No. Sweet, juicy…hot, it was all her.
All Shayla Ryan.
Why did he have to feel this rare chemistry with the likes of her? The assistant who worked for his cousin’s fiancée in Brandi’s interior design company. A control freak who liked having things her way. Single mother of cute little Amelia, the twenty-one month old who readily jumped into his arms whenever they met, unlike her spitting image momma. Shayla was drop-dead gorgeous with curves to die for, silky red waves that brushed her mouth-watering chest, big blue eyes that could drop a man faster than her lethal elbow, and a sarcastic mouth to match.
A delectable mouth. A mouth that fueled his fantasies at night.
Still, she wasn’t his type. Not that he ever really had one. No. Race, height, weight, none of that mattered. Even age didn’t matter. Younger or older than him, Kevin didn’t care as long as they were past the legal drinking age. He just plum loved women. Loved to make them happy. If an attraction existed and they were interested, then he was on board for some fun, whether it be sex or just hanging out. Because that was all it was for him. Fun. He wasn’t looking for more, and made damn sure the woman knew that before moving forward.
Shayla wasn’t about having fun, though. She had a baby. Responsibilities. Definitely not his type. He had no business sniffing around the beauty. So why his gaze settled on her swaying badonk-a-donk, and followed the seam in her tight jeans as it curved around her sweet ass…he had no idea. But he was hot. And hard. And pissed off at himself for his weakness where the redhead was concerned.
“Yeah, well, maybe we did burn up the place, but it’s not going to happen again,” he stated with a shake of his head. It wasn’t. There were plenty of other badonk-a-donks that just wanted some fun.
A deep bark of laughter—in stereo—burst around him.
“You are so wrong, my friend,” Cole said when he sobered, before tipping a pitcher to fill his mug. “That’s how it starts.”
“How what starts? An ulcer?” Because he certainly didn’t need one of those.
“No.” Connor snickered. “Getting sucked into the girl vortex.”
A smile tugged Kevin’s lips. “I like a girl’s vortex very much.”
“Not that, you horndog.” His friend bumped his shoulder, nearly knocking him out of the booth. “The girl vortex. Her life. Her persona. ”
Wow. His brow rose as he stared at the giant. He had no idea Connor could pronounce big-boy words, let alone know the meaning. “Good for you, Moose. Vortex and persona. Two adult words in one breath. I’m so proud.”
“It’s not gonna work, pretty boy.” Dimples glared. “You aren’t gonna change the subject by picking a fight.”
Damn, it was worth a try. Not that he wanted to fight the ogre, but it was better than talking about Shayla and that hot kiss.
“We’re just trying to help you out, buddy,” Cole said, leaning forward, pointing at himself then the other two guys. “Since the three of us were in denial a good sixty percent of the time in the beginning…”
“A hundred percent for me,” Kade interrupted.
Connor raised a hand and snickered. “Hell, a hundred and fifty percent for me.”
“That’s because you’re thick,” Kevin told the grinning cattle rancher. “Kerri was sweet on you from the start, and you dropped the ball big time, big guy.”
“Exactly why we’re having this talk now, Mr. Mensa.”
“Yeah, Kevin,” Cole continued. “If any of us has a chance to get it right from the get go, it’s you. You’re the smartest, although I fear it’s book smarts and not common sense smarts. At least not where women are concerned.”
Seriously? He threw his head back and laughed. He’d been popular with the opposite sex since he was a teenager. No bragging. Just the truth.
“You’re wrong, bossman,” he felt obligated to protest, once he sobered. After all, he had a reputation to uphold. “I know more about women than the three of you put together.”
The three of them laughed together. Then laughed some more.
It wasn’t that funny.
“Excuse me, Kevin,” a feminine voice interrupted. “Would you like to dance?”
Turning his head to view the owner of the sweet voice with even sweeter timing, he was pleasantly surprised to see the young woman he’d escorted to a sorority dinner earlier that year. Painfully shy and reserved, Nadine had needed a date for some spring shindig, and much to her dismay, her brother, a rodeo buddy of his, had asked him to escort her, no sex involved. Which was fine by Kevin. The sweetheart had felt more like a kid sister.
He watched as color flooded her cheeks, deepening the amber of her eyes, but she held his gaze and didn’t look away. That was new. And good. The young woman was showing a confidence she’d lack in May.
“It would be my pleasure, Nadine,” he replied, grasping her hand as he rose to his feet. He was more than ready to leave his chuckling knuckleheaded friends.
Leading her to the dance floor, he noted she’d blossomed quite a bit over the past half a year, trading in her sweats for designer jeans and a frilly blouse. Her brown hair was cut and styled, brushing her shoulders instead of pulled back with a scrunch thing on top of her head. He was happy to see the transformation and proud of her effort to come out of her shell.
“You look amazing.”
Her blush deepened with her smile. “Thank you.”
As they danced to an easy Texas two-step, he couldn’t help but wonder what had caused the change, and why she was at the Texas Pub. “So, how’ve you been, darlin’?”
He knew she was a marketing major at Texas A&M, and smart as a whip. At the spring party, they’d danced a little, and he joked around until he’d gotten her to smile and loosen up enough to talk about her major. That’s when he’d discovered they shared a love for puzzles of any kind. And video games. They’d played an RPG—roll playing game—for hours. It had been refreshing to be challenged. Unlike when he played against the MCalls. At least Kade could whip his ass in first person shooter games, although, he hadn’t approached his cousin for a duel since his return from deployment. His gut had told him it wasn’t a good idea.
“I’ve been good. Real good,” Nadine replied. “I graduated this past semester and am starting a new job with McCall Enterprises this Monday.”
He reeled back and grinned. “That’s fantastic. Did you give Human Resources my name?”
She shook her head, a genuine smile curving her lips. “No. I wanted to get the job on my own. And I did.” Pride and accomplishment sparkled in her eyes.
“Good for you,” he said, continuing to lead the sweet girl around the floor, the smell of fresh pine a fragrant treat whenever they passed the decorated tree. “We’re lucky to have you.”
“Thanks, and thanks for believing in me and treating me like I wasn’t invisible.”
His heart twisted. Had people actually done that to her? Cripes. Sometimes society sucked. “You’re more than welcome, darlin’, but I didn’t do anything but tell you what you already knew. You’re beautiful, smart and funny, and I had a great time. Someday, some guy will be lucky to call you his own.”
Pink returned to her cheeks and deepened with her shy smile. “He already has. I mean…I met a guy. We’ve been dating a few months, now.” She motioned with her head toward a young cowboy semi-stewing near the bar.
Kevin brought them to a halt just as the music stopped. “Well good for you, but you probably shouldn’t have asked me to dance.” Lord knew he’d seen his share of jealous men over the years. That was the last thing he needed tonight.
She laughed. “It’s all right. He knows about you.”
Okay. He wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. Not exactly the kind of threesome he was into. In fact, since the Nakamoras, he wasn’t into multiple partners anymore. They’d cured him. Zapped him. Nearly killed him. Truth be told, age was catching up. He discovered it was much better to expend his energy on one lover. More rewarding for all concerned when he t
ook his time and explored all his lover’s merits.
“Thanks for believing in me, Kevin Dalton.” The pretty marketing major lifted up on tip-toe and kissed his cheek. “I just wanted you to know girls like me sure could use a guy like you to make us realize that no matter what assets we posses, and don’t posses, we all matter.”
With that, she turned and sauntered to her cowboy who was now beaming with an ear-to-ear sappy grin. A smile pulled at Kevin’s lips as a sense of pride and satisfaction puffed out his chest. Sweet kid. It was great to see her recognize she—
“Guess you can’t win them all, cowboy.”
His groin twitched. The fellas running for cover, no doubt.
Though he recognized that sexy voice, he’d already known the redhead was near before she even opened her delicious mouth. Every hair on his body had stood up and a prickling awareness spread down his spine as he stood talking to Nadine. He just chose to ignore it. Ignore her. Although, now that she’d spoken, he couldn’t be rude. His momma had raised him better.
“Guess not,” he said, turning to face the beautiful pain-in-his-ass. He didn’t owe Shayla an explanation and wasn’t about to give her one. “I’m surprised to see you down here kicking up your heels.”
He knew mother and daughter resided with her sister in the apartment above the Texas Pub. She’d been there for months, but he’d rarely seen the woman downstairs, let alone dancing and, heaven forbid, having…fun.
She shrugged. “Not that it’s any of your business, Romeo, but my sister is watching Amelia,” she replied, chin out, shoulders back, scowl pinching the pleasantness from her face. “Caitlin insisted I join Brandi and Jordan and take some time for myself.”
Her sister was a doll. Too bad it didn’t run in the family.
“Well, good for you. I have to say you move quite graceful and fluent despite the pole up your…well, you know.” He held the graphic words inside, but winked for effect.
A smirk tugged her pretty mouth. “Yeah, I know all right. And I know you ought to know all about…poling.”
Damn. The woman was mean. That remark had him resisting the urge to cover his favorite body part with both hands. The fellas literally twitched in fear.
What in the world happened to make the woman so damn ornery?
Granted, she’d lost her fiancé in the war last year, but that should make her sad, not physically and verbally abusive. Although, he seemed to be the only one on that end of the stick.
His gaze traveled down to the dragonfly on her boots and took a slow journey back up, lingering over the delectable, rounded flesh exposed by the V-neck of her navy T-shirt. Freckles. His blood heated. Cute. Just how many did she have? The urge to bend down and kiss each one was strong. And stupid. But, one thing was very obvious. Shayla may not like him, but her body sure as hell did. His wasn’t the only one springing to life.
The urge to suck her pert nipples into his mouth hit him hard. He hadn’t expected such a fierce tightening in his body. Still, that didn’t stop him from carrying out his plan to teach the mean-mouthed woman a lesson.
He stepped closer, and hid a smile when she backed up into an empty table. Not so tough now. He followed, caging her with his body, enjoying the rise and fall of her chest as her soft curves brushed into him. The way her fiery gaze dropped to his mouth and she licked her lips. Yeah, he liked that. He liked that a lot.
But this wasn’t about him. It was about putting the spitfire in her place.
What the hell was she thinking? It’s official, you’ve lost your mind, Shayla Ryan. Why did she have to go and poke the tiger? Now he was in her face, in her space, all gorgeous six feet plus of male perfection with attitude. Exactly her type, and exactly what she did not need. But, oh yeah, she wanted. Oh boy, did she want the black-haired, blue-eyed cowboy with the five o’clock shadow covering his strong jaw. She wanted him bad.
And that ticked her off.
Instead of jamming her hands deep in her pockets, she wanted to run them up his tempting torso, over those incredible shoulders and into the hair curling slightly at the nape of his neck. But since that was a want and not a need, she just shoved them deeper into her jeans and grit her teeth when he reached out to twist a strand of her hair around his finger.
“True,” he said, leaning close. “I do know about poling.”
Ah, mercy, that man smelled great. Like a fresh rain in the woods, and male, very male. Even better than the decorated pine tree in the corner. But what he was selling, she wasn’t buying. Been there, done that, wore a hole in the T-shirt. She no longer traveled that road. Amelia, her baby girl was her priority. No room in her life for a Casanova. No matter how damn tempting.
“You’d better move it or lose it, cowboy,” she said, voice a little too breathy for him to take her threat serious.
And of course he didn’t. He just grinned and moved closer.
Great, now the girls were perking up, happy with his nearness, even poking him periodically as her breathing increased. Damn them.
“Well now, here’s the thing.”
He tugged her hair until her gaze met his beautiful one. And his gaze was beautiful, with bright blue eyes framed by lashes so dark and thick he looked like a pirate.
“You’re right, I do know all about…poling,” he admitted in a low, sexy drawl, releasing her hair to draw a line down her jaw to her mouth.
What was he doing? They were in public. People were watching. Oh, look at that. Apparently, she didn’t care. She swayed closer. This was bad. She needed to stop him. Her whole body was trembling and tingling with awareness, especially her good parts. But if she removed her hands from her pockets, there was a great chance she would be yanking the tempting cowboy close and not pushing him away. And using her knee was out of the question. She was actually ashamed of what she’d done with her elbow when they’d first met. Although, no way in hell would she admit it.
“Trust me, darlin’,” he continued, leaning down so close they shared a breath…or would’ve if she could remember how to breathe. “I guarantee when I move it, you’ll lose it.”
She nearly did.
Right there.
Lord have mercy. He had her wound so tight with barely a touch her quivering southern region was wet and ready to blow. Why was she so easy when it came to this cowboy? It was annoying as hell. If he made one more move, she was done.
With a knowing gleam in his mesmerizing eyes, he released her and stepped back. “It’s a shame, really.”
“W-what is?”
“That you’re not my type.”
With that jab, he twisted around and strode away, but not before she noted he saw her reach for the table to steady her swaying body, and he grinned.
He did not just do that…
Shayla knew she should let him go. Let the slick cowboy walk away all smug and arrogant. Keep to her rule where Kevin Dalton was concerned: avoid at all costs. But she always had a problem with smug, and hated arrogant. She could no more let the self-satisfying jerk get away with his comment than she could dance for the New York Ballet. Oh, she wanted to. Badly. But a flaw prevented her from doing either. An injury had killed her promising dance career, and her genetic code wouldn’t allow the conceited cowboy to get away with his remark. Especially since it was a blatant lie.
Twisting on her Justins’, she marched straight to the Casanova, who was grinning from ear-to-perfect-damn-ear as he slid into the open-ended booth where the sheriff and the McCall brothers lounged.
Testosterone heaven.
Those men had it in spades. Her friends, Jordan and Kerri, were married to two of the handsome guys, and her boss, and friend, Brandi, was engaged to the gorgeous sheriff. Lucky women. How three such honorable and respected men of Harland County could socialize with a womanizing scoundrel like Kevin made absolutely no sense.
Well, except for the sheriff. The guys were cousins. Poor Kade, he had no choice. But the McCalls? No accounting for taste. She gave a mental shrug as she came to a halt at th
e Casanova’s side of the table.
“Look, darlin’.” Dalton held up a hand as he smiled sheepishly at her. “Surely I couldn’t have made myself clearer?”
Clearer? Yeah, she was going to make things clear.
Holding onto her tongue because they had a full audience, complete with Jordan and Brandi who had joined their men. She cocked her head and stared down at the arrogant hunk. “Clearer on what?”
“You’re just not my type,” he repeated with a shrug of his broad shoulders and an apologetic expression on his damn face.
Several indrawn breaths mixed with a distinctive male chuckle and one murmured, “Ah hell.” But Shayla paid them no mind. Instead, she leaned her hip against the corner of the booth, hooked a finger under the Casanova’s chin and smiled. “Oh, I’m exactly your type, cowboy.”
His brow disappeared under the dark hair covering his forehead. “Really? How do you figure?”
She leaned in, satisfaction warm in her veins when he glanced at her chest and clenched his jaw. A slight nudge of her finger had his gaze returning to hers before she answered, “Because I’m breathing.”
With the table suddenly roaring with laughter, she patted his cheek then straightened. There. Let him run that through one of his computer programs and think on it.
To her surprise, the gorgeous cowboy threw his head back and laughed. A genuine laugh that lit his eyes electric blue, and zinged a strong round of awareness down her spine. Shoot. Not good. He was supposed to be mad. Arrogant. Defensive. Not laughing, and happy and friendly. She stepped back to steady her heartbeats. Stupid pulse.
“Good one, Shayla,” Jordan complimented, perched at the end of the booth on her husband’s lap.
“Yeah, well done.” Cole nodded, drawing his wife’s back against his chest as he smiled at Shayla. “You got any more?”
A smile tugged her lips. “Yeah, but it’s time to call it a night.” She nodded to Brandi and Jordan. “I had fun. Thanks.”
Her Forever Cowboy (Harland County Series Book 4) Page 2