Un-Hitched: A Camden Ranch Novel

by Jillian Neal

  “You think fate wanted you to buy a saw?”

  “If you ain’t got a better explanation then hush up, boy. You scared of fate?”

  Grant didn’t reply.

  “Mm-hmm that’s what I figured. Anyway, I sat in the parking lot of the store ‘til it opened then I marched inside, hell bent on a saw I didn’t need. That’s when I saw her. My God, she knocked the wind right outta me. Purdy as they come, and all of a sudden there was something else in the Montgomery Ward I needed way more than a saw.

  “I wasn’t paying a bit of attention to anything other than watching her. I walked right up to her and then couldn’t think of a thing to say. I didn’t even notice that she was stocking women’s underthings ‘til she turned the color of them tomatoes my mama used to grow in the garden. Anyway, I managed to greet her, and she jerked a stack of … well … you know, stockings, and other things, and what not, behind her back.”

  “You scared to say panties, Pops?” Grant chided.

  “Didn’t I tell you to hush? So, there we stood. She got rid of what was in her hands and smiled at me. I was done for. I don’t even know how it happened, but next thing I knew she’d up and decided I needed a new suit. Kept telling me navy blue brought out my eyes. I swear to ya, I’da bought a purple pinstripe suit that day if she’d said to. She was climbing up that ladder to get me a pair of pants off a shelf. Her heel got caught on a rung, and my heart stopped right then and there. I couldn’t even stand the thought that she might get hurt. That’s when I caught her.”

  “Good catch.” Grant tried not to think of the panic that had whipped through him when Kaitlyn’s heel had caught on the ladder in the storm shelter.

  “Best of my life. After I finally stood her up, she kept thanking me and apologizing for falling. I considered myself lucky she’d fallen ‘cause that meant I got to catch her and keep her safe. She invited me to a protest that evening out in Omaha. I had no clue what we were protesting, and I didn’t mention that Omaha was ‘bout six hours from the ranch. I said I’d go. I never made it to the base to see Roy. Hell, after that, I never saw nothing but your grandmamma. She’s my whole world. Always will be. It turned out we were protesting the government taking Indian land out in Omaha.”

  “Native American, Pops.”

  “That’s right. I mean no disrespect, just slips my mind now and again. Anyway, to be sure, I was the only cowboy at the protest, but she was so passionate about the land, and the people, all we’d taken from them, and fighting for what she believed in. She was the kind of girl who was willing to sacrifice for what she knew was right. I swear I could’a proposed right then and there.”

  “That might’a been a touch fast.”

  “You’re a Camden, Grant. Don’t ever take us long to figure who’s supposed to be ours forever. You know it. I know it. You heard all the stories from generations.”

  “Yeah, I heard ‘em.” He had heard them. He just hadn’t believed it had all happened that fast until he’d seen Kaitlyn shiver when it had started hailing. God, that had all but done him in. But was this it? Is this the way it all worked out? The insanity of it was absurd. You didn’t just pick a girl up off the side of the road after she rams into your hitch, throw her over your shoulder, and carry her off to your cave. What the hell? Camden meant cattle rancher not cave-man. When he found himself regretting that momentarily, he called himself an asshole.

  “You know your great-granddaddy Miller never did like me too much.”

  “Oh yeah? He mad at’cha for taking Gran out to the ranch?”

  “He was mad at the world, Grant, for all it had taken from him, and I was a convenient target. People full of spite are always fighting a war within themselves, and they’ll go to battle with anyone they see as trying to take more from them than they think they should have to give.”

  “Uh, I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Kaitlyn’s timid voice quaked through the fire-lit room. She had Grant’s attention as soon as she appeared. “I … uh … I can’t …” she gestured to the back of the wet gown she was still in. “I can’t get the buttons undone,” flew from her tongue in a jumble of shame. Her eyes closed in abject defeat.

  “Sweet Jesus,” hissed from between Grant’s teeth. He was on his feet in the next heartbeat.

  “Boy, you have clearly been living right,” Granddaddy Camden was quick to point through his quiet laughter.

  Still trying to curb his caveman desires for no other reason than to prove to himself that he could and that the Camden code of falling in love at first sight was nothing but bullshit, Grant cinched his fists to keep from hastening Kaitlyn down the hallway to the guest room.

  She seemed half-terrified and every struggled step she made was smaller than the one before. Impatience surged through his blood until he forced himself to really focus on her. The fear in her eyes jerked his thoughts out of the head below his belt upwards to somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. God, she really had been through hell. When she’d woken up that morning, she surely hadn’t imagined that some guy she’d only just met would be the one stripping her out of her wedding gown.

  Easing the door closed in an effort to preserve what dignity she might’ve managed to cling to, he swallowed down another round of ardent desire and offered her a consolatory grin.

  “Hey, I know this can’t be the way you thought this would all go down. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry you have to undress me?” Ire struck her tone.

  “Oh, God, no. That ain’t at all what I meant. I just figured you didn’t want me to be the one doing this.”

  “Better you than Seth.” Her jaw tensed. A spark of fire flared in her cool blue eyes, fiercer than all the candles lit in the room, but it was immediately doused with another round of fear.

  Her fists clenched at her sides. Determination resonated from her body to his as she narrowed her eyes. So she did have some spite in there somewhere. Good.

  Grant’s heart thundered in his chest, part of it desperate to find Seth and pound him into the ground the other half beating out its point – the Camden code of falling in love at first sight was in fact the way it worked. Dammit.

  “Just do me a favor. Please don’t lie to me. The last three years of my life have basically been a lie, and I can’t take it anymore. If you don’t want to undress me, be honest. I’ll figure out how to get this off some other way.”

  If he didn’t want to undress her, he’d have his head examined. No man in his right mind would begrudge revealing her all for himself. Obviously, she needed someone to show her just how gorgeous she was. Well, he was more than happy to be the man for the job.

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  The dress slid audibly along the carpeting as she made her hesitant turn. He should have gone for the first button. He told himself to only touch the fabric, but his hands hungered to know her skin. He simply didn’t possess enough strength to deny himself.

  His index finger slipped over the nape of her neck and slowly traced down the column of her spine until he begrudgingly encountered wet silk. Her slight shiver elicited a half-strangled grunt from the depths of his lungs.

  A quick breath escaped her as he worked until he’d loosed the first button from the loop that held it prisoner.

  “I ain’t the kind of man that lies about anything. Ever. Never seen the point. I always shoot straight.” He made it through two more buttons. His eyes drank in her shoulder blades and every inch of soft cool skin he encountered. When he’d opened another few, he eased his palm under the fabric in an effort to bring warmth to her skin, chilled from being wet, and to satisfy his own need to know her.

  A heady perfume of fresh cut strawberries with a hint of feminine nectar filled his lungs with every button he unfastened. Most delicious strawberry wine he’d ever smelled, and damn if he didn’t want a taste.

  Every muscle in his body was poised to take her, to claim her in some small way. He clung to a semblance of sanity. One of his brain cells managed to convince the oth
ers to at least act like a gentleman.

  Another shiver rocked through her when he reached her mid-back, revealing the delicate arch of her spine. His mind instantly registered that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Sexy little minx, the picture of virtue in the white gown, had a sinful side. He’d suspected as much and here was his proof.

  Seth was not only a douche—he was a dumbass. He’d thrown away what he had. Women like this sure as hell weren’t a dime a dozen.

  She clung to the bodice of the dress, keeping her breasts covered and the dress from falling. His eyes eagerly sought the last button in an effort to see if she’d forgone panties as well as a bra.

  “Thank you for doing this. I know it’s probably not exactly what you had on the agenda for the day.”

  Truth be told, he couldn’t recall any other time in his life that he’d taken a dress off a woman without the intent of bedding them. As he revealed the hollow at the base of her spine and a pair of perfect dimples playing peek a boo under a pair of white lacey panties, he decided this wasn’t any different. The bedding her part would just have to come later, when she was more sure of herself. But he did know a thing or two about women.

  God knew he’d been with more than his fair share. God also knew what He was doing when he made the fairer sex. Grant loved everything there was to do with sex. Loved the flirting, the banter, the dancing, the kissing, the teasing, the touching; whatever it took to access the wild, carnal desires that would make a woman fly in his arms. None of the other women he’d had in his life or in his bed had ever mattered as much as she did at that moment, however.

  He shook off the fear of that realization and focused on what he did know. Their gorgeous bodies would speak on their behalf if they trusted you, and there was nothing more beautiful than a highly satisfied female. One quick way to restore a little of a woman’s confidence—show them how fucking much they turned you on.

  Wrapping his right hand around her, he braced her abdomen and drew her back against him. “Trust me, sugar. The pleasure is all mine.” He rocked his hips forward to make his point. He was harder than a steel pipe. Hell, he’d been sporting a semi since the moment he’d wrapped his arms around her standing by her totaled car. He let his denim-covered erection dig into the skin of her back. Through a fucking tornado, he’d still longed for her. Had to be something to that, and she needed to know the kind of power she held.

  She whipped around to face him. Heat clung to her cheeks. Her lips were slightly swollen, the shade of an early raspberry, and they looked distinctly kissable. When her tongue darted out to lick them, he all but moaned.

  If the dress slipped a half of a centimeter, he could have seen her nipples. Known their lush color, their size, how they tightened and puckered, every auxiliary bump that he could soothe with the heat of his mouth, and just how turned on she was currently. He caught himself praying for an earthquake after the tornado to shake the gown loose.

  A harsh swallow contracted her neck. He longed to suck and mark the delicate skin there, and damn if he didn’t want to see the round feminine globes of her ass. The dress damn near framed it for his eyes, but he wanted to feel, to massage, to kiss, lick, bite—and spank if she was in the mood.

  An intoxicating form of timid innocence was penned in every lush curve of her body. She put on airs of being a lights-out, missionary, once-a-week out of obligation kind of girl. Maybe that’s who she’d been with Seth. He hadn’t even deserved that. But that sure as hell wasn’t who she was. No, the wildfire that had finally sprung to a full blaze in her eyes and the fact she’d forgone a bra on her wedding day told an entirely different story.

  Grant liked his sex with more than an edge of submission from whomever he was bedding mixed up with some naughty kink, and preferred a woman who only showed off her dirty side all for him. They all had one. You just had to be a man worth your salt to get them to reveal it, and damn if Kaitlyn Sommerville didn’t have all the makings of being the entire package all wrapped up in a white bow, currently.

  Sweet, beautiful, kind, seemed smart too, with a hearty dose of spunk that it would have taken to run out on a cheating asshole just in time, and sexy as sin on a Sunday. He was done for, and he knew it. Just didn’t quite know how to explain to her that generations of men in his family had a habit of laying eyes on a woman, often by way of some kind of mishap, and then falling head over boots in love with them.

  Her eyes glimmered in challenge and a mischievous grin played on her lush lips. “Little forward, aren’tcha?” she sassed. “I appreciate your honesty there, cowboy, but I just left a guy at the altar. Not sure now is the time for me to be … saluted.” She gestured his head to his package still on full display.

  Damn it all to hell and back. He’d let his granddaddy and the shit stories about Camden men get in his head. What was he thinking? He’d been right all along. You couldn’t just up and decide some girl was going to be your one and only. She did have some say in the matter. More than likely he’d just fucked up the possibility of ever fucking her. Disappointment took a vicious blow to his gut.

  Shaking off the rebuke she’d levied, he doubled down in typical cowboy fashion. “I could apologize, but I just told you I hadn’t ever seen the point in lying, and I ain’t even a little bit sorry about being a man. You’re beautiful. Don’t let that douchebag fiancé of yours get in your head. He don’t deserve your thoughts.” With that, he forced his feet to retreat. He had to order every step he made to avoid yet another trip up. One quick drop of her fingers and the gown would hit the floor. His work was done, for now. If she wanted more, the gate was open. He had to play it cool. Stop acting like a green plowboy out on his first row.

  “Don’t apologize,” she managed just as he reached the door. His heart thundered out its relief. “As ridiculous as it makes me, you pretty much just made my day, Grant Camden.”

  “Ain’t a single thing about you that’s ridiculous. Now get dressed ‘fore I lose the ability to keep from ripping the dress outta your hands and doing several other things to show you exactly how stunning you are and precisely what your gorgeous little body was made for.”

  Okay, so he was coming on a little strong. Nothing wrong with that, necessarily. He knew what he wanted. No harm in going after it. Maybe he just needed to play it with a little more consideration. She had just left some asshat at the altar. Maybe he needed to prove he was worthy of her time and her body.

  No. Come back and show me. Please. Her mind pleaded with his retreating form. He filled the entire doorframe with muscle and might, and then disappeared down the hallway. The feeling of him hard and hungry all for her sizzled up her spine. Her body heated until her previously freezing-cold, clammy skin was fevered.

  A wave of guilt and panic washed away the sensation almost as soon as she’d allowed it to take hold. Thinking about sleeping with Grant, heck, all but begging him to go on with it, constituted cheating on Seth, didn’t it? Even considering kissing him somehow felt wrong.

  He cheated first. Her mind was quick to remind her. Did she owe him an official breakup before she considered the cowboy who’d undone her dress and her inhibitions? Could you get more official than leaving someone at the altar?

  Another wave of shame slammed through her over the pain she’d inevitably caused and what people must’ve said or were undoubtedly still saying. Staring longingly at the bed in the room, she wished she had time for a good cry. Currently there wasn’t even electricity to watch a tearjerker movie.

  For now, she had to buck up and follow her passion just like Nana had said, and if that meant getting Grant Camden to show off his readily-apparent skills then so be it. Seth had Kelsey to lick his wounds, if he even cared at all. If he’d cared, he wouldn’t have cheated on her, right? The guilt and confusion were unrelenting. Bile swirled in her stomach. Unable to access any reasoning that soothed her tattered nerves, she turned her thoughts back to Grant and her heart steadied.

  Grant Camden positively oozed sex appeal. Kindness exuded fro
m the brim of his hat right down to the tips of his boots, but there was so much more to him. There’d been an intoxicating dark heat in his gorgeous, green eyes when she’d spun out of his arms and away from his hard on. She’d felt his raw hunger in his breath when it whispered over her shoulders. The way he kept staring at her lips. The rough calluses on his fingertips that had to have come from years of hard work as they caressed her tender skin. The fire in his eyes had all but burned away the rest of her dress.

  Most of her had wanted him to jerk her back into his arms and kiss the hell out of her, to take possession of her body. His obvious craving to do just that had been more than apparent. Heck, he’d shown it off loud and proud.

  She’d been handled with kid gloves her entire life. No one thought her capable of handling anything at all. To her parents and most everyone in Lincoln, her inability to hear properly seemed to mean that she was incapable of having normal human needs. To Seth, she was too stupid and clumsy to bother with.

  Well, she wasn’t a china doll. She wasn’t going to shatter on impact. She’d just walked out from her own wedding because Seth was—what had Grant called him—a douche. Yes, that’s it. She’d had guts enough to walk away. She certainly had guts enough to take what she wanted from her rescuing cowboy, someone who had no idea she couldn’t hear properly.

  What she wouldn’t give for a night or two with him. She was beyond certain he could skillfully show her the ins and outs of rough passionate sex, the kind that left love notes visibly in her skin from his teeth and his hands, the kind where she felt his occupation for days after it was over, the kind she found herself wanting more and more with each passing moment.

  Heat shimmered over her flesh on a southbound journey down her body. Images of herself on her knees before Grant Camden with her hands bound behind her back blended readily in with thoughts of his low bass drawl demanding that she take more of him in her mouth. Fire sparked low in her belly, a fire she was fairly certain was going to become an inferno if she didn’t find someone to help her douse her eager desires … soon.