by Lauren Smith
“Thanks, Penny. I’ll take a double side of bacon, a full stack of pancakes, and coffee. What about you, honey?” Fenn’s eyes twinkled as the endearment left his lips.
It took a force of will to look away from him and down at the menu. After a hasty scan of the items, she started to open her mouth, but he held up a hand.
“No wait. I know exactly what you want.” He studied the menu, then flicked a wicked gaze to her. “One egg over easy, whole wheat toast, a side of bacon and tea, that English Breakfast kind.” Then he winked.
Hayden just stared at him. How the hell did he know what she liked to eat for breakfast? “That was a lucky guess,” she conceded, her tone a tad imperial, which only made him chuckle and roll his eyes. She handed the menu back to Penny, who shook her head, silently laughing. Then Penny retrieved a pot of coffee and poured a cup for Fenn before walking back to the counter.
Hayden leaned forward and whispered. “She didn’t write down our order.”
He just laughed. “Penny’s sharp. She doesn’t need to write it down. I’m glad you’re not one of those girls who eats only celery for breakfast.”
This time it was Hayden who laughed, or rather scoffed, as she leaned back in the booth. “Life’s too short to live without real breakfast.”
“Agreed.” Fenn stretched his arm across the back side of the booth and watched the flow of people passing by the diner’s windows. Hayden didn’t miss the opportunity to study him. The top two buttons on his shirt were undone, exposing smooth, tan skin. When he swallowed, his Adam’s apple shifted and that fascinated her. It was in that moment that she was completely under his spell.
The tendrils of attraction, desire, and lust which had been slowly weaving their gossamer-fine spell around her solidified into an almost tangible cloak of seduction cocooning her. The way his lips formed a relaxed line, his eyes remained distant and unfocused, like the God of War resting after a mighty battle in the quiet solitude, made him look absorbed by his own thoughts and somber moods.
She didn’t want to compare him to Emery, but she found herself doing so. She’d grown up with one twin as an older brother figure in her life; this other…he’d been a dream conjured by the whispers of loved ones, the fears of a family, and the torch of light burning inside the brother and two friends he’d left behind. Part of Hayden feared that finding this lost child, the missing golden boy, would prove dissatisfying or unfulfilling. As she stared at him now, however, she knew that fear was forever silenced.
Fenn was a man lost in a deep sense of grief, grief he had no memories to explain, yet he had forged ahead and carved out a small piece of the world to call his own. It was easy to see he didn’t want to give it up. This place, this life, was all he’d ever known and he felt he was meant to stay here. Maybe he could…but he had to return to Long Island first. He had to face the past and confront his fear of the unknown. But how would she convince him?
“Fenn?” She prodded gently.
Clarity sharpened his gaze, and he focused on her.
“We need to talk about you going back to Long Island.”
“No.” His refusal was uttered before she’d barely finished her sentence.
“Please, just hear me out.”
He arched a brow. “I’ve done nothing but listen to you for the last day.”
Irritation skittered through her. “Have you really listened? I get that you want to stay here. But you can’t. You have to go home at least once, see your family, and then you can come back here and hide.”
He dropped his arm from the back of the booth and leaned over the table, a menacing darkness gathering in his eyes.
“I don’t hide.”
She had hit a nerve, but she didn’t pity him. The man needed tough love right now. “Prove it. Make one trip. That’s it.”
He leaned back in the booth, a dark expression on his face, storm clouds brewing in his eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere. The ranch needs me. Jim needs me. He had a heart attack a few days ago. Nearly died. I didn’t let the doctors tell Callie how serious it was; that news would break her. She’s too young. I won’t let her lose her only other parent.”
Callie again. Hayden ground her teeth together, fighting off the wave of disappointment. It wasn’t that she wanted Fenn to drop everything and pay attention to her, but she had hoped he’d really hear her out and return home with her.
“Fenn, this is serious. The ranch and Jim will be fine without you for a few days. We need to get you home to meet Emery, and make sure you’re protected from whoever is trying to kill you both. That’s what’s important here.”
He bared his teeth like a wolf. “No. It’s not. Emery can take care of himself. I can take care of myself. Jim and the ranch? They need me. This is my home. I’m not going to just get up and leave it because you think I’m some famous twin to some rich guy. My life is here; the people and things I love are here. We can’t afford to keep ranch hands anymore and if Jim tries to do work around the barn or feed the cattle…” His eyes were dark, burning with furious intensity. “He could die, Hayden. I’m not going to let that happen. The doctor told me how dangerous this is. Jim needs to rest for at least a month, let his body recover before he can start working the land again. Even then, he won’t ever be able to handle the type of work he used to do. It’s all on me.”
Hayden was taken aback. She hadn’t thought…hadn’t considered for a moment how precarious his life was here. He was just a razor-thin line away from losing everything he’d spent the last twenty-five years building. His home, his adoptive family—all of it could be gone in a blink. Guilt instantly ate away at her and she felt wretched for pushing him into leaving. He had to stay here, she understood that now, but he also needed to see Emery and Emery couldn’t come here, not while Sophie was in the hospital.
“Okay, I get it.” She blew out a breath. “We stay here for a while until things get settled.” She didn’t like the idea, when they could be attacked by some crazy person intent on killing Fenn, but it was obvious she couldn’t talk him into leaving any time soon, either.
“We?” He was grinning suddenly.
“Yeah, Wes and I will stay in town until you’re ready to come back home with us.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Oh no, honey, you’re going back home first thing.”
She leaned toward him, squaring off against him. Backing down was the last thing she planned to do.
“No, I’m not.”
“You are,” he insisted. “Because if you stay, I’ll end up taking you to my bed. I may never let you leave. You’re too much of a firecracker for me to resist. I’ll get you on every flat surface, begging me to fuck you. You’re not ready for that yet.” That cocky, cowboy grin should have made her furious, not so hot she was positive her panties were melting underneath her jeans.
“I think I’ll be just fine. Besides, I never said I’d sleep with you.” They were nose to nose across the table, the sexual tension between them so thick she could taste it.
“Honey, when I’m done with you, you’ll call me a sex god and worship my every touch. You’ll never want another man between your thighs ever again.”
Chapter 8
Well if that didn’t just make a girl sigh, she laughed inside her head. She’d do whatever she had to in order to get him home. If, along the way, she got to feel the leather of his belt binding her hands and his body on top of hers…well, she wouldn’t complain, but he’d have to work for it. Like a real dom. She almost grinned.
Penny came back to their table with two large plates laden with food and set them down.
“I’ll be right back with some extra maple syrup.” The waitress left them alone again.
Hayden went straight for the toast and nibbled on it, watching the people around her. The diner had filled up in the past few minutes with locals and visitors. An olive-skinned man in his early thirties wearing jeans and a t-shirt walked their way, grinning.
“Well,
well, somebody dragged your sorry ass out of bed, Smith. I’m impressed.” He stopped next to Hayden’s side of the booth and leaned one hip against it.
“Hi, I’m George. A friend of Smith’s.” He turned his full focus to Hayden, his smile open and his teasing obvious but sweet. She admired him for that openness, even if she didn’t know much else about him.
“Leave her alone, Romano.” Fenn’s warning was only partly friendly.
“So, let me guess. This is the beauty in the red dress?” He waggled his brows suggestively in a teasing way.
Hayden rolled her eyes, but was unable to hide her smile. “What is it with you guys and my dress?”
George cleared his throat. “Women don’t usually wear dresses like that to rodeos. Nothing that short or…” He changed the subject. “So you helped my buddy here get over his devastating loss?”
“Loss?” She had no clue what he was talking about.
“Yeah, I’m sure he needed cheering up. He didn’t stay on Tabasco long enough to qualify for the cash round. He was going to save the Taylor ranch—”
“Shut up, Romano,” Fenn growled.
“What? It’s not like it is a secret. You were trying to do a good thing. I don’t know any other man who would have taken the risk Fenn did last night.”
He’d nearly gotten killed out of a desire to save Callie’s home? Could the man be any more of a mystery? She had just convinced herself that Mr. Sex God was more self-involved than she’d thought and now he was flipping her judgment on its head.
“You almost died.” Her appetite withered and perished. With her fingertip, she gingerly pushed her plate away.
Fenn sighed dramatically and pushed her plate back toward her.
“I didn’t die. Now eat.” The natural command and authority in his tone overrode her own worries, and she relaxed a little and took another bite of her toast.
“Well,” Romano looked between them. “I can tell I’m interrupting. I just wanted to bust your balls a bit since you scared the hell out of me last night.” He nodded at Hayden and slapped Fenn’s shoulder before walking away.
“You certainly have interesting friends,” she observed. There was such an intense and refreshing aspect to men who said what they meant and didn’t try to play games. Not like the men back home, who spent more money on mistresses than wives and didn’t know the first thing about working hard at anything.
“George is a good guy when he’s not hitting on my women.”
“Your women? Am I to assume you’re including me in that group?” Hayden sipped her tea and watched him, expecting him to squirm. Most men did when she gave them a reproachful look. Fenn didn’t squirm.
“Any woman that I feel compelled to protect falls under that category. You, Callie, Mrs. Taylor before she passed, and even Penny.”
He was definitely a possessive protector type of dom. Like Emery.
So, it wasn’t a collection of women he considered lovers, but rather any woman in his life he deemed most important to him in some regard. It was a primitive notion, but oddly charming in its way. Like a gunslinger from the Old West, he acted as though it was his right to defend everyone.
“Why are you smiling?” He swirled a spoon through his coffee, sending up little swirls of steam.
Was she smiling? She hadn’t even realized it.
“Oh, no reason.” She hastily wiped the silly grin off her face. “So what’s this errand we have to run?”
“There’s a feed store and a supply store about forty miles away, past the cluster of mountains behind you. We need to get more hay and feed for the horses and cattle.”
“Why is there no feed store in Walnut Springs?” Hayden finished off her eggs and toast with a delighted little sigh.
“Walnut Springs is more of a tourist destination, and we’ve always traveled to Elk’s Pass over the mountains for supplies. Makes it tough in winter, but no one has ever tried to open a store here. Prime real estate gets snapped up by developers for resorts and stuff. It’s going to take a couple of hours to get there, and a couple of hours to get back.”
Hayden wasn’t complaining. It was nice to be out and about without any social agendas or her parents dictating her day. If she had still been at home, her mother would have dragged her on a pointless shopping trip and then forced her to attend some social function with a group of gossiping, middle-aged women who only knew how to spend their husbands’ fortunes.
“You finished?” Fenn asked her as he pulled out a worn brown leather wallet and plucked a couple of bills from its depths, leaving them for Penny.
“I’m ready.” Hayden slid out from the booth, thanked Penny as the waitress pressed by them on the way to the door, and followed Fenn back to the truck.
For all his rough edges, the man had an innate sense of chivalry. He opened her door and she let him. He didn’t do it because of any expectations of what such behavior would get him. He was just a gentleman.
The drive to Elk’s Pass was a scenic route through the mountains. The road curved and meandered along rocky-edged cliffs with steep drops. More than once, Hayden closed her eyes and avoided looking down. She hated heights. It was stupid, but whenever she looked over a cliff or a steep height, her stomach dropped down to her feet, and she got nauseous.
“You okay over there?” Fenn’s deep voice cut through her inner recitations of poems by Byron. Reciting verses was the only way to get her mind off the heights—that or count backward from one hundred in French.
She peeked one eye open and looked at him. “I’m fine.”
Fenn chuckled and slowly shook his head. “Says the girl who is whiter than an aspen tree trunk.”
One of these days his natural perceptiveness was going to get him punched. It unnerved her how easily he could read her.
“I don’t like heights. There, go ahead, laugh.” She waited for the expected outburst, but it didn’t come.
Instead, he surprised her by frowning. “People make fun of your fears often?”
She shrugged noncommittally. Her father and mother certainly did. Wes didn’t, but he had barely been around these last few years to offer any buffer from their parents.
“People who are afraid of heights always get made fun of. It’s like the most cliché fear; trust me, I know. But people don’t get it. When I look over the edge of something, I just picture falling downward, my head spins and my stomach goes all wonky.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“It is.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what, why don’t you slide over here close to me?”
His suggestion made her laugh. “So I tell you a fear and you use it as a way to cop a feel?”
Fenn’s face darkened with storm clouds. “I don’t want to cop a feel, but I do know that human contact helps when you’re afraid.”
“What? How do you know that?” she demanded.
“Because I—” He cut himself off and focused on the road. “I just do. Now get over here.” The natural command layered in his tone had her scooting across the seat until their hips touched. He removed his right hand from the steering wheel and picked up her left hand, lacing their fingers together. The innocent touch soothed her, and she quit thinking about the cliffs.
Damn the man, he was turning out to be right more than she would have liked. It gave him an advantage and she definitely wasn’t comfortable with that.
The one thing she’d learned early on was that if she wasn’t in control, she always got hurt. It repressed her natural submissive nature almost all the time. What would it be like to really let go, really let someone else have control in a relationship? It had to be freeing. She’d heard other submissives talk about the amazing free-feeling of total surrender, but Hayden had never known such bliss. Given her track record, she may never know that feeling. An aching loneliness settled inside her like heavy stones, filling her with cold, useless emotions.
Desperation to quench that awful feeling of aloneness surged through her, and she shifted close
r, letting her shoulder bump into his. His fingers squeezed hers tighter, making it clear that her seeking comfort from him was welcomed. It was so easy to just rest her head on his shoulder, and after a few seconds of contemplation, she decided she would. She curled her right arm over her stomach and clasped his forearm, the hold grounding her as she settled her cheek against his muscled shoulder.
“Thank you,” she murmured and closed her eyes. He didn’t say anything, just squeezed her hand again. It was the last thing she was aware of as she somehow managed to drift to sleep in the rumbling old truck.
* * *
Human touch had mattered when Fenn had needed it most. He hadn’t told Hayden about that. When he’d started to explain how he knew it would make her feel better it had nearly crippled his mind with a flash of a memory.
Darkness—the scuttling of insects in the dirt and the squeak of the exploring rodents. Comforting murmurs between himself and another—no…the other. The one he lost so long ago. The touch of their small hands was the only thing that pushed the terror and the darkness back.
The more he was around this woman, the more these slips in his mind were starting to happen. He wasn’t a fool. Everything was pointing to him being the lost Lockwood: the photos, the news articles, the shards of fuzzy memories, the coincidence of the time of his arrival at Walnut Springs with Lewis, his father. It all pointed to a fairly obvious answer, an answer he was too damned scared to face. How was he supposed to hit a restart button on his life? More importantly, did he want to?
Hayden rested against him, tucked up like an exhausted child. She was part mystery, part fascination to him. Why was she here? Wes, as a childhood friend coming here, made sense, but his little sister? Fenn had done the math. They were ten years apart. If he was Fenn Lockwood, he would have been gone two years before she had been born. So what was his little firecracker’s motivation? Hayden was all bravado and bravery, but he sensed most of her behavior was an act, a carefully erected defense against a world that tried to crush her. It reminded him of that saying about roses having thorns. She was just as beautiful and certainly as prickly, but he sensed she wasn’t always like that. The way she acted was more of a defense mechanism than a real part of her personality.