Dylan

by C. H. Admirand

  Shifting onto her side, she curled up into a ball, but the memory of the hurt in Dylan’s eyes wouldn’t leave her. Funny thing was, she felt worse than the night she’d discovered her ex–best friend was having an affair with her ex-husband. This time it felt as if her heart were being ripped out of her breast while someone scraped her insides raw before pouring acid on them.

  “Drawn and quartered,” she murmured. “Just the punishment I deserve.”

  Chapter 11

  “You gonna tell me what’s eatin’ you?”

  Dylan ignored Jesse, grabbed another bale of hay, and tossed it down off the truck. He hurt, inside and out, like he’d had the ever lovin’ shit kicked out of him and then rolled over so the black-haired filly could stomp all over him.

  “Never even got to the good part,” he mumbled. He sunk the hayforks into another bale, yanked up the bale, and tossed it down at his brother. Jesse swore as the bale hit him in the chest, but his brother’s anger didn’t faze Dylan. Not much would until he could figure out just what he’d done wrong last night. He hadn’t made any promises that he’d broken… hadn’t cheated on anyone, yet she’d all but accused him of it.

  Hell, he felt worse than the night he’d walked in from putting in a full day riding and mending fences and bumped into Sandy on her way out the back door, bags packed, one in each hand. Shock had held him immobile while the woman he’d been planning on marrying carefully placed her bags into her trunk and slammed the lid and turned back to him. She’d had tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away and reached for him, hugged him tight promising to write once she reached her destination in Egypt, and asked him to remember to listen to the next woman who was lucky enough to have him in her life.

  That was nearly two years ago and counting. She’d written letters and sent a couple of postcards, but he’d never written back. He didn’t know what to say.

  “Never told her I loved her.”

  Jesse paused and looked up at his brother. “Did you?”

  “I just told you I didn’t.”

  Jesse snickered. “No, Romeo, did you love Sandy?”

  Dylan kept working, the movement kept his brain from short-circuiting over the green-eyed siren who’d pulled the rug out from beneath him last night. “I thought I did. We grew up together, spent so much time together, and made plans—well, that is, I made plans. She had other ones that I guess I didn’t believe. I never thought she’d actually want to leave Pleasure. Life’s close to perfect out here. Why would she go?”

  Jesse shrugged. “Texas isn’t for everyone, Bro.” Wiping his sleeve across his eyes, his brother asked, “So what’s eating you?”

  “Siren-green eyes.”

  “Ahh.” Jesse took off his gloves and slapped them against his jean-clad leg. “That makes sense.”

  Dylan snorted. Didn’t to him. Hell, he still couldn’t believe he’d been accused and convicted without ever having the chance to prove himself. “Women.”

  “Can’t live with ’em,” Jesse said cheerfully, walking over to the jug of sweet tea he’d left by the corral. Taking a swig, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and lifted the jug and shook it.

  “Not yet,” Dylan said, declining the offer of a cool drink. “Why do women do what they do?”

  Jesse shrugged, pulling his gloves back on. “Why do men keep fallin’ for ’em?”

  They looked at one another and grinned. “’Cause they think with their johnsons,” they said simultaneously.

  “Was Grandpa ever wrong?”

  “Not yet,” Dylan answered, forking and tossing another hay bale down to his brother.

  They finished off-loading the pickup before Dylan stopped for a drink. “You make this tea?”

  Jesse shook his head. “Emily did.”

  Dylan tilted his head back and drowned the dust in his throat with a gulp of sweet tea. “She’s getting better at it.”

  Jesse snorted. “Yeah, last time she used ten tea bags.”

  Dylan snickered. “Jesus, I thought she’d killed me.”

  “Big Bro would have if he caught you laughing at his woman.”

  “Love’s got him by the throat.”

  Jesse agreed. “But it works for him.”

  “She works,” Dylan added. And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why Ronnie had struck out at him last night. “You understand women?”

  His brother tilted his head and thought about it. “Enough to know some shoot to peak faster than others and that some have this sweet little spot on the side of their neck—”

  “Not what I meant… but good to know you’re learning.” Dylan tilted his Stetson to the back of his forehead and rubbed at the line of sweat, adding a swipe of dirt. “I mean about the way they think, why their minds work ass-backwards.”

  “Nope.” Jesse put his gloves back on and headed toward the barn, calling out over his shoulder. “Emily’s in the kitchen. Ask her.”

  “Hell.” He couldn’t ask what he wanted to. How could he phrase it so she wouldn’t take a swing at him with the frying pan or other implement of destruction found in their kitchen?

  “She should know,” Jesse said, turning around, walking backwards toward the barn. “Let me know what she says.”

  He brushed at the bits of hay clinging to his shirt and legs and stomped onto the back porch.

  “Wipe the pasture off your boots!”

  “It’s not Tyler,” he answered, pulling the door open.

  Emily put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. “Don’t care. Wipe your feet before you track God knows what in. I just scrubbed the floor.”

  Embarrassed, Dylan backed up and did as he was told. Women. But maybe Emily would be able to help him understand how Ronnie’s mind worked. “Emily?”

  “Hmmm?” Her back was to him while she stirred a bowl filled with what smelled like chocolate cake or maybe brownies.

  “What’re you baking?”

  “Brownies.”

  He’d heard from Tyler that she baked brownies when she was stressed. “Is everything all right?”

  Emily looked over her shoulder at him. “Not sure how the new guy’s working out.”

  Dylan’s stomach clenched. “Doesn’t he show up on time?”

  “Most days.”

  Tyler’s girlfriend had become a part of their family and didn’t normally speak in one-word sentences. Something was on her mind. Wanting to help, he asked, “Is he giving you ladies a hard time?”

  “Not exactly.”

  The need to pound on something started bubbling to the surface. His brothers weren’t handy, so he suppressed the urge and tried to get to the bottom of the situation. “Then what’s bothering you?”

  “It’s hard to put into words,” she said, setting the spoon on the countertop. “I’ve got a bad feeling, but it isn’t fair to fire him without giving him a solid reason, other than he makes me twitchy.”

  Dylan nodded. “Agreed.” Watching her open the oven and slide the pan of brownie batter inside, he waited until she closed the door and turned back around.

  Their eyes met and she asked. “Something bothering you too?”

  His shoulders slumped. How did he ask a woman to help him figure out one of her kind?

  “Is this about Ronnie?”

  Her question had his gaze snapping up from his boots to meet hers. She tilted her head to one side waiting for him to answer. He shrugged and finally said, “She doesn’t trust me.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Did you do anything that would give her a reason not to trust you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then maybe it’s not about you.”

  Irritation flared inside of him. “Then who?”

  “Someone in her past taught her not to trust.”

  “Thanks.”

  Emily’s words swirled in his head and he remembered Ronnie’s question. Putting the pieces together as he walked through the kitchen, he suddenly changed direction a
nd headed toward the second floor. He hadn’t intended to go into town this early, but now that she’d put the thought in his head, it all started to make sense. What if he’d reacted differently to her question? What if he’d simply moved forward the way he wanted to, smoothly talking the woman into bed? He might not have spent the entire morning spoiling for a fight.

  He grabbed a clean T-shirt and the deodorant stick he’d tossed on the bed just that morning. Ready to tackle the job he’d left unfinished last night and the woman he was ready to butt heads with so he could get tangled up with her later, Dylan bounded down the stairs. He waved at Emily on his way through the kitchen.

  She had her hands in a sink full of suds. “Aren’t you riding out to the western pasture with Tyler this afternoon?”

  He shook his head, “Jesse’ll do it for me. I’ve got things to take care of in town.”

  Emily smiled at him. “Good luck, Dylan.”

  He went with his gut and pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “I’m going to need it.”

  She smiled at him. “Give her a chance to confide in you.” She patted his shoulder as he released her. “She needs a reason to trust you, Dylan. Whoever hurt her before did a number on her. It’s not easy to lay your heart on the line after it’s been stomped on.”

  “If Tyler ever changes his mind…”

  Emily laughed and shook her head at him. “Not in this lifetime. Now get going!”

  Dylan found Jesse out by the corral. “Hey, I’ve got to go to town early today.”

  His brother looked at him but didn’t say anything.

  “Tyler’s headed out to ride fences later—”

  “I’ve got your back.”

  Dylan opened the truck door and started to get inside, but Jesse’s question stopped him. “You coming back tonight?”

  He looked over his shoulder. His brother didn’t look as bad as he had the day before. The desperate look in his eyes was gone. Good thing—his knuckles were still sore from punching Jesse in the face and he didn’t think he was up to fighting with him tonight. “Not if things go as planned.” He paused then said, “Thanks, Jess. I’ll pay you back.”

  “Damn straight.”

  Putting the truck in drive he wondered if Ronnie would kick him out if he showed up at her door in the middle of the day. As he got out to open and then close the gate, he realized he couldn’t blame her after the way he’d left last night. Hell, he was acting like a female. Emotions were not his department; their youngest brother had the lion’s share in their family and had dealt with that sort of thing more often. He and Tyler didn’t. Up until recently the oldest Garahan had pretty much kept to himself since his ex walked out, but then Emily burst into his life and everything changed.

  Dylan acknowledged that he had a similar experience and hadn’t been the same since he’d lassoed a green-eyed lady with long black hair.

  What was it with Garahans and women walking out? Driving into town he mulled over that thought until he’d crossed into the town limits. He wasn’t sure and would have to ask Tyler, but he wondered if their inability to voice their feelings had anything to do with the women leaving them. Then again, Jesse talked all the time and Lori still left him high and dry—twice, for the same loser!

  Making a left onto North Main Street, he wondered if maybe it was the women they’d chosen the first time around and not so much something that was inherently wrong with the men of the Circle G. After all, if the women didn’t fit, was it any wonder that he and his brother had trouble telling the women how they felt?

  Pulling up outside of Guilty Pleasures, an ugly thought hit him. He might actually be headed down the rocky road to love alone. He parked, got out, and leaned against his truck. Up until they tussled on the floor, Ronnie seemed to feel the same way he did. They’d fallen asleep while she’d cuddled on his lap, like a couple that had been together for a while. She’d been right there with him, kiss for kiss, until he tugged her down onto the floor with him… maybe she really didn’t like being manhandled.

  The memory of the way her expressive green eyes went from pale, spring green to desire-filled emerald shot through him, having him shifting his stance to accommodate the tightness behind his zipper. She hadn’t minded the manhandling that first night. What had changed?

  “This isn’t getting anything accomplished,” he grumbled, pushing off the truck. “I’ve got work to do and then some.” He looked both ways and strode across the street toward the shop. Odd, but it didn’t look like anyone was there.

  He knocked, but no one answered. Concern slithered through his gut. He knocked again. This time, he tried the door; it wasn’t locked. Stepping inside, he shut the door behind him and called Ronnie’s name.

  Something was definitely wrong. Disturbing thoughts filled him, remembering what had happened over at the Lucky Star. His brother had been there to protect Emily during a break-in. Maybe someone had broken into Guilty Pleasures and Ronnie was upstairs… and in trouble.

  His gaze swept the room. Nothing seemed out of place and everything looked exactly the way he’d left it last night. He headed for the stairs, focusing on one goal: protecting the woman he’d walked out on.

  ***

  Ronnie breathed deeply and bent in half, letting mind and body work in tandem, allowing the deep stretch to work muscles that had spent the night knotted. She usually didn’t take a break midday to exercise, but she needed it today. Following Shannon’s suggestion, the soothing sound of harps filtered through the tiny ear buds attached to her MP3 player.

  She stretched forward, walking her fingers out in front of her until she’d stretched out fully. Concentrating on the movement and the mystic music flowing through her head, she walked her fingers back until she was touching her palms to the floor.

  Strong hands grabbed ahold of her waist, shredding the calm she’d worked so hard to achieve. Instinct had her drawing in a breath to scream, but the air burst from her lungs when she was tossed over a muscled shoulder. Panic morphed into fear as a large hand splayed across her backside.

  It took every ounce of nerve she had not to give in to the fear. She pounded on the man’s back with her fists and, just as she realized she recognized his scent, was tossed into the middle of her bed. Down but not defeated, she brushed the hair out of her eyes and pulled the headphones out of her ears.

  “You scared the ever-loving crap out of me!”

  Dylan’s nostrils flared and his eyes darkened with need until she could see her reflection in their depths. He stood towering over her, vibrating with a potent combination of need laced with anger.

  “A man can only stand so much torture, DelVecchio.” He toed off his boots, pulled off his socks, and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, yanking it over his head. The shirt landed on the floor behind him.

  Ronnie’s heart moved back down out of her throat. The man might have taken her by surprise, but he was a welcome intrusion and a magnificent sight. His pectorals glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, adding a magical dimension to the shamrock tattooed over his heart. With each breath he took, his broad chest expanded, emphasizing each and every sinew beneath the surface of his sun-bronzed skin. The need to touch tingled the tips of her fingers. She licked her lips and he narrowed his gaze.

  “There’s no turning back,” he warned. “I’ve wanted you from the first night I saw you.”

  She wanted to tell him that it was up to her to choose her lover, but he’d unzipped his jeans and was in the process of shimmying out of them. Inch by delicious inch, his glorious body was revealed to her.

  “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

  His mouth lifted in what might have been a smile, but his raging erection distracted her.

  The moisture left her mouth, as her body reacted, pooling the essential fluids where she would receive each and every tantalizing inch of him.

  Her nipples tightened as his eyes focused on her breasts. Stepping out of his jeans, he slid onto the bed until he was leaning over her on all four
s. Her body went haywire, sparks of lust shooting from her fingers down to her center. She wasn’t sure he’d fit, but she sure as hell wanted him to do his damndest to stretch her to the limit, as he tested his one hundred and eighty pounds of thrust against her one-hundred-thirty-five-pound frame.

  “I want you so bad, I ache,” he admitted, pulling the sports bra up and over her head.

  His eyes gleamed as he bent to take her breast in his mouth. He sucked her fully into his mouth and she shot straight to boil. She’d been primed and lubed, watching him strip; now she throbbed in time with his deep sucking motion.

  The strangled sound had him releasing her breast and rearing back on to his heels. He yanked her pants and thong from her body in one swift movement that had her lifting her hips seeking more.

  He shook his head and bent to take her other breast in his mouth. His lips and tongue tortured her, while his hands slid down her back to cup her backside, lifting her higher. She was powerless to move beneath the onslaught of his desire. She’d never been wanted like this.

  He buried his face between her breasts for a second before his lips began a foray up the side of her neck.

  She tilted her head to the side to give him better access. He groaned as he licked and nibbled a path back down her neck, between her breasts. When he flicked her left nipple with the tip of his tongue, she went blind with need. Switching to the other breast, he played her body like an instrument of pleasure. When his fingers slid down over her abdomen, he lifted his head and waited a heartbeat.

  She opened herself to him, offering everything she had.

  His hands and mouth worked in tandem, building the tension within her to the bursting point. Just when she was about to cry out to him to take her, he pulled back, covered his erection from tip to base with latex, and thrust into her. The sensual shock to her system had her locking her legs around his waist, allowing him to go deeper. Harder. Faster.

  She counted the first few thrusts, amazed at the power and pleasure she received with each one, until he drove so deeply inside her, he touched her womb. Rocked to the core, Ronnie felt the echo of that touch in her heart, cracking the walls she’d erected around it in order to survive her ex’s betrayal.