by Maisey Yates
God knew what he might be tempted to fantasize about.
Last night had been tough enough, but he’d managed. Today it had all grown, the images of her body—her lithe body—all glistening in the water plaguing him. And he was pretty sure his brain was adding details.
And yeah, now he was out without a DD, but Lindy would come and get him. Hell, Lindy would probably take him in for the night, and help him avoid the winery altogether.
He didn’t trust himself. Not now. Not while he was so clearly crazy.
He walked slowly across the distressed wooden floor, picking through the crowded place. It was a Friday night, and it was packed all to hell. Laz, the owner of Gold Valley Saloon, was behind the bar mixing drinks. But, Dane didn’t require his skill. He just required whiskey straight out of a bottle.
“Hey,” Dane said, flattening his hands on the distressed countertop. “I need a double.”
“Is that all?” Laz asked, looking at him a little bit too keenly.
“To start with.”
He laughed and shook his head, finishing up the drink he was shaking and sliding it across the bar to a man whose hands were as smooth as the suit jacket he was wearing.
“Nothing fruity in mine,” Dane said under his breath.
“Don’t go chasing off my customers by being a dick,” Laz said.
“I would never do that,” Dane said.
“Yeah,” Laz replied. “You would.”
He turned and acquired a bottle of whiskey, pouring a healthy measure into a tumbler for Dane. “Cheers,” Dane said, lifting it to his lips.
Laz shook his head and went to take the next order. And Dane set about drinking.
“Drinking alone, Parker?”
Dane turned and saw Gabe Dalton standing there leaning against the counter. “I was,” he responded.
“Looking for a partner?”
“No,” Dane responded.
A smile hitched up Gabe’s lips and he took a seat at the vacant bar stool next to him. “Well, consider me drinking adjacent.”
Dane snorted. “Excellent.”
“How’s the leg?” Gabe asked.
“Great,” Dane replied. “Spent the day training for a half marathon.” He drained the rest of the glass. “Laz,” he said. “More for me, and some for this asshole.”
“Careful,” Gabe said. “That feels perilously close to you drinking with me.”
“Nope,” Dane replied. “You going to ride this season?”
“Thinking about it.”
“Only thinking about it?”
Gabe lifted a shoulder. “Things are picking up out of the ranch. I have a few new endeavors happening there. Also, a sister.”
“Yeah,” Dane said. “That’s what I heard.” It had been a minor scandal in the community when Hank Dalton’s adult daughter had suddenly appeared.
“All things considered it might not be a great year to spend half of it traveling.”
Dane shook his head. “I would. In a heartbeat.”
Especially right now. He needed to...well, get the hell out of Dodge, quite frankly.
“It’s things like what happened to you that make me think it might be time to be done,” he said casually.
Gabe Dalton rode saddle bronc. So while their paths crossed, given that they often competed at the same events, they didn’t totally move in the same crowd.
“Well, now,” Dane said. “In fairness, if you get stomped by your animal, it doesn’t have horns and it weighs a hell of a lot less.”
“Still,” Gabe said. “It just has to hit you in the right place.”
“True enough.”
“My brothers are all doing other things. Not particularly interested in helping me around the ranch. Smoke jumpers.”
Dane had heard that. But he figured he’d let Gabe talk. Since the asshole was clearly intent on talking. “Trading in one dumbass endeavor for another?”
“Basically.”
“I heard you hired Jamie Dodge for something over at the ranch.”
Gabe chuckled. Laz brought their drinks over at that moment, and Gabe lifted the tumbler to his lips. “Was Wyatt blistering your ears with threats of skinning me?”
“No,” Dane said. “My sister mentioned it.”
“Wyatt was none too happy with the situation.” Gabe scanned the room behind them, resting his elbow on the wall, his gaze sharp. Pointed. Looking for a woman, if Dane had to guess. Not a particular woman. Just a woman. Even if he wasn’t particularly, it was habit. Lots of months spent on the road, nights spent in bars, where a man could meet a buckle bunny any night of the week who might make that motel bed seem less lonely. Dane could remember that all too well, though it was distant enough now it felt like someone else’s life.
He missed it. If he were still living it there was no way he’d be dealing with the Beatrix situation now.
Gabe continued. “Wyatt doesn’t trust me.”
“Should he?”
Gabe lifted a brow and took another drink. “He doesn’t have to have any association with me. Whether or not he should trust me seems immaterial.”
“It’s a sister thing,” Dane said slowly.
“I have one of those,” Gabe said.
“You’ve had one for a couple of months. It’s not quite the same.” That turned his thoughts back to Bea. She was basically a sister. Or she should be. She was certainly a sister as far as Lindy was concerned, and Lindy would not hesitate to lay waste to Dane’s entire being should he behave inappropriately toward her.
“I promise I don’t have any grand plans to debauch Jamie Dodge. I want her help.”
“Still. Just thought you’d want to know. All the Dodge brothers would kill you. And I would help.”
“You’re not much of a threat to me right now,” Gabe said, looking him up and down. Dane scowled and drained his tumbler again.
“Are you drinking to dull the pain or drinking to forget a woman?”
“The pain,” Dane bit out. “I’ve forgotten women.” Damn he wished that were true. He remembered Bea. He remembered Bea all too well.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Dane treated Gabe to a flat look, deeply regretful that he had opened his mouth about this particular topic. But things seemed fuzzy around the edges and he had lost his hold on why exactly he should regret saying something like this.
“I’ve been convalescing,” he said.
Gabe nearly choked. “You’ve been down-and-out for about eight months.”
“I’m aware.”
Gabe took a drink. “That sounds like hell.”
“Least hell is hot. This is nothing.”
He tapped the top of his glass and Laz refilled.
“Well, you’re in a bar,” Gabe said. “I expect you could find a hookup here.”
“If that’s an offer, Gabe, it’s awfully sweet, but I’m pretty firmly team tits.”
Gabe laughed. “Not an offer.”
Dane looked around the bar, not just to see what Gabe might be seeing, like he had done earlier. But really looked. For himself. There were a lot of women in there he didn’t recognize, which was frankly about where his standards were at. But none of them...caught him. None of them held him.
None of them had a wild riot of curls and wide, innocent eyes.
He doubted any of them would crawl around in the grass to have a conversation with a robin. And he didn’t know why in the hell that should matter to him.
Not that he should be thinking of her while he was thinking about sex.
Putting that word into his brain and mixing it with thoughts of Bea was like the impact of a moving train. Particularly when mixed with alcohol, which lowered his ability to stop all those roaring images.
How would she look up at him as he were to touch her face
? If he were to bend down and kiss her mouth?
Hell no.
He was supposed to come out and drink and forget about all that. There were women here. There was no reason why he couldn’t get something going with a woman here. No reason in hell.
This was some kind of bullshit.
“I don’t think it’s happening tonight,” Dane said, resolutely turning away, putting his focus on the back of the bar. He just wouldn’t think about sex at all.
Which was, of course, now all he could think about.
The rest of the night was a blur, and he could barely remember calling Lindy and slurring out that he needed to get picked up. Sometime around when he and Gabe Dalton had taken control of the jukebox and asked the patrons of the bar to save a horse and ride a cowboy.
And he only barely registered his sister’s judgmental comments after she loaded him into the truck.
And then later when she deposited him on the bed in the guest room.
When he woke up the next morning he had a splitting headache, and the tiny sliver of light that was filtering through the curtain felt as deliberate as it did evil.
When the door to the bedroom flung open, he knew that sliver of sunlight had in fact been deliberate. His sister was a damned witch.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she said. “Wyatt is making bacon.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Dane said, covering up his head and trying to escape the pounding sensation in his head. Trying to get an accurate sense for what the hell time and place it was.
Then everything came flooding back to him with alarming clarity. Drinking with Gabe Dalton. Making an ass of himself at the bar. And Bea.
“You partied pretty hard last night.”
“And you didn’t. Which is why you’re up being obnoxious this morning.”
“I’m an old married lady,” she said cheerfully, crossing the room and flinging the curtains open.
Dane cursed a blue streak, his own voice joining in with the light to add to the pounding in his head.
“You’re kind of a pansy, Parker,” Lindy said. “Since when can’t you handle a night out drinking?”
“Since it’s been eight months since I’ve done anything?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t been drinking alone in my house.”
“I have. But not quite to that degree.”
“So what were you doing out with Gabe Dalton?”
“I wasn’t with him. I happened to run into him.” He dragged a hand over his face. “I need coffee. I can’t be talking to you like this.”
“How weird. I can talk to you like this just fine.”
“Get out,” Dane said.”
Lindy hummed cheerfully and took her time meander-ing out of the room. Then she closed the door firmly behind her, and Dane sat up, going into the bathroom and splashing his face with water before heading to the kitchen, where his brother-in-law was busily cooking bacon.
Lindy handed him a cup of coffee, at least being a little bit nice beneath all of her obnoxiousness now.
“You want to talk about it?” she asked, settling against the table and pressing her fingertips against the rim of her mug, peering over it with wide blue eyes.
“No.”
“Come on, Dane. It’ll be like old times. When you used to get in trouble in high school, and I used to find you hungover. And then we would talk.”
“I don’t think that ever happened.”
Lindy looked at him with full seriousness. “You were often hungover in high school.”
“But we didn’t talk,” Dane said.
“Yes, we did. But mostly about how we were going to hide your hangover from mom. Who didn’t really want to put up with yours since she had one of her own.”
He shook his head. “How did we turn out so normal?”
Wyatt made a wheezing sound that he turned into a deliberate cough as he labored over the bacon. Both Dane and Lindy shot him a look.
“Anyway. I thought you were doing better.”
“I am,” Dane said. “I went out drinking. I haven’t done that in forever. Not since the accident. Progress.”
“Progress to coping with things in an unhealthy way?”
“I’m fine.”
She had no idea what he had gone out drinking to avoid. If she thought it was all about his injury and his career... Well, he wished it were.
“Have you talked to Mom at all lately?” Well damn. Suddenly he had a feeling she wasn’t asking about his injuries. “I know that... She tried after the accident. Has she... Has she been around much since?”
“I’ve seen her three times,” Dane said.
“Does that bother you?”
Dane laughed. “Hell no. Three times is honestly pretty impressive for her.”
“Have you ever... Have you ever heard from Dad?”
Rage streaked through Dane’s gut. Hot and fierce, and he couldn’t even quite say why it was so immediate. He never thought about that old bastard. Not ever. That he could have such an extreme, intense response to just the mention of him was...not really a pleasant revelation.
But then...wasn’t that the best lie he could tell himself? That he never thought of him. That he never wondered if the old man watched him on TV. That his career had nothing at all to do with those parting words.
Maybe I’ll see you on TV.
But I love you.
Dane’s I love you hadn’t gotten a response. TV was the last word.
He’d never heard from him. Not ever. He’d rode and rode, won championships, made a name for himself. Soaked up all the glory from strangers and told himself that was all he ever wanted.
That it didn’t matter if his dad ever saw. If he ever knew.
If his dad watched...it meant he knew he was injured. And even then, nothing.
“No,” Dane said. “Why would I have?”
“Because you got injured. And anyone who watches rodeo knows that. You know Dad always did.”
“He probably stopped once I started doing it. In the grand tradition of never watching anything one of his kids did.”
Lindy’s lips twisted upward in wry humor. “I mean, that is a possibility.”
“I don’t care about Dad,” Dane said. “Not at all.”
“Sure,” Lindy said. “Me neither.”
That sweet, calm tone in her voice irritated him. Maybe because he knew she didn’t really believe him. And she was trying to be gentle and nice because she was afraid...well, she seemed to be afraid that he wasn’t coping.
But why would he care about their dad? He hadn’t seen the bastard since he was thirteen years old. Why would any of it matter?
“You’re early for work today,” Wyatt pointed out.
“You’re an asshole today.”
“I’m an asshole every day,” Wyatt said.
“You two are a match made in heaven,” Dane said.
“That we are,” Wyatt agreed. “You up to working?”
Yes, he was. He was up to staying the hell away from the winery. The hell away from Bea. The hell away from all of that weirdness that he really didn’t want to cope with.
“Yes. I beg you. Give me something to do. I shouldn’t be left to my own devices. Clearly.”
“Now there’s something we can agree on,” Lindy said.
“Well, then you might have some fun using the paint stripper today.”
“Power tools I am definitely good with.”
“I’ll meet you outside,” Wyatt said, and Dane had the distinct impression he was being set up by his brother-in-law, who left the kitchen.
The determined set of Lindy’s face when he turned toward her confirmed it. “Real talk, Parker,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“I thought I’d see if I could have some of my life back. You know. Drin
k. Meet a woman.” Any woman but the one back on the winery property.
“Dane,” Lindy said. “You can’t jump back into life before your body is ready to.”
“My body is fine on that score, Lindy.”
She stuck her tongue out and made a gagging sound. “Ew. I don’t care about that. I didn’t mean that specifically. I just meant you can’t expect to just get back on the...bull, in this instance.”
“I haven’t done anything stupid.” Not too stupid, anyway. He’d fallen down working on the winery once, but he hadn’t touched Bea in spite of the fact that she currently made his blood hot. So he figured that balanced out.
“But you’re tempted to,” Lindy said softly.
He gritted his teeth. “Yeah, well, I’m tempted to do a lot of things.”
“You do most of them.”
He laughed, hollow and hard. “Not these days.”
She had no idea. No idea at all.
“I guess that’s growing up.”
“No, that’s being forced into solitude for eight months. I will be back. But it won’t be for him. It’ll be for me. Because this life... It doesn’t work for me.”
“What? Living at the winery, working with your brother-in-law? Is it that bad, Dane? We have everything we need. It’s nothing like when we were kids.”
He gritted his teeth. “It’s not mine.”
“What do you mean it isn’t yours?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t build it.”
“Then I suppose the winery isn’t mine.”
“Oh, you know that isn’t true,” Dane said. “It might have originally been owned by the Leighton family, but they didn’t do half with it what you did. You did build it. You built it up and made it better. That would be like me saying just because I didn’t start the rodeo I didn’t build my career.”
Lindy laughed. “Well, not just like that. But I can appreciate where you’re coming from. I guess.”
“Are you going to let Bea start that sanctuary?” he asked.
“What?” She blinked. “That’s quite the subject change.”
He shook his head. “It’s not. It’s the thing she wants to build, Lindy. It’s her dream. It matters to her.”
“You know I’m going to relent and let her do it.”