She wore black lace under those ripped shorts of hers.
David had brought the lantern to the lake for a little added light. He wished the damn thing was brighter. If someone had told him three weeks ago that he'd be swimming in Garner Lake in his boxer briefs in the middle of the night with Misty Evans, he'd have asked them what they were smokin'. Even as the cool lake water lapped against his chest, and Misty stood at the edge of the lake testing the water with an extended foot, he still had a hard time believing it.
“Is it super cold?” she asked, dipping a toe into the water's edge for the umpteenth time.
“It's freezing,” he called out. “You might want to take your time getting in.”
For a second it looked like she thought he was serious, but when she realized he'd been joking so she'd stand there in that black lace a little longer, she tilted her head and made a face. “Line.”
He groaned. That line bullshit was going to be a thorn in his ass, he could already feel it. But for her, he'd manage. He couldn't rightly fault her for the way she felt toward him in that regard. He hadn't been bullshitting when he said he had a lot to make up for. He knew he did. And that was why he was going to allow her that line he knew she didn't really want between them.
Since that morning, when they’d agreed to pursue this, the idea of her leaving in July had been on the peripheral of his mind. The end of July was far enough away that he could worry about it later, but close enough to rub him raw. There was no possible way he could leave his mom when his dad wasn't up to running the ranch. Leaving Garner wasn't an option. That would mean weeks, if not months, of not seeing Misty.
His mind couldn’t hold the negative thoughts for long. Not when Misty was standing there at the edge of the lake bathed in lantern light and wearing little next to nothing.
Damn that woman had a body. He'd seen her in bathing suits before, and to be fair, her black lace bra and panties were similar, but she'd definitely changed since her high school days. Amen, thanks be to God, she'd changed. Her breasts were fuller than what he'd remembered, and from their time in the hayloft, he knew they were about a handful. Her waist was tiny, hips generous, and legs lightly muscled. She was toned and tanned and had a little extra in all the right places.
He loved that she ate. Some chicks—namely Caroline—thought guys wanted some stick-thin, skeletal-looking body. Why in the hell would a man want thin and boyish when he could have curvy and sexy? Thankfully, when it came to Misty, fried foods seemed to win out over the desire to be a size four. Misty was always checking that watch of hers to see how many steps she'd taken throughout the day. There was absolutely no need for her to lose a single pound. She was perfect.
Once she was thigh deep, she lunged into the water with an elegant breaststroke. Her hair fanned out over the ripples she'd made, but she kept her head above water. “Ooohhhh, God it feels so good.”
“Line,” he quipped.
There was enough light from the lantern and the full moon that he could still see her expression as she swam toward him.
She smiled. “I wasn't talking about you, snowflake.”
“It was the sensual tone you used. I'm calling for a safe zone.”
“Are you making fun of me?” she asked, swimming closer to him.
Yeah, he was, but the closer she got, the less he felt like joking. But he'd give her the space she asked for. He owed her that much. Maybe reaching for a safe zone wasn't such a bad idea. “You going back to the ranch in the morning?”
“Yep. I texted Matt that I'd be there first thing in the morning. I guess he’s not aware that you’re over here, or he doesn’t care, because he didn’t say anything about it. All he texted back was that tomorrow I have cattle, while he and my dad will be baling hay. I'll probably end up helping them at some point.”
That left just him and Tucker at the house. Tucker would probably pop in before it was light outside and be gone by noon. David could check on cattle and make sure everything was good and ready for his parents to come home. He was trying to think about anything other than how close he and Misty were and how little clothing they were wearing. Being hard half the night was proving to be uncomfortable, especially knowing there would be no relief in sight.
“It's gonna be another hot one tomorrow. We need rain.”
Misty laughed as she glided through the water toward him. “Have we really fallen so low that we have to talk about the weather?”
Mixed signals much? “Misty, you're killin' me here.”
He could tell she tried to touch the bottom of the lake, but couldn't, so she treaded water. His instinct was to reach out to her and give her something solid to hold on to, but he refrained. She was calling the shots, but she was as terrible with her moral aim as she was with the .45—hit and miss. He had no clue where that damn line of hers was from one moment to the next.
She kept skimming water, sweeping her arms out and making ripples between them. He moved a little closer to the shore so that she could touch the bottom, but she stayed where she was.
“I guess when it comes to the two of us I’m not sure where we stand. I'm sorry.”
Not as sorry as he was. “So, what do you want to talk about?” he asked.
She kept treading water. “How are the sleeping arrangements gonna go tonight? I'm thinking, since it's so hot, if we just lay the sleeping bag down and lay on top of that we wouldn't need cov
ers.”
She was going to kill him all right. What had he thought would happen when he'd come over here, just the two of them, hormones flying in every direction? Jesus, the woman had worked him up something fierce in the hayloft. He hadn't pushed her then either. But now that they were staying somewhere where her brother wasn't a door down...damn. “Maybe this isn't such a good idea.”
“You can't control yourself for one night?” she said, a little smile on her face.
“Not where you're concerned,” he said, trying to make light of the situation, but only managing to make himself sound like a predator. “That came out wrong. It's not that I can't keep my hands to myself. I think if we want to end the night with you on one side of the blanket and me on the other, jumping into the lake in our skivvies isn't exactly the way to go about it. But you said you wanted to take this slow, and that’s what I’m trying to do. Only you seem slightly confused as to whether you want slow or not.”
She kept treading the damn water, refusing to come closer to him. Her arms had to be getting tired. Her chin was dipping lower and lower into the water as the minutes passed by.
“What would you do in my position? Sleep with the same man who hightailed it out of town, made me a laughingstock, and didn't even have the decency to say goodbye? What...after one date?”
She didn't know all the circumstances, and he wondered if he should take this opportunity and tell her. He hadn't had much of a choice at the time. “It's not the same now, and you know it.”
“I don't know anything when it comes to you now. I may have known you growing up, but you disappeared for four years. Hell, you wouldn't even friend me on Facebook.”
“I don't have Facebook,” he said in his defense.
When she started to struggle a little, he held out his forearm for her to use. She grabbed on and breathed a sigh of relief until he pulled his arm closer to his chest, slow as molasses. He was waiting for her to say he was crossing the line, but she didn't.