“I’m sorry.” Caleb ran his palm down his face. “I’m still trying to catch up to myself.”
“I understand. So, how’s things on the rodeo circuit? I hear you’ve been winning medals left and right.”
Caleb shrugged. “A few. But I’ll be out of commission for a while.” At Dave’s raised eyebrows, he continued, “An ornery bull threw me and decided that wasn’t enough, so he landed on my leg. Busted it up in a few places.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. It’s all fixed up now, but I need a couple more months before I can return to the circuit.”
If I can ever return.
“Well, we’re happy to see you again. Just keep your nose clean while you’re here.”
The deputy’s chuckle grated on Caleb’s nerves. But then he’d been out of sorts since he came face to face with his past. At least Dave wasn’t punching his lights out or slamming food down in front of him.
“So, what’s new with you?” Caleb eyed the uniform Dave wore. “I see you’re one of Laramie County’s finest. Been doing it long?”
“Yeah, right after you ran out of town to make a name for yourself. Went through the academy, and been wearing the blues since then. I like it. It suits me.”
“Locking up all those kids who damage school buildings?”
“And keeping an eye on newcomers to town with busted up legs.”
“Ha. Not a newcomer, Jamison, a returnee.” He pushed away his empty plate and signaled for another beer. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Nah. Thanks. I’m waiting for my girl.” He shot Caleb a knowing look. “She’s gonna meet me here for dinner.” He took a vibrating iPhone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “And, she just pulled in.”
Dave looked up as the door opened. “Hi, darlin’. Just saying hello to an old friend of yours.”
Caleb took a swig of beer and turned to stare directly into Rosemary Carmichael’s stormy amber eyes.
Chapter Four
Rosemary’s stomach fluttered with awareness when she spotted Caleb sitting at the bar with Dave. The memory of their time together still burned bright in her mind. The pain of his desertion was just as fresh today as it’d been all those years ago.
Why couldn’t he have just stayed away?
Caleb turned toward her with a hard stare. A fresh wave of anger rolled through her, instantly smothering her hurt and leaving only steam behind. He had no right to be angry with her. He was the jackass.
She was so over Caleb Johnson! Been there. Done that.
Didn’t need the heartache again.
She snorted. Hell, her life was a damn country song. Squaring her shoulders, Rosemary marched inside and up to Dave, wrapping her arms around his waist and lifting her face for a kiss.
Dave grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement, because their relationship so far was more friends than lovers, and he’d only kissed her once. He’d understand her brazen display was for Caleb’s benefit. But being the gentleman he was, Dave didn’t let her down. He threaded his fingers through her hair and leaned in, giving her a deep kiss.
But just like the other time he’d kissed her, she felt nothing. Not even a tiny sensual quiver. Zilch. Instead, Caleb’s image floated behind her eyelids.
God! I’m in serious trouble.
She thought of Carson, her little angel, and was able to rein in her betraying emotions. There was no way she’d allow Caleb to crush her son’s tender heart into the dirt on his way back out of town.
The sound of a heavy thud broke the kiss, and she glanced up to see Caleb glowering at them, beer foaming over his longneck bottle and running across his tightly gripped knuckles.
Her feeling of satisfaction was quickly followed by guilt. She’d never been the vindictive sort, and she shouldn’t care whether Caleb was jealous or not. They had no future, only a sad history.
Caleb wasn’t a keeper. He’d never stay. She needed to protect Carson from the same kind of heartache she’d suffered when she’d awoken alone, abandoned . . . pregnant. Every tender promise he’d made, a lie. All damn lies.
“So, Caleb,” Dave asked, “how long are you in town for?” He tucked her close to his side.
“Don’t know. Depends.” Steel threaded his voice as he turned away from them. “Mikey, another Bud.”
“Be right there,” Mikey called over his shoulder as he served two fruity-looking concoctions to a couple of young women at the end of the bar.
“Well. Um,” Rosemary stammered as the air sizzled with awkward, uncomfortable tension. “I guess we should get a table.”
“I already have one picked out, darlin’.”
With his arm still around her waist and a smirk on his lips, Dave steered her toward the dining area. He led her to a corner table and held out her chair so she could sit, then leaned down and nuzzled her neck, before taking a seat across from her.
She groaned under her breath when she saw she had a direct view of the bar, and Caleb. His brooding gaze rested on her as he picked up his beer and took a long draw. Not. Good. She’d known him most of her life, and his body posture indicated he was seriously pissed off.
Irritated, Rosemary turned her attention to Dave.
He stared back with a wide-eyed innocent expression. “What?”
“You were baiting him.”
A grin split his face. “Yeah. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Was it?
She shook her head in silent denial. Caleb wasn’t worth the emotion it’d take to rile him up. She’d already spent too many years crying over him. He meant nothing to her now.
That’s not fair and you know it. She stifled a sigh. No, it wasn’t fair.
There’d been times, before she and Caleb ever hooked up, that he’d listened to her woes and offered a shoulder, advice; hell, just an open ear. When her mama was driving her nuts or her daddy got itchy and they all wondered if he’d make it through another weekend without bolting. She’d vent and Caleb would display a lot of patience for a guy willingly dealing with an idiot teenage girl.
She shook herself from the memories when Adrianne stopped by and took their orders. Neither she nor Dave needed a menu; Rosemary had eaten here often enough to know exactly what she wanted. She shot a quick glance toward Caleb, noting the two women from the end of the bar had sidled up next to him. Her mouth tightened, the momentary softening she’d felt toward him fading fast.
He seemed quite content to have those bimbos fawn over him. Something ugly rose up inside her and for a second or two she wanted to rush over and pull out their bottle-blonde hair. Rosemary forced her attention back to Dave, who was watching her now with solemn, knowing eyes.
To his credit, he didn’t say anything.
Now it was her turn to ask, “What?”
Dave leaned over the small table and took her hand. “Rosemary, you and Carson mean a lot to me.”
Rosemary shifted uncomfortably, reluctant to have this discussion. There’d never be anything more than friendship between them. She thought he understood.
Her brows squeezed together. Damn it. She just wanted to enjoy Dave’s company, eat dinner, see a movie . . . and forget Caleb Johnson ever existed.
Dave chuckled, although the sound was devoid of humor. Still holding her fingers loosely, he brought his other hand up and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Relax, darlin’. I know you don’t feel the same way. I get that.”
Rosemary smiled sadly, not knowing what to say. She didn’t deserve his friendship. “I’m sorry, Dave. You’re a great guy—”
“Whoa!” He released her hand and sat back in his chair, bringing both his palms up in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Don’t give me the ‘you’re a great guy, we can be friends’ line.” The look he gave her held real affection this time. “I know you and Caleb have a history. Hell, everyone knows Carson’s his.”
She didn’t deny it—never had—although she didn’t talk about it either. “Ancient history. There’s nothing between us now.”
The words rolled off her tongue easily enough, and yet they tasted like a lie. She frowned, picking up her dinner napkin and spreading it across her lap.
He clucked his tongue. “That’s not exactly true, darlin’. There’s Carson. And regardless of how things work out between us, I want you both to be happy.”
Her emotions churning, a tear slid down her cheek. Why couldn’t she have fallen for someone like Dave? He was handsome, solid, and dependable. Not some footloose cowboy with dreams of being a rodeo star. Even six years ago she knew Caleb could easily end up breaking her heart. “Carson and I are happy.”
He brought his thumb to her cheek and swiped at her tears. “Are you? From what I can see, you’re so tied up in Caleb you can’t move on, can’t give another guy a chance.”
“That’s not true. I’ve dated plenty,” she denied, though she knew he was speaking the truth.
Evelyn dropped off their drinks with a quick smile for them both, and Rosemary reached for her margarita. She needed something to help her relax. Her nerves were strung tight.
Dave lifted his frosty beer mug, his expression pure devilment. “Maybe you need some help working him out of your system.”
She choked on her drink, giving him an incredulous look. He was so full of it. Damn, but he was cute, with that golden brown buzz cut and those twinkling hazel eyes. Why couldn’t she have fallen for him, instead of the town heartbreaker? Still, her tension eased and she laughed. “Are you offering, cowboy?”
He grinned at her over the top of his mug, and took a swig, then wiped the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand before replying, “Maybe.”
Setting his mug down, his expression grew serious. “Or maybe you need to give him another shot, or at least an opportunity to know his son. Then you’ll be able to finally move on.”
Should he have the right to know his son? No! He abandoned us.
But he hadn’t known about Carson. He’d only abandoned her.
Rosemary looked back at the bar and her stomach clenched, hurt rushing through her veins. Caleb had his arm around a floozie’s waist as she stared up at him like some puppy dog looking for a bone.
But his glittering gaze was solidly locked on Rosemary, even as the woman’s hand crawled up his chest. Then the other bimbo leaned over and whispered something in his ear as she pressed up against his back. He glanced around to the voluptuous blonde, and smiled.
A smile he used to turn on her right before he made love to her.
A smile he now gave to two sluts in a bar; one he’d probably been giving to women all across the rodeo circuit, along with his body.
Rosemary’s heart hardened and she turned away as Adrianne came up to their table with their meals. No, she didn’t want Caleb Johnson.
But did that give her the right to keep him away from his son?
Chapter Five
Right about the same time Rosemary finished her meal and got to her feet, Caleb realized the last thing he wanted was a couple of local barflies hanging all over him. The hurt look she cast him, before glancing quickly away, made him feel like a real jerk.
Busy detaching the blonde’s inch-long fingernails from his shirtsleeve, he glanced toward the dining room again, just in time to see Rosemary pause next to Dave, slip her purse strap over her shoulder, then lean in and kiss the bastard’s cheek. Dave watched the sway of her jeans-clad hips all the way to the door.
Caleb wanted to rip off Dave’s head and stuff it up his ass. And then confront Rosemary. Remove the pain from where it burned a hole in his gut as if he’d eaten acid. Clear the air between them, once and for all.
He’d purposely stayed away from her for two days, reacquainting himself with the slower pace of Dustin, trying to take it easy on his leg. He’d looked up a few old, still-local friends, even reconnected with his Uncle Zip, spending an hour or so the other night yakking to him long distance to Rock Springs, where Zip had landed after leaving Dustin. Most of his meals Caleb had eaten at the diner off Main.
Some needed space. That had been his aim. For Rosemary, and for him.
Pointless.
Easing off the barstool, he fished in his pocket for a twenty, tossing it on the counter. Over the drunken protests of the women he’d pushed away, Caleb took the side ‘Bar Only’ entrance and slipped out. In those damned sexy high-heeled boots, Rosemary wouldn’t have gotten halfway across the parking lot yet.
Sure enough, he spotted her a short distance away, near the floodlight over DeeDee’s fancy new sign. Rosemary’s head was bent and all that gorgeous red hair sheltered her face from his view. She dug through her purse, probably searching for her keys.
Aside from the need for confrontation, he worried to think she’d walk around Dustin with her head down after evening set in. Not paying attention to anyone who could just step up and grab her arm.
Yeah, like me. His mouth set into a grim line at her careless regard for her own safety.
Not breaking his stride, Caleb reached her in under five seconds, taking her arm in a firm grip. With a feminine squeak of protest, she spun toward him.
He caught a brief flash of her lacy black bra as the deep vee of her sleeveless blouse gapped revealingly. For a second he had a chance to admire the way her skin looked like cream against the lace.
With an irritated huff, she started squirming and pulling at his hand. “Damn it, let go, Caleb. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“We gotta talk.” Wanting some privacy from nosy townsfolks, he maneuvered her away from the floodlight and off the sidewalk, stopping just inside the alley where empty boxes had been stacked for trash pickup.
She tugged harder. “Nothing to talk about. Let go.”
“Nope.” He’d sucked down enough beer to take the sensible edge off his brain. “I’ve got some things to say to you.” He backed her into the nearest brick wall and slapped his hands on her shoulders to prevent her from bolting. “You’re damned well gonna listen.”
Rosemary shoved her hair out of her face and gave him one hell of a stink eye. “You’re drunk and an asswipe. Want to talk about that?” Under his palms, the set of her shoulders tightened like a cocked bow.
“I want to know what Jamison is to you,” Caleb growled.
She stiffened even more. “None of your business. Now get your hands off me!”
Releasing her shoulders, he slammed his palms onto the wall behind her, not touching her, but still blocking her exit. “Better?” he growled.
She stared up at him silently. In the dim alley lighting he could see how anger lit her up, more than likely making her too furious to speak. Well, tough, because they had a thing or two to get straight.
“And it is my damned business, Rosie. The man’s a skirt chaser and if he’s hanging around my son—”
Caleb got no further because Rosemary was suddenly in his face, one slender finger drilling into his chest. “You don’t get to say who hangs out with my son. You sure as hell don’t get a vote in who chases my frigging skirt.”
She poked his chest harder. “You don’t know a thing about me, or Dave, or what’s gone on in this town since you’ve been goddamned gone.”
“Knock it off.” Beyond irritated, he grabbed for her hand, yanking her closer. Until every inch of the denim and cotton she wore was plastered against him. Her breath hitched, and the rapid rise and fall of her breasts made Caleb break out in a sudden sweat.
The jealousy and anger roaring through him switched off like a light bulb. All he could concentrate on was Rosemary.
God, he could smell her, some kind of flowery stuff he remembered she always used on her hair. Her lips parted and he caught a tang of the margaritas she’d had. The feel of her body brought back memories of hot nights, damp bedsheets twisted on the floor, long, tangled curls; fingernails digging into his bare shoulders.
He stared down into her beautiful face. She’d been a pretty kid, an adorable teenager. And almost too much woman for him at nineteen, in spite of her inno
cence. Now she simply knocked him sideways. He wanted her. Hell, he’d never stopped wanting her.
The thought of her dating a guy Caleb used to consider a friend . . . Damn it all to hell.
He couldn’t take it.
Dave Jamison, kissing her, his fingers twined into those gorgeous, fiery locks. Holding her with arms that didn’t belong around her tiny waist, mere inches from the breasts Caleb had been the first to claim. She’d smiled at Dave. And frowned at me.
The ten-second kissing scene he’d been forced to watch in DeeDee’s bar played over and over in Caleb’s brain until he groaned aloud. The flash of desire he’d managed to bank suddenly came back with ferocity. Asswipe that he was, he let it take him over.
Grasping her by the arms, Caleb pressed her back into the wall again, then lowered his face until his lips were an inch from hers. He registered the shock in her eyes, dilating the amber until they were almost black.
“Caleb—” She swallowed and licked her lips. The hint of protest in her voice when she uttered his name should have resulted with him treading softly. But then her fingers curled into his shirt lapels and she tugged. Hard. Toward her.
Against her.
Jesus.
On a groan, he took her mouth hungrily. Her taste exploded on his tongue as he dove deep.
Deeper.
He raked a hand over her blouse, finding an opening between buttons, slipping his fingers inside on a search for silky flesh. The lacy bra she wore barely covered her, and he cupped a firm breast. Six years simply disintegrated into nothing as he relearned her skin, the way she trembled in his arms, how her tongue met his with aggression. Rosie Carmichael had never been a shrinking violet at nineteen, and she wasn’t one now.
Closer, damn it. Caleb didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until she moaned a high, thin, “God, yes,” into his mouth and opened her stance, rocking on her high heeled boots. He thrust his free hand under her bottom and hoisted her up so she could wrap a leg around his hips, a sensual anchor. Now her fingers were buried in his hair, gripping it tightly enough to rip out chunks. The pain only added fuel to his overloaded system. He pinned her harder against the old brick wall.
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