by Ashley Kay
Sighing, I climb out of bed and force myself into the shower to erase the heat creeping back into my groin. Twenty minutes and two jerk-off sessions later, I’m toweling off my hair, still not satisfied.
I pick my phone up off my nightstand and hover over Greyson’s number. Can I do this? I have to. Eventually, I have to. I’m just not ready. Chickening out, I get dressed and tuck my phone into my pocket, setting aside any ambition towards reconciliation. There’s plenty of time. Right now, I don’t want to open up the floodgates. I don’t want to talk about Theo or her or think about where she is right now and why no one has mentioned her. I left her in the past and right now; I need her to stay there.
The smell of metal and gunpowder permeates the expansive room, the loud pops and pings reverberating in my chest, working in tandem with my heartbeat. A gun range is as foreign a place as they come for me. A room full of deadly weapons, where at any moment a person could turn a corner and blow someone else away—it’s daunting. Chills rise on the back of my neck when crack after crack punctuates the air. This must be Grey’s punishment for catching me dry-humping his best friend.
Exiting the back inventory room where the silence is golden, I stop short. Savy is practicing with a shotgun. Her noise-canceling earmuffs engulf her head, and the glare from the fluorescent lights reflects off her protective eyewear.
Who knew all that could look sexy on a person? My eyes drift down her head, neck, and succulent chest that rises and falls with each calculated breath. Her taut stomach and shapely legs set my body buzzing.
I never fancied myself into weapons, but seeing her wield it with such finesse and experience piques my curiosity—and libido. Most of the women I’ve been with wouldn’t come within ten feet of a gun for fear of breaking a precious nail, but not Savy. She owns it. Her confidence is alluring, intoxicating.
Leaning my hands against the plexiglass, the pulsations from the discharging guns tingle my fingers. I hope she sees me, but I’m afraid of the rejection. I want to apologize for last night. She’s been avoiding me, and I can’t say I blame her. Maybe now is not the time, she’s yet again holding a deadly weapon. Which way do you want to die, Preston?
I remove myself from the wall and hesitate when another guy sidles up to her. He’s shorter than me, a little on the skinny side, with sandy blonde hair cut short. His fingers are busy swinging his keys around on a lanyard. Who the fuck is that?
Savy turns toward him, startling. Her hand flies to her mouth as she jumps a foot. Leaning her gun against a wall, she trembles, narrowing her eyes at him. Taking off her earmuffs and hanging them on a hook beside her, she marches out from her lane and through a door near me. I’m out of her sight, but I can still hear and see their exchange. I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but she doesn’t look happy to see whoever he is, and I want to be close by if she needs me.
“What are you doing here?” Savy’s voice has a sharp bite to it.
The guy lifts his shoulders, hands in his pockets. “I came to see you. You’ve been ignoring me, so I had to come up here and talk to you myself.”
Alarm bells sound in my head. If she’s ignoring him, it tells me she probably isn’t too happy to see him. I clench my fists. Whoever this guy is, he better not hang around for long. I’m not sure how professional I can be.
“I thought I was clear, Brody. We’re over. You cannot just come up to my workplace out of the blue expecting me to have a conversation with you. I’ve said all I needed to say to you. Please leave.”
“Listen, Savy baby, we should talk. It’s been too long.” He moves closer to her like he’s going to embrace her, not reading the signs she’s giving him to back off—arms crossed, brows furrowed, a scowl on her face.
I’ve had enough. Shoving off the wall, I stalk over to her and tug her to my side. She stiffens, but I hold her tight against me.
“She said leave,” my tone dark, eyes flashing with menace.
Brody looks me up and down, squinting, determination clouding his blue eyes. I hold up a hand, stopping him from opening his smarmy mouth.
“She can fight her own battles, but I really wanted the satisfaction of asking you to leave. Nicely of course. No need to embarrass us all.” I angle my head, Savy still tucked under my arm.
She twists, wiggling out of my grip, and steps forward to jab a finger into Brody’s chest. “He’s right, I can fight my own battles.” She turns her fiery gaze at me before she addresses her ex. “Brody, I don’t want you here, there’s nothing left for us. You made that clear five years ago. Please leave, this is where I work and you’re embarrassing me.”
Glancing over her shoulder, he sizes me up again while ignoring her. “Who are you, her new boy toy? Or should I say fuck boy?” he sneers.
Savy flinches, and I lose all restraint. I’m Hulk, shedding my clothes, doubling my size, and turning green. Leaning in close to Brody’s ear, I press my fingers into his puny bicep and spit out, “If I catch you here again, I will escort you to that patch of woods over there,” I gesture with my pointer to a small thicket of trees visible through the window, “and I’ll leave you for whatever creature deems you suitable enough to eat. Savy did herself a favor by leaving you. Get the fuck out.”
Shrugging my hand off him, he shakes his head, laughing as he turns to leave. “You know what, she did me a solid. I’m free to fuck anyone who isn’t as frigid as she is.”
Enraged, I move to follow him, but a small hand on my arm holds me back. “He’s not worth it. Let him go,” her voice wavers.
One look at her shaking frame and my resolve weakens. I gather her into my arms, kissing her temple. What a piece of shit.
“You want to get outta here?”
She untangles herself from my arms, her long hair fanning out behind her as she stares daggers at me. “Why did you do that? I could have handled it, Preston.”
Holding up my hands in surrender, I say, “I know. You’re the most capable woman I kn—”
She cuts me off, her words slicing through the already tense air. “Here’s what I don’t get. You come in here acting like my knight in shining armor, but just last night, you were an asshole to me. And now, you’re defending me as if I’m some prize or a damsel in distress. I’ve been on my own for years. I’ve had my fair share of dealing with less-than-ideal men, but I’ve always been able to take care of myself.”
I blink, backing up to give her space. This isn’t exactly how I expected things to go. Maybe I went too far with Brody, but damnit, he was fucking with my girl. My girl? What did that even mean? The way my heart pounds in my chest and it having nothing to do with the patrons firing off guns behind me gives me my answer. I’m protective of her, even if messes with my judgment.
“Savy, I’m not sorry I said those things to him, he’s a douche, and he wasn’t listening to you.” I sigh and reach out for her, meeting only air. “But I am sorry for stepping in for you and for what I said to you last night.” Raking my hands through my hair, I stare out a window before coming back to her face. “It was me being a coward, for feeling things I don’t think I should feel toward you. I was trying to be the better person.”
“You sure have a funny way of showing it. Actually, it’s a terrible way,” she grumbles, uncrossing her arms.
“I know, I’m an idiot. I really am sorry—it was a dick move.” It was. She deserves better than that. I know I’m not any better with the mixed signals I’m giving her, but I can’t even tell you what’s happening to me. It’s been so long since I’ve been this drawn to a woman and I actually want her to have a good impression of me. I’m also doing a shitty job in that department.
Stepping forward, I grab her hand and she lets me take it. Rubbing her knuckles, I say, “You’re a seriously badass woman, it’s one thing I like about you. You can handle a bow and arrow better than anyone I know and look sexy as hell doing it.”
She eyes me, gauging my sincerity before squeezing my hand. “Thank you, I appreciate that. I was hoping I wouldn’t have
to use my skills on you too.”
I know where my mind is going with that. It ends up in the gutter when I’m around her.
“I won’t object to you using your skills on me, Montana.” Chuckling, I pull her close for a hug, enjoying her small hand on my chest. “You have time for a lunch break? How about we go cash in those diner coupons we won. I’m starving.”
She snaps her fingers, a lightness back in her eyes. “Ah, I forgot about those coupons. Yes, let’s go. I owe you anyway for what you just did. As much as I know I can handle Brody, it was kind of hot seeing you go all Conan the Barbarian on him.” She blushes, averting her eyes.
“Was that a compliment? For the record, you bring out the caveman in me,” I smirk.
“What were you doing here, anyway? Stalking me?” She quirks up an eyebrow and bites her lip.
I catch myself staring at them and force myself to meet her eyes. “Greyson had me run an errand, wanted me to check on the ammunition inventory over here. Just ran into you, that’s all.”
“Hmm. Ok. Whatever you say,” she says with a grin. “I have to get my stuff and turn my gun in. Meet me out front in five. I’ll drive since I know you don’t have a car. How you managed city life without one boggles me.”
“It’s called town cars and subways. However, the subway makes me cringe,” I joke backing up.
“It’s called being lazy,” she retorts with a huff.
“No, it’s sophisticated, energy efficient—” I hold up my fingers to count off the reasons, but she cuts me off.
“I’m kidding, Preston. See you in a few.” She rolls her eyes and sashays away from me, taking with her my willpower not to stare at her ass. Fuck me. Now I’m certain—along with my dick—how much trouble I’m in with this woman.
10
SAVANNAH
How can one man infuriate me and turn me on at the same time? Preston’s show of dominance went against my feminist ideals. However, him going to bat for me also turns my insides to goo.
Too wrapped up in my head, I’m not paying attention and barrel right into a hard chest. “Oof, I’m sorry.”
Pulling my face back and up, I realize it’s Isaac. And I really have to look up. The man is like six- foot- five and full of muscles. He’s every girl’s lumberjack wet dream with his chocolate eyes and wild, dark wavy hair.
Isaac Snow is a handsome guy, if not too handsome for a drifter. I believe he’s been around this area for longer than SoS has been here. Greyson said he just showed up the first week before he opened the facility and there stood Isaac, asking for a job. After seeing his skills as a survivalist and with a rifle, plus glowing recommendations from his previous employer at a gun shop, Grey hired him. I know little about him except that he’s quiet, but sweet, and seems to inadvertently charm the pants off any client of the female variety. With a head full of thick hair that hits at his shoulders and a natural wave that girls would kill for, he’s a walking hair advertisement—except he doesn’t use any products.
Lucky son of a gun. I wonder if he can give me a good conditioner recommendation though … he has to use that to get those locks so luscious.
His soft brown eyes are wary and speak of untold stories. Sticking to himself, he’s by far the biggest enigma here, and bless anyone that can get this man to open up and let loose.
“Whoa, Savy, you ok?” He grabs my arm to steady me. Man, does he have nice forearms. I seriously need my head checked or get some new batteries for my, uh, vibratory device, because my appetite is clearly in overdrive.
“I’m good, thanks. Sorry for running into you. I’m about to head out. Can you take this? I noticed it sticking when I would discharge so you may have to check it out.” Handing him the rifle, he just nods and goes back to his storeroom.
I pick up my things, weaving past people to the lobby. Preston’s leaning against a table, legs crossed, holding two coffees, and looking every bit the New Yorker with his long wool trench coat and shiny shoes. The sight of the coffees disarms me. I’m immediately transported back to when I found out Brody cheated on me.
Two coffees, our favorite café, and a lipstick stain that wasn’t mine. I shake loose that memory. I don’t want today to be overpowered by a man that once owned and then splintered my heart.
Preston catches me ogling him as he hands me a coffee and opens the door for me, a gust of wind ruffling his hair, sending it up into spikes. “What?”
I feign the best smile I can. “Nothing, just thinking about how you still look like a hotshot New York financier and not yet a cowboy.”
He grins right back. “You trying to change me, Montana?”
“Naw, just trying to get you comfortable being here.”
“I will be once you get me into a corner booth at Mae’s. I have yet to eat this pie you all have been harping on about.”
He tags after me out to the parking lot and, pausing in front of my car, I dig around in my purse for my keys. I unlock the passenger side and walk around to the driver’s side to let myself in, but then stop. Preston is still as a statue, just staring, shellshocked. His mouth hangs open slightly, and his eyes look mystified. He points to my car, a 1965 Ford Mustang Fastback in jet black. “This is your car?”
I put my hands on my hips and reply smugly, “Yep, sure is. Can’t believe a woman would own a car such as this?”
“No,” he stutters. “What I really mean is, why are you driving a classic car like this in the wet weather?” He walks around, admiring the shiny exterior, running his hand down the sides, clearly enjoying the cold steel with enough horsepower to drive anyone wild.
“She has snow tires on, don’t worry. Come on, get in. I’ll show you how she rides.”
We climb in, setting our hot coffees in the cup holders, and I’m laughing as Preston smooths his hands down the seats and gazes reverently at all the buttons and gadgets on the dash.
“Where did you get this beauty?”
The ignition turns over and the familiar rumble under my seat comforts me. I quickly push the button for heat, rubbing my hands back and forth to warm them up because even though it’s spring, the weather is still pretty chilly.
“It was my mom’s. My dad kept it for me until I could drive and when I proved I was a decent driver, he let me take it over. Not to worry, pretty boy, I put a cover on it when the weather gets nasty. I’ve also been driving these roads for years, so I’m a pro even in crappy weather. Buckle up, cowboy, I like to go fast.”
I’m not kidding either. I release the clutch, shift gears, and tear through the parking lot, swerving expertly around the corner. Excitement lights his eyes up like Christmas morning and I feel the rush of putting it there.
We cruise for a bit, listening to the growl of the exhaust. I like that he’s impressed by my car. It certainly impressed my dad. Tapping my fingers on the wheel, I sneak a peek at Preston. His eyes are roaming the interior, appreciation in his smile.
“My mom used to roll up in this thing outside my dad’s house to pick him up for dates when they were young.”
“That didn’t bother your dad?” he speaks to the dash as he messes with the knobs.
“No, I think he enjoyed being chauffeured around, and he loved her powerful personality. Would it bother you?” I downshift, feeling the gears tumble under my feet.
My focus is on the road, but I can feel the pressure of his eyes on me.
“I admire a woman that knows what she wants and goes for it. It’s a badass car, I hope she let him drive it at least once.”
In my peripheral vision, I watch him tap his finger to his lips before continuing, “Strong women are incredibly sexy, but sometimes a man wants to be in charge—of specific things in specific places.” He slides his eyes over to me, and I swing my head to the front window. Biting my bottom lip, I try to concentrate on the road, but the idea of Preston taking charge over me sends goosebumps all over my body.
Reaching over and using his thumb, he rolls my lip out from under my teeth. “Don’t bite those
pretty lips, Montana. I’m having enough trouble controlling my thoughts as it is. Let’s not add those to the mix.”
That makes two of us.
Inhaling sharply, I take the turn into Mae’s, a little too close and almost hit the curb. Rolling my eyes, Preston’s low laugh fills the space in the compact car.
When we arrive, I cut the engine, trying to regulate my heart. Preston doesn’t even bother hiding his appreciation for my set of wheels when he says, “I’m in love. With your car, that is.”
I chuckle, releasing my seatbelt. “Anytime you want a ride, I’d be happy to give you one.”
A wolfish grin spreads across his handsome face at the suggestiveness of my comment, and I cup my cheeks. I need to get out of this tiny car.
“You know what I mean!” I smack him playfully in the arm. “Let’s go get some food.”
Preston opens the diner door for me, and I stoop under his brick house frame to get in. He’s so tall, I come up to just slightly over his chest, near his collarbone. His hand trails down to the small of my back as Bree, the hostess, walks us back to a corner booth, setting down wrapped silverware and menus. Every long finger splaying out across my spine is a brand—the heat from his hand radiating everywhere.
“Your server will be with you shortly.” She sends an appreciative look over to Preston, but he’s too busy looking around to notice. My blood pressure climbs. I can’t believe it, but I think I’m jealous. He’s gorgeous, and the twinkle in those blue eyes draws me in. And don’t get me started on that boyish grin accentuated by his sexy dimple. He could make a girl drop her panties by just smiling. I don’t want to share. Bree’s pretty, but she’s also known for trying to compromise any good-looking male that graces the diner.
“This place looks cozy,” he comments as he takes in the posters covering the walls and the soft music playing from the jukebox speakers.
“You really think so, or are you messing with me to be nice?” I play it coy, but I’m curious what he thinks about Montana now that he’s spent some time here.