Second Burn Cowboy (Second Chance Series Book 6)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  “Jacey Stanhope. She’s traveling Europe with her book group. I was lucky that I found it. Rent-free and all I have to do is water some plants and make sure her things are safe. Easy.” Elsa opened a bottled water and downed half.

  “The kitchen isn’t much, especially when you’re making cupcakes in there.” Peyton frowned as she pointed to the galley kitchen.

  Elsa shrugged. “At least it has an oven.”

  “You could have come and stayed with Dante and me. We have the space,” April chimed in as she plopped onto the pink Peacock chair. “Wow, I need one of these at home. This is comfortable. Peyton, you have to try. This is the best my back has felt since I’ve gotten pregnant.”

  Elsa bit back a giggle as April, with large round baby belly, attempted to pull herself out of the low chair. She waved a hand of defeat and sank into the cushion. “April, I appreciate the offer, but there is no way I’d intrude on you and Dante. After all, you’re still newlyweds.”

  “You could have also stayed with Dillon and me, too. We have plenty of space in the new house,” Peyton added.

  “Ladies, I’m grateful for both of you, but I’m fine here. And look, when I want to get groovy, all I have to do is turn this on.” She clicked the power switch of the disco ball and the bright lights swirled the room in color. “Now, this is some life, huh?”

  They laughed. “What does Jacey do with all of this stuff anyway?” Peyton wrinkled her nose.

  Elsa shrugged. “Beats me. I didn’t peg her as the hippie-type. In fact, I thought she was more of a nerd.”

  “You’re coming to Dante’s birthday party tomorrow, right Elsa? When I asked you to make the cake, that included an invite,” April said.

  Elsa drained the water bottle. “It’s probably not a good idea.”

  “And why is that?” April narrowed her gaze.

  “Because it’s a family function.” Elsa pretended interest in swatting a fly.

  Peyton shook her head. “Friends are invited, too. Aspen is coming.”

  Elsa kept her expression blank at hearing the name. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

  “Not good enough. You’re my fiend and you need to socialize. You can’t hide away in this dinky apartment treadmilling. You’re already skin and bones,” April sighed.

  “Is that even a word? Treadmilling?” Elsa joked.

  “Well, if it wasn’t before, it sure is now.”

  “Okay, I’ll stop in for a bit. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my friends.” Elsa sat down on the short sofa and tucked her legs up under her bottom. “By the way, how are you ladies feeling? Are the babies anxious to get out of the oven?”

  April palmed her large stomach. “Junior here has decided that he loves kicking my ribs. Unlike Mary Poppins over there who looks radiant and has had the easiest pregnancy known on the face of Earth.”

  “Don’t be a hater.” Peyton laughed. “If you remember right, the first few months weren’t as easy as pie.”

  “One thing I can say, even if I still have morning sickness, I’m always horny. Dante and I are having more sex than ever and I swear it’s a cure for most pregnancy issues.”

  “It’s not like Dillon and I don’t have sex, but now that I’m so big and my stomach is pressed, I’m afraid I’m going to puke on him. I’d never live that down.”

  Elsa laughed. “Eat crackers and risk it.”

  After they drank tea and ate tarts, April and Peyton left to finish the last of the preparations for the party.

  The next day, wrapped up in finishing the cake for Dante’s birthday, Elsa hadn’t realized how late it was. She packed up the cake and sealed the container then took off for the shower. Butterflies fluttered her stomach, but she wouldn’t allow her anxiety to get in the way of a good evening. Sure, Deckland would be there, but that was okay.

  After showering, she took her best sundress from her suitcase, shook out the wrinkles and laid it out on the bed. The bright red always made her happy, and looked good against her pale complexion. She hadn’t worn it in a long time and she had a glimmer of excitement rush through her—it had nothing to do with seeing Deckland, of course.

  Once upon a time, owning an upscale restaurant, she’d always dressed in fine clothes, her hair coiffed and her make up detailed. She’d lived a life of luxury until she’d walked away from it all.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She only wanted happiness—she wanted to make someone happy.

  Lying back on the comforter, she closed her eyes, and Deckland appeared behind her lids. She missed him.

  Before she could give herself freely, she had to repair a past that continued to haunt her, fix the mistakes she’d made.

  She’d stayed with Tom too long, until she’d almost lost herself.

  The last time he’d abused her, she’d wanted him to pay for the pain he’d caused her, but more than anything, she’d wanted to get away and find herself again.

  That night seemed so clear, like it was only yesterday.

  As Silently as possible, she’d tiptoed around the bedroom, gathering a few items, shoveling them into the small bag, not thinking what she’d keep or take—the thought of leaving her only focus.

  Once she had stuffed the tiny bag, she’d tiptoed out of the room, down the hall and into the kitchen where she’d kept a spare car key hidden in the utensil drawer. Tom never cooked and she knew it’d be safe there, including the small savings she’d stashed. Because he’d kept track of every cent, she’d had to sneak it bit by bit—coin by coin.

  Not bothering to close the drawer, she turned and smacked into Tom, sending her against the edge of the granite counter.

  “Going somewhere?” His voice contained rage.

  She reminded herself, standing there with fear spiraling through her spine, that this was her time to leave. There was no turning back. “I’m leaving.”

  He laughed and the bitter sound worked its way like poison over her flesh. “Like hell you are. Get your ass back into the bedroom.”

  She’d never stood up to him, at least not since he’d become harsher. “I won’t. I’m done being mistreated. I told you the last time, if it happened again, I’d leave. And, it happened.”

  He reached out, grabbed the suitcase and jerked it out from her hand then threw it across the room. “I’m sorry, Elsa. I lost my temper. I shouldn’t drink.”

  “You always say sorry but you don’t follow through. You say you won’t hit me, but you will. You say you’ll stop drinking, but you won’t. I’m not a punching bag. We’re not the same couple we were before. You’ve changed. I’ve changed. We’re no longer happy.” Her voice pleaded. She just wanted to walk.

  “Don’t make me angry, Elsa. You know I’ll never let you go,” he spat through clenched lips.

  “You don’t have a choice, Tom. I’ve made my mind up and I’m walking out that door.”

  He stepped closer, drenched in whiskey odor and another woman’s perfume. It made her stomach turn. She knew by his cold expression and fierce gaze that he wouldn’t let her walk. Doing the only thing she knew to do, she slowly moved her fingers to the open drawer, behind her back. When her fingers were on the cold handle of the sharp knife, she secured her fingers around the metal.

  He lifted his arm, his fist clenched. With no hesitation, she pulled out the knife, holding the tip against his chest. “Don’t make me hurt you,” she whimpered.

  He looked from the knife back to her, his eyes turned black as he chuckled, as if he found something humorous about her bravery. “You? Hurt me?”

  “I don’t want to, but I will if you force my hand.” She held the knife with shaking hands, willing her body to relax and not falter.

  “You, bitch! Have you thought this through? Where will you go? You are nothing without me. I made you who you are today. When we met you were just one generation away from white trash, a step up from a whore of a mother. Now, put the knife away and let’s go to bed. Tomorrow will be a brighter da
y.”

  “You’re right, tomorrow will be a brighter day because I choose for it to be better. Now, step back and let me pass,” she demanded.

  “You know I’ll only hunt you down,” he seethed.

  “And you’ll be wasting your time.” She kept her gaze steady with his, not blinking.

  He took a step to the side and motioned for her to pass. Slowly and carefully, without turning her back to him, she moved around him and toward her exit of freedom. Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse quickened in her neck and her stomach turned. She bent to gather her bag, clutching it with trembling fingers as she continued to back with slow paces toward the door.

  She counted each step as she watched him, waiting for him to make a move. He stood still, only watching. Jaw tight and lips thin.

  As she made it around the corner, out of his sight, she turned and dashed toward the door, making her way through the bolt lock and chain. The chain had slid free. Then the tug came on her hair, a tingling at her scalp. Fear raced through her and on instinct, she lifted the knife and sliced him. Blood squirted as he pulled his wounded hand toward him, holding it against his chest. His chin came up, his eyes poisonous. “I’ll make you pay for this, cunt! Just you wait and see.”

  She darted into the hall, jumped into the elevator and hit the button for the bottom floor, leaving a smear of blood on the panel. Once the doors slid closed, she grabbed the first thing she came to in her bag, wiped the panel and wrapped the knife in the cloth. A few seconds later, the door slid open and she strode out, looking both directions in the lobby. No one was around at this late hour.

  She hurried toward the glass doors and jetted outside. Turning left, the first trashcan she came to she’d dropped the wrapped knife in.

  Pulling herself out of her reverie, she quickly dressed. She needed to find a way to forget. To let the guilt fade.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “DRINK A BEER and relax, bro.” Dante handed Deckland a cold one. “I’m glad you decided to come. I’d have kicked your ass if you chose not to show up for my birthday.”

  Deckland sighed. “I wouldn’t have missed your birthday for anything in the world. Happy birthday, Dante.” He saluted him with the bottle and brought it to his lips, taking a long sip.

  Dillon approached them. “Dante, you look about as shitty as I feel.”

  “Thanks, Dilly. Wait until the babies are born. I have a feeling we won’t know what sleep is.” Dante shook his head.

  “Late night run for ice cream too?” Dillon asked.

  “No. April wanted pickles. The ten jars of variety—dill, garlic, sweet, you name it— in our fridge weren’t good enough. She wanted a pickle from the deli, some odd spiced one. And by the time I made it back home, she was sound asleep.”

  Deckland laughed.

  “I’m glad you think this is funny, bro,” Dillon snarled.

  “I do. I slept good last night,” Deckland said with a wriggle of his brows.

  “You wait, Deck. Your time is coming.” Dillon and Dante clanked bottles.

  “If you say so.” Deckland doubted his time would ever come. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but he did envy his brothers’ happiness. Nearing forty, he’d like to think he could settle down and have a few kids before he started getting senior citizen benefits.

  As his brothers dispersed, Deckland was left with his beer. He had the bottle to his mouth when he saw Elsa walk into the backyard, carrying a large pink box. His chest did a weird number, and he swallowed a much-needed drink. Her chin came up and her gaze slipped across the distance, melting with his. He couldn’t decipher the look. Was she glad to see him? Repulsed?

  No, a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

  Hell, he needed to quit worrying and wondering.

  It seemed like everything imaginable popped up when he was trying to get to know her better. They may have gone a little too fast at first, but he was willing to go as slow as necessary until she was comfortable.

  But the wishy-washy treatment wouldn’t work.

  He’d never had trouble attracting women, and he’d never been shy, but there was something about Elsa that made him feel like he had two heads and walked on his hands instead of his feet.

  Elsa had a fire within her that she maintained at a slow simmer. She held herself back and he wanted to understand why. He guessed she thought he wouldn’t understand, but he doubted there was anything that would sink the attraction in his gut.

  The time had come that he quit wasting time and find out what she hid. He discarded his beer in the metal trashcan as he made his way toward her—anxiety making his spine tingle. She leveled him with a drop-dead gorgeous smile and his heart did a loop, and then he realized that wasn’t his smile. April and Peyton were the winners of Elsa’s attention—for now. He growled in frustration.

  He was determined to find a way to impress her.

  If only she were easily captivated. He knew she wasn’t the type who liked flowers. Or a lot of attention. She liked a simple, straightforward man who didn’t rely on flashy attempts to gain her charm.

  He watched and waited. Peyton and April took the box from Elsa, and she was alone. Deckland took a step toward her but stopped when Tucker greeted her. Elsa offered him a sweet smile and Tucker beamed. Deckland wasn’t a good gauge for rating handsome men, but if he had to give it a shot, he’d say Tucker rated about a nine on a scale of ten. He was a nice guy, and Deckland respected his work ethics and knowledge. Obviously, Tucker found Elsa attractive, but there was something about her body language that told Deckland she wasn’t interested in the younger cowboy.

  This encouraged Deckland to interrupt them. When he stepped next to Elsa, she didn’t offer him a smile, but he could see the fast beating of her pulse in her neck and that told him a lot. Her sweet scent wafted along his nose and he inhaled sharply. His body ached in need.

  “Hey, Deckland.” Tucker interrupted Deckland’s thoughts.

  “How’s it going, Tucker?” Deckland dragged his gaze away from Elsa and onto his ranch hand.

  “Great. It was nice seeing you, Elsa. I’ll catch you both later.” Tucker dipped his hat and left Deckland and Elsa alone.

  “How are you?” Deckland asked.

  “I’m doing okay. You?”

  “I can’t complain.” He scratched his jaw. “Things aren’t going to be uncomfortable with us, are they?”

  She shrugged, sending the strap of her dress down her slender shoulder. His fingers ached to tug it back into place, but she was on it before he could move. “Why should they be?”

  “You tell me.” She was everything he’d wanted, and yet she was like a faucet, he never knew if he’d get hot or cold water. He’d vowed he’d never open himself up to emotional pain. But like a dumbass, he couldn’t imagine not seeing Elsa.

  At his age, he’d never expect to be vulnerable, open to pain, and it scared the hell out of him. And yet, he felt good, too.

  Hell, he was in deep shit!

  He needed to find a rope to pull himself out, but he doubted he’d find one.

  He skimmed his gaze along the silken length of her neck to the creamy flesh of her chest and the tops of her breasts. He didn’t need to see her naked to remember every inch, every soft curve of her luscious body. He’d fantasized about the things he wanted to do with her, pleasurable interludes they could share.

  “Elsa, come here. I want you to meet someone,” Peyton yelled from across the yard.

  “I guess I better go. Can we talk later?” Elsa’s long eyelashes swept across the tops of her freckle-scattered cheeks.

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  Watching her walk away, his gut clenched. He should run as fast as his feet would carry him.

  “I haven’t seen you drooling over someone like that since high school.” Dillon approached him, breaking into Deckland’s mental wanderings.

  “I don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about,” he grunted.

  “I’m glad you’re fina
lly opening yourself up to a relationship, but be careful there, bro.” Dillon’s voice sobered.

  “What do you mean?” Deckland narrowed his eyes.

  “While I was coming up to the house one day while Elsa was staying with you I happened to see a fancy car parked in the drive. Curious, I investigated and found Elsa and some pretty boy out back on the patio. I started to introduce myself, but I realized, by body language, they weren’t having a casual chat. It was more like a lover’s quarrel. I watched for a bit to make sure she was okay, and the stranger finally left. I asked Peyton if she had any clue who he was and she thought it could be her ex.”

  Deckland rubbed his chin as the puzzle pieces scattered more. What was he missing? “Interesting.”

  “I’m getting the idea you didn’t know she had company.” Dillon sighed. “Sorry, bro.”

  Deckland shrugged. “No worries, Dilly. I know she has a past. I just haven’t scraped away the details yet.”

  “Well, I hope you do, Deck. Peyton and April think she’s a perfect match for you. I’m sure if it’s meant to happen, it will.”

  Lifting his gaze, Deckland saw Elsa lighting the candles on the birthday cake. Tendrils of her hair swept around her cheeks and she brought a hand up and pushed them away. He kept his eyes on her long, slender fingers and pale pink nails—fingers that he longed to have on his body again, not just once more, but for as long as he was alive. She was hot in bed, and he knew that after what they’d shared in his truck, but there was so much more to her than sex appeal. Somehow, she’d reached inside of his chest, clutched his heart and she hadn’t quite let go since.

  She’d also made him feel more alive than he had in years.

  But he’d known all along she was hiding something from her past. And now, he’d been handed a large piece of the puzzle and he needed to find out the facts.

  April said something and Elsa bent her head back and laughed—a beautiful, melodic sound that washed him with warm honey. She was unlike any other woman he’d ever known, ever had in his life. She blew him away on every level.

  There were so many traps and hurdles on the path. Although he wanted to strip himself of every boundary, a sliver of warning flashed in his mind. Who was this man who’d come to visit her? And why hadn’t she told him?