by Em Petrova
She had a lot to think about.
* * * *
Witt was finished trying to come up with an excuse to walk into The Sweet Tooth. He didn’t want to fabricate an occasion to buy candy or cupcakes. He wanted to see Shelby.
He hadn’t slept at all last night but was strangely jittery. He’d done his chores before first breakfast and had showered and dressed in his nicest jeans and western shirt, the one with the pearl buttons.
“Looks like someone’s going on another wife hunt,” Kade had joked from the bathroom door.
Witt had scuffed his knuckles over his jaw, wondering if he should shave. But the ladies he’d been with seemed to respond to the dark shadow of hair. And Shelby sure as hell hadn’t seemed to mind last night while he’d kissed the breath from her.
He parked his truck on the street, easing it into a cramped spot between a truck and a Jeep. He looked up at the cupcake on the sign and licked his lips, thinking of the woman inside.
When he walked in, he skidded to a stop. The black and white tile floor seemed endless between him and the counter. A growl rose in his throat.
Five men surrounded Shelby. All of them were people he’d grown up with—and none were good enough for her.
Using his broad shoulders, he pushed his way to the counter.
“Hey Dalton, what’s your beef?”
He shot the guy a look he hoped would shrivel his balls. The man backed away.
“Witt’s in a hurry to get himself a box of candy, I guess,” someone drawled. “Wait your turn, Dalton.”
He gave the other guy his most intimidating stare.
“What are you doing, Witt? You can’t just bully my customers away.” Shelby’s clear voice sent a bullet of want straight through him.
“Any of you paying?” He surveyed the five faces. Not one reached for his wallet. “That’s what I thought.” He rounded them up and herded them out the door like sheep. Once the door was closed in their surprised faces, he stomped back to Shelby.
“What are you doing? Y-you can’t come behind the counter,” she sputtered.
“Can and will.” He caught her hand and towed her into the back room. She blinked up at him, eyes wide, full lips parted, wearing the sexiest skinny jeans and form-fitting top that accentuated every inch of the curves he needed to touch. Now.
He reached for her. Before he could bend her over his arm and kiss the hell out of her again, Alex bounded up to him with a smile.
“You came! Did you bring Kiser?” he asked.
Burning to lay hands on Shelby and make her realize her reaction to him wasn’t ordinary, he looked at her hard. Don’t do this, her blue eyes seemed to plead. He pushed out the breath he’d been holding and gave Alex his attention.
He scrubbed a hand over the boy’s head and Alex leaned against his thigh, a warm, solid weight that brought Witt back in control of his surging desires. His mouth tugged into a smile. “I’d like you to come to my ranch and see Kiser.”
“I want to but Mom hasn’t said yes.” He screwed up his eyebrows.
Shelby drifted closer to him and Alex. “Actually I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve decided…we’ll come with you to the ranch, won’t we, Alex?”
Witt jolted in surprise and his heart broke free like a wild mustang. He locked his gaze on Shelby for a long second while his mind jumped ahead to getting her alone, learning every corner of her brain—and body—then proving his worth.
He cleared his throat. “I’d like that. When do you close?”
“It’s Saturday so…” She trailed off as if she’d forgotten, staring at his shirt buttons.
“Four o’clock,” Alex piped up.
“Smart boy,” Witt praised him. “I’ll be back for you at four then.”
Shelby twisted her hands together. “Today?”
“Do you want to tell this face he has to wait another week?” He tipped Alex’s head up so his mother could see his puppy-dog eyes.
“Good point.” A soft smile toyed with her lips.
Something deep broke inside Witt.
He removed his hand from Alex’s mop of hair and reached for Shelby. When he covered her warm hands with his, emotion shifted in his chest. Undeniable. All he had to do was persuade her that they needed to explore this attraction. He didn’t need much more time to contemplate the protective feeling she raised in him—he never dragged out a decision, especially once he knew what was right.
She pulled away from his touch. “Witt…”
He gave her a smile. “Yeah?”
“M-maybe I shouldn’t have agreed. I was too hasty in saying we’d come.”
“Not getting out of it now.” He ducked his head to fix her in his stare. “Besides, Momma’s got a big supper planned for you.”
“But you didn’t know I’d say yes!”
“I’m an optimistic man, Shelby.” He squeezed her hands and released them. “What do you say I take Alex to the school playground and introduce him to Mac at the general store while you finish the day?”
Alex bounced. “Yes!”
“Shelby?”
She sank her teeth into her lower lip, looking indecisive.
“I promise to take good care of him, and you know I won’t be stuffing him with sweets since you’ve got the only shop in town.”
“There’s always the coffee shop.”
“Good point. I can’t guarantee I won’t buy him an espresso.” He grabbed Alex’s hand and headed to the door. “Or a puppy,” he said before the bell jingled behind them.
As he led Alex down the sidewalk, the boy skipped and jabbered. He was glad to see him happy but it weighed on Witt. When he’d placed his hand in Witt’s and led him out of the shop, Shelby’s eyes had welled with tears.
He didn’t totally understand her worries over Alex, but he was damn well going to get her talking. Confiding, spilling her guts, sharing hopes and dreams. Maybe nothing would come of their mutual attraction in the end, but at least she’d know she had a friend in him.
Witt watched Alex go down the sliding board about 200 times. Then he pushed him on the swing until the boy said his stomach hurt. So Witt sank to the neighboring swing and they talked about fishing and hunting.
Alex said he didn’t have a daddy in his house to take him fishing. Witt studied the boy’s deep brown eyes, wanting so bad to offer to take him. But he bit his tongue before he made promises Shelby wouldn’t like him to keep.
“Think it’s time to help Mom close up shop?” he asked the boy. They’d never gotten to the general store. Alex had been easily entertained at the playground.
“Let me check the time.” He stuck his tongue between his teeth and squished up his face to look at the sun.
Witt chuckled and stood, cramped as hell after forcing his long legs into a position on that swing. “Are you any good at telling time by the sun?”
“Dunno. I think it’s nine-seventeen. Am I close?”
Laughing, Witt clamped a hand on Alex’s shoulder and they walked back to The Sweet Tooth. The place was empty and Shelby had the music turned up a bit louder. When she heard the bell jingle, she came out of the back room.
Flushed, a tendril of hair clinging to her damp cheekbone.
His heart turned over. Holding her gaze, he pushed behind the counter, grabbed her around the waist and started two-stepping her. Alex hooted with laughter. Shelby threw her head back and giggled.
The effects of that laugh burrowed into Witt’s body and his Wranglers grew a size too small. He spun her under his arm then reeled her close.
Every sweet, tormenting inch called to him. His mouth hovered over her upturned lips and he gazed into her eyes.
“Witt…”
He gave her a slow grin before releasing her. “Ready?”
* * * *
Shelby let her gaze skitter over the brothers who looked so alike she’d never keep them straight. She’d have to resort to calling them Hunk 1, 2 and so on. During the fried chicken dinner she’d hardly been able to ea
t a bite under all those dark blue stares.
Alex had sat between her and Witt and managed to tuck away two whole drumsticks and a pile of potatoes that would feed a small family in a third world country. After that, the guys went out to do chores and the others drifted onto the porch.
All the Daltons were courteous, but it was impossible to ignore the knowing looks Witt’s mother, Maggie, threw at her.
“Here, have some dessert.” The woman named Charlotte had a baby in one hand and a Mason jar filled with berry cobbler in the other.
“Thank you.” Shelby accepted the jar and sank to the porch steps beside Alex. He was busy talking off Maggie’s ear. The woman wiped his cobbler-covered face with a big cloth napkin and nodded when he paused.
He really was a different child around the Daltons. Not a bit shy or withdrawn. If only he’d let his own mother in again. She had a feeling he was angry about the divorce and blaming her for his father being out of the picture. She’d discussed it with him, but he was so young, who knew if he understood?
One thing he understood was good food, fresh air and kind people.
Shelby spooned a bite of cobbler into her mouth. Decadent berry goodness made her taste buds sing. She groaned loudly.
Charlotte smiled. “Good, isn’t it? It’s one of Hank’s favorites.” Her gaze tracked across the yard to the barn where the brothers were doing evening chores. One had a pitchfork and another carried an enormous feed sack.
Shelby had no clue what was even involved in evening chores but the men sure looked fine doing it. Muscles bulging under their western shirts, thighs straining against worn jeans.
When Witt emerged from the barn with his hat tipped low, she froze with a bite halfway to her mouth. God, he was a beautiful man. Inside and out, it seemed. Playful, genuine. He knew what he wanted and right now that seemed to be her.
Chewing the delicious bite of cobbler, she tried to calm her hormones. She wasn’t here so Witt Dalton could drawl her panties off. No, she was here because Alex seemed to blossom around Witt—and the other Daltons.
She leaned against the porch post and watched Witt stick a long blade of grass in the corner of his mouth. He turned away from her and bent to heave another grain sack over his shoulder.
She stopped breathing. A V of perspiration wet his shirt back, molding it to carved muscles. Her fingers twitched to stroke them. She gripped the glass jar tighter and squinted into the setting sun.
“This is gorgeous land,” she said.
Charlotte nodded, lip captured between her teeth as she stared toward the barn at Hank. “Umm-hmm.”
Shelby hid her smile around another bite of cobbler. Judging by the way the curly-haired woman was looking at her husband strutting across the yard, she’d have a baby for the other knee in no time.
Witt swaggered into the barn with the sack. Shelby watched his strong backside go, a knot of warmth stretched tight in her stomach. Her body screamed for a chance to kiss, touch and lick the hunky cowboy, but her brain needed to grab the reins.
No more men in her life. Her boy came first.
Witt stuck his fingers in his mouth and released a short, shrill whistle. Shelby’s body stood at attention, her nipples puckered at the raw display of manliness that was Witt Dalton.
He waved a hand and hollered, “If you’re done stuffin’ your face, boy, come and see those animals before it gets too dark.”
“Can I, Mom?” He slammed the glass jar on the step with such force she thought it might shatter and jumped to his feet.
“Go on.” His big, berry-smeared smile was a ray of sun after a monsoon. He ran off, kicking up dirt, and Charlotte and Maggie joined her in laughter.
“He’s all boy,” Maggie remarked.
“Totally.”
Alex and Witt vanished into the barn again and came out with armfuls of cats. They sat in the yard, letting the myriad of orange, white and speckled cats climb all over them.
Across the yard, Witt met her gaze. A kitten perched on his broad shoulder, and Shelby could resist no longer. Maggie took the jar from her. Shelby didn’t remember walking but suddenly found herself sinking to the ground among the cats too.
“I want this one, Mom. It’s so cute!” The brown freckled fur-ball twined around his hands, tail flicking.
“It is cute.” She rubbed its ear and it purred.
Witt was staring at her mouth so intensely, she swiped at her face, fearing she had a trace of cobbler there.
“Don’t worry, you can’t wipe away beauty like that,” he rumbled.
She flushed from the toes of her boots to the tips of her ears. She shouldn’t let him sweet-talk her, but it felt so good to be desired by a man like Witt. She could get used to this.
“Hey Alex, I’m going to feed the pigs. Come along?” Hank asked.
Alex’s eyes popped out. “Can I really?”
“Go on,” Shelby said, fielding the cat he almost threw off his lap. “Oh poor thing.” She set the feline on its feet and it slinked back into the barn with an offended twitch of its tail.
She looked up and met Witt’s steady gaze. “I’m glad you came,” he said, low. So low her stomach flipped and parts she didn’t remember possessing tingled to life.
She had no idea what to say or where to look. Feeling like a fish flopping on desert sands, she struggled to say something that wouldn’t give him the wrong impression.
“Alex likes you.”
“He’s a good kid. We get along fine.” The way he drawled “fine” sent ribbons of warmth skittering over her skin. Her heart tripped too fast, her breasts ached and her panties were wet.
All from one long, drawn-out syllable.
“I have a feeling his momma would get along fine with me too. If she’d let herself relax.”
“I’m relaxed.”
He laughed, the sound rich and full. He scooted closer and the cat on his shoulder walked onto hers. It licked at a strand of her hair and she couldn’t help but giggle.
His eyes lidded. “You’re gorgeous when you laugh. I need to make you laugh more often.”
“Witt…I came because Alex wanted to see the animals again.”
He nodded, gaze fixed on her face. Suddenly he stood, legs unfurling. She followed the denim hugging his calf up to his thigh and almost choked at the bulge in his jeans.
Was he hard? If so, what had she done to cause it? The power she held over him flooded her head.
He reached down for her. She blinked at his hand. How would it feel in hers? Warm, rough. She knew that already. She wanted to know his touch up and down her bare body, those long digits teasing her wet folds.
She shook herself and the cat leapt off her shoulder. She had no excuse to remain seated. She put her hand in Witt’s and he pulled her to her feet.
“Walk with me,” he said.
“What if Alex comes looking for me?”
“Hank’ll find us if that happens.”
She thought Alex would have trouble remembering he had a mother let alone to come looking for her.
After retrieving her phone from her back pocket, she checked her messages and sighed with relief when she didn’t find any.
Witt chuckled. “No cell service here in Paradise Valley.”
“Oh.” She replaced the phone and tried to put some distance between her and Witt, but he caught her hand.
“I want to get to know you, sweetheart.”
Dark need slithered through her. “Please don’t call me that.”
“I get that you might still be recovering from your divorce. I’m sorry if I’m too forward but I can’t help it. I like you.”
His words punched the air from her. She curled around a desire so hot and bright, she was blinded. Witt stood before her, strong and good. Everything she’d fantasized about those other guys being. They’d all failed miserably.
“Let me get to know you, Shelby.”
She felt herself caving in. “What do you want to know?”
He stroked a lock of he
r hair off her jawline. Her heart rate spiked. “Why don’t we talk about that kiss we shared?”
“No.” Not that. Anything but that. She was already leaning toward him.
They were out of sight of the house. A glance around told her none of the brothers could see them either.
He trailed his sandpapery finger over her jaw and up to her ear. When he threaded his fingers in the hair on her nape and tugged her mouth to his, she lost herself.
His kiss was slow and tender. Had any man ever smelled or tasted so good? She couldn’t remember one. He glided an arm around her waist and pulled her against his hard length. Every inch of her throbbed as it made contact with the muscled cowboy.
Her lips parted and he swooped in, tongue plunging, drawing a long moan from her. He issued a rough growl in response and angled his head to get closer.
She clung to him, allowing him to slowly burn her to ash. By the time she felt his hand moving over her spine toward her ass, she could hardly recall her name.
“Witt, stop.” Was that her voice? It was too breathy.
“Sweetheart, these lips are made for me to kiss.” He brushed another feathery caress across her lips, making her feel drunk.
“I’m not here for kisses.”
He straightened but didn’t release her. “No, you’re here because something’s going on with your son—something he forgets about when he’s around animals.”
“Or you,” she said grudgingly. Tears were too close again.
With a knuckle under her chin, he lifted her face to look in her eyes. “Let’s talk about that. I want to help.”
“You’ve already helped more than you know. To see Alex reaching out to touch someone—to touch you…” A tear splashed down her cheek.
“Then he isn’t normally affectionate?”
“Since the divorce, he’s built a wall around himself and he won’t let me inside. He lets me do things for him, but touch him? Hug him? No.” Her voice pitched higher as emotion clogged her throat.
Witt wrapped his arm around her and started walking. She put one foot in front of the other and stared at the horizon. In the distance, a house perched on a rise, as pretty as a painting.