Montana Fire_A Small Town Romance

by Vanessa Vale

  “Wear one of the dresses tonight with Dex or I will hear about it.”

  She would, too.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I mean it!” she yelled. A kid screamed in the background. “Shoot, I’ve got to go. Caroline blew a bubble and it popped all over her hair.”

  Click.

  * * *

  I fell asleep on my bed, face first, with the bags from the shopping trip at my feet. I’d bought two dresses, a pair of black strappy heels, and underwear from Victoria’s Secret at the mall. Kelly ordered me to get matching sets, so I ended up with black lace, red satin and an ivory pair that were made out of some sheer material that left nothing to the imagination.

  Initially, Kelly had been disappointed I’d given her coffee away, but forgave me when she learned it was for Dex. Skeptical at first, she grew to the idea of me going to dinner with him. Although she was wary of me going out with a guy who gave me the heebie-jeebies, she’d chalked the whole date up to practice. The more I got out there with guys I knew weren’t keepers, the better I’d be once I got to the one who was. Besides, all I had to do with him was eat. Nothing else. Gourmet sex was optional.

  Maybe the keeper was Ty. At this point, I didn’t know. I had feelings for him. All kinds of feelings. Did they include love? It was possible but, for now, it was all clouded by the whole someone-wanted-me-dead issue.

  At six, I rolled out of bed, showered, shaved, primped and spritzed, and was out the door by seven. Only a little bit late. I’m usually a stickler for punctuality, but I took too long debating what to wear. Did I choose the new black dress or the new red one? The red one screamed fuck-me-now and I didn’t think that was the image I wanted to get across with Dex. My other option was my usual black capris and white shirt, but Kelly warned me she’d shoot me dead if I went in that. So, little black dress it was.

  Dex was waiting at the bar, but joined me at the hostess stand when I came in the restaurant. He wore clean Wranglers, boots and another crisp, white shirt. His brown hair was neat, his face shaven except for the handlebar mustache. I had to admit, he looked good. As he approached, his gaze raked over me from head to toe. From the look in his eyes, maybe the black dress screamed fuck-me-now, too. He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You look lovely. Would you like a drink?”

  He guided me by the elbow to the bar where he’d left his beer and white cowboy hat. The bar was crowded so Dex stood and gave me the tall stool. I sat and crossed my legs. Crap, my dress rode up my thigh just shy of slut. Dex definitely noticed.

  I took a deep breath to try to calm my nerves. “Um, beer’s fine.”

  He signaled to the bartender, and then turned to me. His leg brushed mine. “I’m glad I ran into you today. I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” he said, without any of the nervousness most men had when admitting their feelings. Dex was one confident man.

  My drink came in an icy pint glass. I took a sip. “Really?”

  “Like I said at the coffee shop earlier, I think we should start again.”

  The hostess approached and showed us to our table. Dex, the gentleman, held out my chair for me. Gilly’s was an upscale restaurant on Main, located in the basement of one of the older buildings. The ambience was warm, the lighting dimmed and the food excellent. We sat at a table in the back where it was quieter, a small candle between us.

  Kelly had told me to use this as a practice date. I wore a dress and heels, had on makeup and earrings. This in itself was out of the ordinary. I definitely needed practice in the super high heels.

  Usually I held my feelings and opinions close, especially with someone new. But with Dex, knowing this would be the first, and only, date, I could lay it on the line, stick it all right out there. Like the top half of my breasts in this dress.

  It didn’t matter what I said. I wasn’t trying to impress him. I wanted to make him not like me so there wouldn’t be another date. And this wasn’t actually a date. It was dinner where I could learn more about Morty Moore. He was the key to finding out who wanted me dead. If dressing up and wearing high heels—and dealing with Dex—was the price for information, I could handle that. For about two hours. Then I turned into a pumpkin and went back to my regular life and comfy clothes.

  “Start again? I think you made yourself very clear about what you wanted with me the other times I met you.” I held the menu in my nervous fingers.

  Dex nodded. “Yes, I did. I still think I’m right.”

  Really? I raised my eyebrows.

  “Just hear me out. I took you for someone who was a submissive or possibly interested in being one.”

  I was offended because that was soooo not me. “How could you tell by looking at me? You didn’t know anything about me. You still don’t.”

  The waitress came for our orders.

  “What would you like?” Dex asked me.

  “The fish,” I said as I looked at the waitress.

  “She would like the fish and I’ll have the steak, rare.” Dex took my menu and handed them both to the waitress.

  “I can order my own food,” I commented, my hackles raised. I’d never had someone order for me, except my mom when I was six.

  “I have no doubt. But why would you want to? Don’t you find comfort with me taking care of your needs, protecting you?”

  “From the waitress?” I asked sarcastically.

  “Not her specifically, but from the hardships, the dangers in life. Giving the day to day challenges to someone else to handle frees you to take care of different, more appropriate things.”

  I didn’t think ordering food was a hardship, but who was I to say? “What more appropriate things?”

  “Your husband, family, home.”

  I smiled. “So this dinner,” I moved my hand to indicate the table, “isn’t really a date. You’re looking for more, a lot more.”

  Oh, boy. I was way over my head.

  “I admit, I’ve been with women and knew they were never worthy of being my wife.” He took my hands in his large ones. “But the moment I met you, I knew. I want you to be my wife.”

  14

  Holy crap.

  “Are you proposing?” I squeaked.

  He shook his head, squeezed my fingers. “I’m sorry, I admit, I’m not doing this very well. No, it’s not a proposal. I’m stating my intentions. Letting you know I’m serious about you, about us.”

  I pulled my hands free. “I have a life, a job, children.” As I took a big gulp of my beer, I wished I had something a whole lot stronger.

  “Yes, you do. But your job, you work for your mother-in-law. She would understand your need to care for your family first. And I’m sure your children are wonderful, just like our children will be.”

  This got weirder and weirder. I actually thought it was funny, and I tried not to laugh. This was every woman’s dream! A man who stated his intentions on the first date. Who wanted to commit. To have children. To provide for them in every way. A man who had a job, who was attractive, had all his hair, and most likely would for years to come.

  To top it off, out of all the women out there, he wanted me! This was not good.

  I didn’t want to live out in the boonies. I didn’t want more kids. I didn’t want to be Suzy Homemaker. I didn’t want to be his wife.

  “Before you said you would take care of things for me. Take care of me. What does that mean?” I wanted clarification and would I take mental notes for Goldie. She’d love to learn the inner workings of a pseudo-Dom—if she didn’t know already!

  Dex smiled, leaned forward. “If you were my wife, I’d expect you to manage my home, raise our children, be the proper, respectful wife at all times, especially in front of others.”

  I could only imagine what that meant. And he was sooo not a Dom. He was a faux Dom.

  “Behind closed doors,” he continued, “obedience, the ability to recognize my needs and take care of them immediately.”

  Um. Hunh.

  “And you, as husband and provider, what woul
d I get from you?”

  The waitress brought our salads.

  Dex didn’t touch his but looked at me, intently, seriously. “I will take care of you financially, emotionally, physically. I will make decisions for you—”

  “Like what to eat?” I interrupted.

  “I would offer my suggestion about what you serve, what you wear, where you go.”

  Finally. The good stuff.

  “These would all be things you like. A rare steak, a revealing dress, things like that?”

  He nodded. “That’s correct. Wouldn’t you want to please me by serving food I like, wear the clothes that make you attractive to me, go places I feel are safe?”

  I took a bite of salad, chewed slowly, and swallowed. Stalled. “What wife doesn’t want to do that for their husband?” I had to admit, he had a point. When I’d been married to Nate, I wanted to cook things he liked to eat. I often picked clothes that I knew would turn him on. I called him when I would be out late so he wouldn’t worry. “I did that for mine.”

  Dex pointed his fork at me. “Exactly. When you came to the ranch last week, you were nervous, skittish.”

  True. But that was because Dex was way more man than I could handle.

  “Your husband—I remember you said you’d been married—dominated your spirit, the very essence of who you are. He took that from you, without providing in return.”

  I swallowed hard. “How do you know that?” Wow, I was having dinner with Dr. Phil.

  “I can see it in your eyes when you talk about him.” Dex put his fork down, focused on me. “What did he do to you?”

  What the hell, I thought. Practice date. Practice date. It was the weirdest practice date I’d ever been on. Although this was the first. I sighed. “He cheated on me. Said things that made me feel bad about myself. Left me for another woman.”

  Dex’s jaw clenched in anger. “If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him. You should not be treated that way.” His voice confirmed it.

  I smiled weakly. “That’s…in a weird way…nice of you to say.”

  The waitress traded salad plates for entrees.

  “He should not have needed to seek out other women. When you are mine, I will make sure you are pleasured sexually, just as much as you will pleasure me. I guarantee there will be no reason to stray.”

  “And what would happen if I did stray?” I dared to ask.

  Dex smiled again, this time without any warmth. He cut his steak. It was so rare I waited for it to moo. “You won’t.” He put his silverware down and leaned close, his voice a husky whisper only I could hear. “I’ll give you the best orgasms of your life. You’ll be begging for more.”

  I blushed. I could feel it to the roots of my hair. This conversation was going completely the wrong way. How had we gotten this far into what it would be like if I married Dex?

  As if!

  I wanted to find out about Morty, not Dex’s fantasy marriage. Maybe going along with him would get him to share more about himself. It had worked so far. Maybe he’d be compelled to share about Morty. Maybe.

  Okay, play along. Play along. “Multiple orgasms sound…appealing.” I tilted my head and attempted my best flirtatious smile. “Tell me more,” I tried to sound seductive, although to my ears it sounded as if I needed a cough drop.

  Dex’s eyes flared at my sudden interest. He was still close, our conversation intimate enough not to be overheard. “You submit to me in every way, every sexual way, and I’ll make you come. Hard. Every time. Once my ring is on your finger, I’ll train your body to be constantly aroused. You won’t have time, or want to do anything else but pleasure me. I doubt I’ll even let you get dressed the first few weeks.”

  Somehow Dex’s dirty talk sounded creepy, not arousing. And I was super creeped out. I liked to wear clothes. And he’d forgotten there would be two kids under foot. Sexy times weren’t the same with children.

  “This is um…a lot to think about.” Truest statement I ever made. “But I want to know more about you. About your work, your ranch.”

  Dex must have felt he’d given a good sales pitch toward marriage as he’d returned to his dinner. After taking a few bites of meat, he asked, “What do you want to know?”

  “I heard about the poor man who used to work at your ranch. You know, the one I asked about when I first met you?”

  “Right,” Dex said, bitterly. “I heard about that, too.” I could practically see Dex take a step back emotionally.

  Change tactics! Think! I reached out and placed my hand on top of his, pinned him with my gaze. “I just worry that something like that might happen to me if I lived with you. Someone was murdered!” I tried to sound like a complete wuss.

  Dex brought my hand up to his lips, kissed my knuckles. “Thanks to you I learned Mr. Moore stole from me and was obviously involved in criminal activity. If someone hadn’t already killed him, I assure you, I would have taken care of him myself. No one messes with my ranch, with what’s mine.”

  I could tell that was all I was going to get from Dex about Morty. Which was nothing. Crap. He’d turned all possessive and was smart enough to know I was fishing for information if I asked more.

  We finished our meal and Dex walked me to my car. It was almost dark, the sky a deep purple. The air was surprisingly cool. I opened the door and turned to him. He’d moved in close, pinning me between the open door and his body. I could smell his cologne, feel his body heat. “You’ll consider all we talked about?”

  I nodded. My palms were sweating. My heart pounded in my ears. He was too close, in my circle.

  “I’ll call you later this week. Dinner again? This time at my house.”

  He didn’t give me an opportunity to answer. His lips found mine before I had a chance to say no. I’d never kissed a man with a mustache. It was odd, ticklish. Like kissing a man and a caterpillar at the same time. Definitely weird. His mouth was warm on mine, tender. It wasn’t a possessive kiss, surprisingly gentle considering his size, his dominating personality. I thought about how it must be hard to keep a mustache clean when you ate soup. Was it hot having a mustache? My mind wandered, clearly not into the kiss.

  I didn’t pull back, didn’t push him away either. Practice date. This was a practice kiss. Would I ever kiss another guy with a mustache? Was this my last mustache kiss? It was brief, no tongue. Pleasant. And pleasant wasn’t the word you wanted describing a kiss with a man. Unless it was your grandpa.

  I wanted the zing I’d discovered with Ty. When I kissed Ty I forgot everything, forgot even to breathe. Ty! The image of him popped into my head and made me pull back from Dex. I felt my stomach do a somersault with guilt at letting Dex kiss me. I wanted Ty’s mouth on mine. Only Ty’s.

  “I…I have to go,” I murmured, lost in my thoughts of that sexy fireman.

  Dex stepped back, let me get in my car and close my door. I let out a deep breath and drove off. I was definitely in over my head with Dex. He wanted to marry me and have mustache kisses the rest of my life. This was bad. Really bad. I had to figure my way out of this. But not tonight. I wanted Ty and I wanted him…now.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Ty knocked on my door and took in my outfit. His jaw tightened. He pushed past me and into the kitchen. “Russell Hosanski was at Gilly’s and said he saw you. With a man. Based on what you’re wearing, it must’ve been some date.”

  Oh crap. “Who is Russell Hosanski?” I asked. Damn small towns. Of course, he’d find out. What had I been thinking? Unless Dex and I had a picnic in the woods, someone who knew me was bound to be around.

  “Works B shift at Station Two.”

  I followed him into the kitchen. “That doesn’t explain how he knows me.” My hands went to George the Gnome and fiddled with him, my finger running over the pointy hat.

  Ty rolled his eyes. “I told him the same thing. He finally admitted to being a customer of Goldilocks on occasion.”

  “Ah.” That clarified everything.

  He m
ade a circular motion with his hand. “So, Gilly’s?”

  “Yes. Gilly’s.”

  He went to my fridge, pulled out a beer, popped the top and drank half of it in one swallow. He wore his fire uniform, although he must’ve dumped all the electronic paraphernalia off at home because his belt was gizmo free.

  “So who was this date?”

  “Drake Dexter. He has a horse ranch down by Ennis.”

  I wasn’t going to share the fact that he was the same man from the horse auction at the fair. Definitely a bad idea right now.

  We stared at each other, his gaze so intent, so dark I swallowed. It was blatantly obvious Ty was jealous. His body was tense. He practically ground his teeth to dust when I’d said Dex’s name, making the guy real for him.

  This was so cool!

  I’d never been the kind of woman who made men jealous. Now, I had two men interested in me. Dex wanted to marry me and make babies. He also wanted to take away my own free will and keep me naked all day. The only thing I knew for sure about Ty was that he cared about me, wanted me, and was not planning on taking over my life. We’d never talked about babies. The idea of being naked all day with him didn’t freak me out at all. In fact, it made me hot all over. Zing!

  “It must have been some date if you wore that,” Ty grunted his response. “Is he still here?” He looked over my shoulder toward the living room.

  Now it was my turn to overreact. I had planned to tell him I wanted to have sex with him right this very minute. Now, I just wanted to be pissy. “No, he’s not in there. The bedroom actually. You caught us just before he ripped my clothes off.”

  “Funny,” Ty said sarcastically. He ran a hand over his face.

  “You’re jealous because I went out to dinner with another man!” Okay, screw being pissy. I just wanted him. I fisted my hands at my sides ready to either punch him in the face to knock some sense into the man or pull him in for a kiss. I took a step closer. The nearer I got, the more turned on I became. Something about arguing made my adrenaline, and other juices, flow. Made me want to rip the uniform off his hot body. This past week had all been foreplay.