Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders)

by Lorelei James

  “Yes, deputy?”

  Cam scowled. “I’m not on duty. I’m here on a rare night out with my wife, so dealing with this hothead wasn’t part of my plan. Goddammit, Dalton, when are you gonna learn fighting ain’t the answer?”

  “Already learned it. I don’t do this anymore.”

  “Then what was this tonight?”

  “A warning. That fucker doesn’t get to put his hands on her, or his mouth on her. Ever.”

  Dalton still didn’t look at her.

  “If I let go of you, you’ll go after him again?” Cam asked.

  “Most likely.”

  “Fuck that. I’m taking you outside to cool you off.”

  Dalton shook his head. “I’m not leavin’ Rory in here with him.”

  “Dalton. I can take care of myself. It was all a misunderstanding—”

  Then he was in her face. “Don’t defend him. I don’t give a shit what he was to you once; he’s not that to you anymore. He has no rights to you. All those rights belong to me now.”

  “Omigod. Like I’m a piece of fucking property?”

  Cam grabbed Dalton’s arm. “Not kiddin’. Outside. Now.” To Rory he said, “We’ll be waiting for you.”

  Dalton snarled something but Cam got him moving.

  Rory didn’t move toward Dillon until she knew Dalton was out the door. The bouncers left them alone.

  Dillon was still mopping blood from beneath his nose. His right eye had swelled. Knuckle-shaped marks dotted the left side of his jaw. He’d bruise, most likely. His shirt was untucked and ripped. Yeah, he didn’t look so put together anymore.

  He spoke first. “You could’ve mentioned you were seeing a fucking psycho.”

  “He was supposed to be out of town.”

  “Like that’s an excuse. Next you’ll tell me the two of you had a big fight.”

  Her life was one big cliché. “Yeah, we did. He’s the jealous type.”

  “How long have you been with him?”

  “I’ve known him since I was six. He almost married my best friend and we lost track of each other after that.”

  “Now you’re both living back here,” he stated flatly.

  “So it appears.”

  “Don’t give me that coyness. I’m bleeding, beat up and really pissed off at myself for coming here. So at least tell me if you’ve always been in love with him.”

  Rory stared at him like he’d just said the most idiotic thing on the planet.

  Dillon pressed his point. “I get it. Star-crossed lovers or something. Been in love with him since you were six. He broke your heart, or you broke his. You couldn’t have him so you settled for me, a guy who kind of looks like him.”

  After seeing them together the only similarity between them was they were both men.

  “Psycho-cowboy and I have more than a passing resemblance to each other, Rory. And don’t think he didn’t notice it too as he was punching me in the face.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Dil.”

  “How about goodbye? Because I finally understand that we’re done. I also finally understand why you’re willing to stay in a shitty-paying, low-level state job.”

  “Dalton has nothing to do with that. I didn’t even know where he lived when I took the job with the WNRC.”

  Dillon squinted at her. “One thing I did learn by coming here? You’re right. We didn’t know each other. Because the Rory I thought I knew? She would’ve already filled out the applications for the positions with the Wyoming State Parks and she’d be the first in line to apply for the BLM position. The Rory I knew was ambitious, planning for a career and not just settling for a job. Your skills are being wasted at the WNRC. We both know it. So I hope he’s worth it.”

  Rory lifted her chin. “I guess we’ll see if he thinks I’m worth it, because I am applying for those jobs, Dillon. All of them.”

  A calculating smile stretched across his face. “Good. Now get away from me before he comes looking for you and finds you talking to me.”

  She grabbed her purse and coat and exited through the employee entrance.

  Coming around the corner, she saw Dalton pacing and Cam resting against the side of the pickup. Air puffed out of Dalton’s mouth with every step. He reminded her of one of those cartoon bulls—not that she’d voice the comparison.

  The soles of her shoes scuffed on the gravel and they both turned around.

  Then Dalton was on her, his big hands gripping her biceps. “What the fuck is goin’ on, Rory? I’m out of town two fucking days and I get a phone call from Busby, who says you’re out with another guy? A guy who I find out just happens to be your former fiancé?”

  “He asked me to dinner. I accepted. We have a history, Dalton, whether or not you like it.”

  “I don’t like it. Not at fucking all. Why didn’t you tell him about us?”

  How was she supposed to answer that?

  Dalton’s hands fell away.

  The hurt on his face sliced through her like an ax.

  “I can’t…do this right now.” Without another word he climbed in his truck and burned rubber getting away from her.

  Cam stood beside her. “It’s best to let him cool off.”

  “Says you. I’m giving him a five-minute head start, then I’m going after him. I caused this, I will cowgirl up and deal with it and with him.”

  Cam said nothing.

  “Thank you for stepping in. It would’ve been easier to ignore it.”

  “He’s my cousin, Rory. I’d never ignore him and turn my back on him when he’s hurtin’. I know what that’s like.”

  “Then you understand that I won’t leave him alone when he’s hurting and caught in my mess.”

  Cam sighed. “I’ve broken up more of his fights than I care to admit to. I’ve seen him drunk, belligerent, broken and pissed off. I’ve never seen him on edge like this. So I gotta ask if you’re sure you can handle him?”

  “Dalton won’t hurt me.” He’d been hurt in anger too many times in his life to do it to someone else. “Go in and enjoy the rest of the night with your wife.”

  Rory got in her car and drove to his house to face the music.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  If Dalton needed to replace the Sheetrock in the living room, he might’ve put his fist through the wall. Instead, he paced. Beyond angry with himself. With Rory. With the whole fucking situation.

  Since he’d left Wyoming, he avoided barroom brawling. Yet, after seeing that cocksucker kissing Rory, there he was, fists leading the way. He rubbed his jaw. Guaranteed he’d feel the aches and pains come morning.

  He’d hear about the stupidity of his public display from his brothers too. They’d railed on him about his fighting ways the last two years he lived in Sundance. He hadn’t been trying to prove anything; but there’d been a whole slew of guys angling for bragging rights for kicking the shit out of a McKay.

  So yeah, he’d lost more fights than he’d won, simply because he’d been in more fights than his brothers and cousins.

  And of course one of his cousins had to be around when he lost control—and of course that cousin had to be Cam. Then again, Dalton had expected more grief from the deputy. The usual, pull your head out of your ass and quit being a little shit lecture he’d gotten umpteen times.

  But Cam had removed him from the situation and that was it.

  Dalton hated he wouldn’t have known about the situation if not for Busby’s drunken phone call warning him that Rory was out with another guy.

  Come to find out it wasn’t just any guy. But her ex-fiancé.

  He stalked to the fridge and grabbed the orange juice, drinking straight from the carton. Whenever he wanted whiskey, or felt he needed whiskey, he thought of how Casper acted under the influence. That immediately cut the craving for booze.

  He stared out the dining room window, wishing he had a pile of logs to split and stack. Every muscle in his body straining as he swung the ax. Feeling the physical vibration racing u
p his arms as the blade connected with the wood. Hearing the satisfying crack as force altered a solid object into pieces. Nothing was more satisfying.

  Well, nothing except for raw, down-and-dirty sex.

  That’s when three loud raps sounded on his door.

  Go the fuck away.

  “Dammit, Dalton. I know you’re in there. I’m not leaving so you may as well open the door.”

  He didn’t rush over; he prepped himself for the best way to send Rory on her merry way.

  “I know you don’t lock your door so you either let me in or I’ll barge in.”

  He opened the door.

  Rory stared at him for several long seconds before she said, “Let me in.”

  “What do you want?”

  “To talk.”

  “Not in the mood.” He rested his forearm above his head on the doorjamb, essentially blocking her. “Go home, Rory.”

  Her gaze moved to his throat. “Is that a bruise?”

  “Probably.”

  She lifted her hand to touch his face and he flinched. “Not kidding. Go home. You don’t wanna be around me now.”

  “Or is it that you don’t wanna be around me?” she countered. “Because tough shit. I’m not leaving.”

  Dalton leaned forward until they were nose to nose. “Don’t fucking push me.”

  “Don’t fucking push me away.”

  “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.”

  “Let me in, Dalton.”

  “You tough enough to walk through this door?” he taunted. “Because if you do, I’m not letting you leave until we work this out. And we’ll work it out my way.”

  Rory turned her face from his; he half-expected she’d take the out he’d offered. But she pressed her warm mouth to the bruised spot on his throat. Then she whispered, “Yes, I’m tough enough. But you already know that, don’t you?”

  God. He was so fucking insanely in love with this woman. Curling his left hand around her nape, he consumed her mouth. No sweet start that gradually morphed into passion. Dalton took her mouth like he wanted to take her. Hard and fast, with an almost brutal possession.

  She wrapped herself around him, kissing him with hunger.

  When the kiss grew even more intense, he jerked her inside and kicked the door shut. He stripped off her coat and herded her toward the bedroom.

  What are you doing? Sex is not the solution. She’ll fuck you and walk away and nothing will get resolved.

  Dalton released her and stepped back. “No.”

  Rory looked confused. “No what?”

  “No we’re not doin’ this. You wanted to talk. So talk.”

  “But…”

  He brushed past her and skirted the breakfast bar. He stopped in the kitchen and grabbed the orange juice carton. “Talk.”

  “Dil showed up at my office today on state business.”

  “Bullshit. He either lied to you or you’re lyin’ to me, so which is it?”

  She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “He said it was personal so no one in the office would know he wanted to talk business with me over dinner.”

  Dalton laughed snidely. “So when Dildo had his hands on you and his tongue down your throat—that was part of the plan to fool your boss? Give me a fucking break.”

  Rory slammed her hands on the countertop. “Will you let me explain? Or do you have it all worked out?”

  “Just like you had it all worked out when you stormed in here and laid out your theories as facts that I used you and lied to you? Not only about the application for the elk farm permit but about my real reasons for starting a goddamned relationship with you?”

  That shut her down for a second. But she rallied back with, “Fine, I was an idiot, all right? Is that what you wanna hear?”

  “I wanna hear why the fuck you spent all this time talkin’ to your ex-fiancé and he knew nothin’ about me. Or us. Because I’m nothin’ to you, is that it?”

  “No. That’s not true, Dalton and you know it.”

  “That’s the thing Rory, I don’t know it.”

  She stared at him with guilt, shock and embarrassment.

  Dalton hated he was still on such shaky ground with her. Would she ever believe he’d changed? What else could he do to convince her?

  Rory blurted, “After our business discussion ended, he started saying all this ridiculous stuff about our broken engagement, regretting that he let me walk away without a fight. He said he wanted to try and win me back.”

  Dalton couldn’t stop the snarl that accompanied, “The hell that’s ever happening.”

  “By that time, I wanted to leave but I told him we’d listen to the band. He asked me to dance and then he kissed me.” Her gaze scrutinized his face. “You were there. You know I wasn’t kissing him back.”

  “Alls I know is that I saw his hands on you and I wanted to rip them clean off his body.”

  “You nearly succeeded.”

  “Apparently not, because that motherfucker got in his licks.” Dalton took a long drink of juice.

  “I know something else is eating at you. So just say it.”

  “I also noticed that he and I…” He paused and watched her eyes. Even after all his attempts at showing her that he was around for the long haul, she still acted so wary. “We look alike.” He started toward her and she immediately retreated. “He’s tall. He’s got dark hair. Probably has blue eyes. And he’s totally fucking in love with you. Willing to fight for you. Remind you of someone else you might know?”

  “This isn’t—”

  “Answer. Me.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say. Just stop. Please.”

  No way. He’d come this far. “So is it a coincidence that I look like the man you almost married? Be hard to tell us apart in a dark bar, wouldn’t it?”

  “No.”

  “What about in a dark room, Rory? When you were with me could you pretend I was—”

  “Stop it. I haven’t been with you because you reminded me of Dillon.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure, all right? I was with him because at first, on the surface, he reminded me of you. But there’s no comparison, Dalton. None. You’re ten times the man he is.”

  A few beats of stunned silence passed as he waited for her to elaborate or to confess she felt something more for him than she ever had for Dildo. But her mouth remained stubbornly closed.

  So Dalton kissed her.

  Passion, desire, need exploded—a melee of hungry mouths, frantic hands, avid bodies, harsh breathing and harsher kisses.

  Dalton wanted to pin her down and fuck the memory of every other man out of her brain and out her body. Imprint himself on her, in her so she’d feel him as part of her even when he wasn’t around. Mark her with his mouth, his teeth, his goddamn hands so she’d see those marks and remember only him.

  Rory dug her nails into the back of his neck. Then her hands moved down his chest, over his ribcage, across his belly, stopping at the waistband of his jeans. She nuzzled him, scattering kisses, nips and tiny licks on the cords straining in his neck. “Let me show you. Any way you want. Tell me what you want.”

  “This.” Dalton pushed on her shoulders and she dropped to her knees. Her hands unbuckling his belt, unzipping his fly and opening his jeans. Then she yanked his boxers and jeans down, freeing his cock.

  Her mouth, her goddamned mouth, so hot and wet and perfect; she destroyed him every time she sucked his cock like she was starving for it.

  Well she was gonna get it all and then some tonight.

  Rory worked him fast. Driving him to the point where his balls tightened, where he was more animal than man, teetering in that moment when he was so fucking close to coming he could taste it.

  He yanked harder on her hair. He squeezed his fingers against the side of her face, digging his thumb deeper into her neck, holding her in place as he fucked her mouth exactly as hard and deep as he wanted.

  Almost, almost…he glanced down at he
r face and saw his hand fisting her hair so strongly it pulled her scalp. Saw the red mark on her cheek from his palm. Then he saw how she squeezed her eyes—in pain?—every time his dick hit the back of her throat.

  You’re hurting her. You’re punishing her with sex.

  Is that how you treat the woman you love—as a vessel to pour your anger and frustration into?

  No. Goddammit no.

  Horrified, Dalton abruptly pulled her off his cock and held her head in his hands. “Stop.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This.”

  “Dalton—”

  “Not like this. Never like this.” He shaped her beautiful face with his fingers. “I never want to touch you when I’m angry, Aurora. Never.”

  She looked confused. “I don’t understand you.”

  “I don’t understand myself sometimes. But this…isn’t right.” Dalton helped her to her feet and yanked up his clothing.

  Then he took her hand and led her to his bedroom.

  She was still breathing hard. Wariness darkened her eyes.

  He stripped first. As he stood naked before her, his rush of masculine power had vanished, leaving him feeling vulnerable.

  “Dalton,” she whispered, trapping his face in her hands, “Talk to me.”

  “I love you.”

  Rory blinked at him.

  “I love you and the thought of losing you, of you walking away from me because I’m not the man you want…makes me crazy. It keeps me up at night. I’ve changed. But have I changed enough so you believe—”

  She kissed him. “You are the man I want. Just you. I’m here with you and there’s no place I’d rather be.”

  He traced her swollen lips with the pad of his thumb. “I was rough. I’m sorry.”

  “Then you’d better kiss it and make it better, huh?”

  Dalton kissed her. Touched her. Showed her.

  She responded in that sweet melting way she always did, giving herself over to him completely.

  After he’d removed her clothes and they were stretched out on his bed, skin to skin, heart to heart, he said, “You’re mine, jungle girl. Only ever mine. I’m never letting you get away from me again.”

  Her satisfied moans rang in his ears as he showed her twice just how much he loved her.