Down Home Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  That was when his control snapped. He moved his hands, gripping her rear tightly as he bucked up all the way inside of her. So deep it was difficult to tell where he ended and she began. So deep it could never be called anything but a possession. That should bother her. It should scare her. Because she had been a man’s possession. In the basest and most terrible way that could be applied. A thing to be hurt, a thing to be used. But this felt different. And she had no idea how it could.

  Something about it took her breath away, the depths, the beauty of it. It made tears prick at the backs of her eyes, and she hated it. Hated it almost as much as she needed it. She couldn’t turn away from it. Couldn’t stop him, not now. Even as panic tumbled through her like an avalanche. Oh, not because she was afraid of him. Not because she thought he would misuse her. But because it wrenched the lid off an empty well inside of her she hadn’t known existed. And now that she knew it was there she wanted it to be filled. With him. Forever.

  Now that she knew it was there, she could only ache at the realization of the emptiness. The profound hollowness that extended so deep and wide inside her. And she couldn’t escape the sense that he might be the only one that stood a chance at filling it.

  She screwed her eyes shut tight. No. You’re supposed to fill it. You know better than this. You do. She took a deep breath, steeling herself against all that emotion that was rolling around in her chest.

  She tried to focus on the feeling. On the physical. The physical that had rocked her from the first moment she had seen him. That had awakened all those places in her body that had been asleep for so long. But she feared now he had awoken something else, and she had no idea how she would ever forget it was there now that she had become so aware of it. But she would try. Yes, she would try.

  She focused on the strength of his grip, on the shift and bunch of his muscles beneath her fingertips. The short, sharp growl he made in her ear as he drew closer to his release. The hard, thick heat of him filling her with each and every thrust. And the way it drove her closer to release, the way it ratcheted up all the tension inside of her to near unbearable levels.

  And when her release washed over her, it was easy to forget anything but that present moment. But the blinding, intense pleasure that lit every nerve ending inside of her on fire. He had turned her into a creature of need, and only he could satisfy his creation.

  Later, that thought would disturb her. But right now, there was nothing but his hot skin beneath her palms, his hard muscles tensing beneath her touch. His big body spasming as he found his own release.

  When they finished, there was no sound except the fractured breathing echoing in the half-constructed space. She realized then that anyone could have walked in at any time. Neither of them had even thought of locking up. She didn’t even care. If she could go back and change it, she wouldn’t. Because if either of them had thought with clarity even for a moment, they might not have ended up making love against a wall.

  And she was really glad they had.

  “So much for it being over,” he said, his voice rough. He reached out, brushing his hand over her cheek, sifting his fingers through her hair. He didn’t sound overly regretful. Which was good, because she wasn’t either. Resigned. He sounded resigned. Not exactly overjoyed, but she would take it.

  “I guess so,” she said, letting herself lean against him for a moment. Letting herself take a deep breath, inhaling his masculine scent.

  “We’re breaking rules all over the place tonight. This was supposed to be done. And it was supposed to be simple. I wasn’t supposed to wonder about you,” he said, those green eyes looking into hers intently. “But I do. Tell me, Alison.” A crease appeared in the center of his eyebrows, his gaze sharpening. “Tell me about your ex-husband.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CAIN REALIZED ALMOST immediately that he had made a mistake in issuing that command. But it didn’t change the fact that he wanted answers. She had called her ex-husband a monster and he wanted the details. Felt compelled to seek them out. This was the first time he had ever wanted to push somebody for information about their life. It was one of those things that had always seemed like a tit-for-tat situation. He was not a tit-for-tat kind of guy.

  But he wanted to understand her, this woman who had crashed into his life and reduced his control to rubble. Wanted to understand more about this woman that made him want things he had never wanted before. Who made him want to know things. She was the one who had created the need in him, after all. So, shouldn’t she be the one to satisfy it?

  “You don’t want to talk about this right now,” she said, twisting to the side, moving away from him and pulling her jeans back up into place.

  She bent down, seeking out her T-shirt and tugging it on too quickly for his taste. He regretted that he hadn’t gotten her completely naked this time. She had apologized for the padded bra last time they were together. But he honestly didn’t care. He liked them bare. He liked the illusion beneath her clothes of slightly larger breasts too; really, he just liked them.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m pretty sure that I do want to talk about it, which is why I brought it up.” He shifted his stance, pulling his own pants back into place. “I think you might be the one who doesn’t want to talk about it, Alison. Which is okay, but don’t tell me what I want.”

  “You just finished having sex with me up against the wall. And you want to talk about my ex-husband? The last man that I slept with?”

  “We’ve spent an awful lot of time talking about my past.”

  “Because I’ve been trying to help you deal with the present problem. Jared has nothing to do with any of this.”

  “Jared.” He tested the name out. Decided he didn’t like it.

  “Yes. And I don’t like to talk about him.”

  “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

  “The entire point of all of this is that we don’t know each other,” Alison said. “Muddying the waters by... You know, getting to know each other, seems like a bad idea.”

  “Maybe it’s a good thing. Because we aren’t looking for permanent connection. Tell me whatever you want about him. You don’t have to be fair, you don’t have to be measured, and all that other stuff that we try to do when we talk to people about past relationships. You can tell me things that you haven’t told anyone else.” He shrugged. “Because in the end, it won’t matter. It will be like you told your secrets to that wall you accused me of being.”

  She shook her head, pushing her fingers through her hair and laughing a little bit. “No. Because it will change the way that you see me. And that’s going to ruin what we have.” She gestured widely between the space that separated them. “And I need to feel like a woman again, Cain. I need it so badly. You have no idea what being with you, without brakes, without you acting like I need to be coddled, means to me.”

  “So tell me what it means to you,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. He wanted to go to her, wanted to comfort her. But, considering he was pushing the communication thing, he figured he should maybe hold off on the physical contact.

  It was all a little bit much. All a little close to relationship stuff.

  “Do you know the worst part about living in a small town?” She turned to face him, forcing her lips to turn upward. “I’m going to tell you. Everybody knows who you are and what happened to you without you telling them. Because somebody has. Especially if you have an interesting backstory.” She shook her head. “They know their own version anyway. And they have their own opinions on where you were wrong, and where you were right.”

  “I imagine that gets claustrophobic after a while. But I suppose if it’s unbearable you could always leave.” She hadn’t. That much was obvious. It made him wonder why.

  She didn’t leave him in suspense. “Yes. But, then... You don’t get a chance
to change the story.”

  “And that’s what you’re doing. You’re changing your story.”

  She crossed her arms, holding her midsection tightly, as if she was afraid she was going to fly apart. “Yes. Because I would rather be Alison Davis, owner of Pie in the Sky, supporter of women, good friend, good neighbor, than Alison Davis, beaten wife.” She looked away from him, her throat working, her cheeks pale. “And I never wanted to be that to you.” Then, she turned to face him again, her eyes shining bright. “But now I will be. He abused me. My husband abused me.”

  Those words made Cain feel hollowed-out, like she had reached inside of him and pulled out something essential, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what it might have been. Not his heart, because it was still beating in his chest, raging in fact.

  “What do you... How?” That was probably the worst question to possibly ask. How had he abused her? But he wanted to know. He had to know. Mostly because he felt murderous, and if he was going to kill a man he needed to know exactly what his crimes were.

  Alison closed her eyes. “I don’t like talking about this.” But then her eyes fluttered open and she took a deep breath and continued. “He seemed fine at first. Of course he did. And I was...desperate to have somebody in my life permanently. To have somebody that wanted me. My parents... I was such a disappointment to them. And because I knew I could never measure up I did my damnedest to be an even bigger disappointment, so that I could at least get some attention. But it was all just quiet disapproval. Cutting remarks that seemed small, but it didn’t take long for them to start burning all over. Whatever. I guess that’s just an excuse now. For why I was able to be fooled. For why I married him so quickly.” She frowned. “And why I stayed.”

  “You don’t have to justify a quick marriage to me,” he said. “Violet’s mother... It wasn’t like we had some epic courtship and decided we wanted to be together for the rest of our lives. She got pregnant. So we got married. Because it seemed like the right thing to do. Because it was something my father didn’t do. And I was going to be there for my kid. There. Don’t feel stupid about marrying him quickly. I’ve been there and done that.”

  “That’s a much less pathetic reason than just wanting someone to say they love you, even if they don’t act much like they do.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, and he didn’t press again. He didn’t say anything else.

  She was quiet for a few moments, then she continued. “It was all right for about a year. But things were stressful, and we never had any money. I got a job at the diner, and that helped. Still, he was working long hours at the mill and he was stressed. Stressed about finances, and it started with him saying awful things when he would get angry.” He could tell that she was telling him a very well-rehearsed story, that this was something she had told other people before. That she’d found a way to somehow detach herself from this explanation of events so that she could get through it. Her tone had taken on a flat, emotionless quality. He didn’t like it.

  It was kind of scary. As though the Alison that he knew had exited her body completely, and left behind was a hollow, mechanical version.

  “He started drinking more. The first night he hit me, I thought about leaving. If I had only left that night, Cain.” Her voice broke slightly, and that was how he could tell she had departed from the narrative, at least just for a moment. “If I’d left that first time I don’t think I ever would have come back. But I didn’t. Because I loved him, and him hitting me once didn’t make it go away. And then... After once turned into twice, after that turned into... Just being beaten. Worse than a dog. After that, it felt like if I left I would have endured all of that for nothing. If I just walked out, if it was that easy, then all of it was for nothing. All those years of my life for nothing. Then after that I just didn’t care. You wouldn’t know her, that woman.”

  She curled her fingers into fists, took a step away from him. “I hate her. She was so weak. She didn’t even know how to smile anymore. I used to be friends with Sadie Garrett in high school. And when she came back to town almost five years ago she came into the diner and she didn’t even recognize me because I looked so different. Not because I changed my hair or anything. Just because... At least back in high school I was rebellious. At least back then I had some spark of something. But by the time Sadie came back it was just gone. At a certain point Sheriff Garrett intervened—he had tried before, but I... I didn’t press charges. But my husband came after me in public, at a town barbecue and...it pushed me to do something. I actually followed through. I pressed charges. I left.”

  “Then she wasn’t weak,” Cain said, his voice rough. “You shouldn’t hate her so much. That woman that you were back then. She left. That’s not weak, that’s strong.”

  “I didn’t feel strong. I felt terrible. Sometimes I missed him,” she said. “You wanted to hear something that I hadn’t told anyone else. Well, that’s it. I can never admit that. Not to anybody. Because during the eight years I was married to him I forgot what my dreams were, I forgot who I was. I forgot that there could possibly be a future without him. Everything revolved around him. Around his moods, around his desires. It was all about him. And I didn’t know how to be me anymore. So, separating from that... It wasn’t fun. I didn’t like it. My life was just blank. It was nothing. And slowly, so slowly, it started to change. I quit the diner, I started working on getting the bakery open. I started helping other women like me. Women who are in that dark, terrible place where they’re starting over, and they need to, but they don’t like it yet.”

  She sighed heavily. “And now you’re looking at me like you think I might break. This is why I didn’t want you to know. Because I liked it when you backed me up against the wall in the pantry, because I like it when you touch me and it isn’t gentle. I don’t want you to start treating me like I’m made of glass because of this. I’m the same person, it’s just that you know about what happened to me.”

  It had changed things though. He was only just beginning to process the implications of it all. Because he had been too shocked, too utterly blinded by rage and a bone-deep sorrow that shook him to his core. To know that this woman, this brilliant, strong woman had ever been made to feel pain, fear...

  God help him, if he ever saw that ex-husband of hers he really might kill him.

  He was only just now beginning to build a relationship with his brothers, but he wondered if they were the sort that would help him hide a body. Alex would. He was pretty confident in that.

  She had also been concerned that it would make him see her differently. And she wasn’t wrong. Because it was difficult for him to imagine the strong woman who had had no difficulty going toe-to-toe with him from the moment they’d met ever cowering in fear beneath somebody’s fist.

  He clenched his teeth, pressing his fist against his forehead, trying to stem the anger that was pouring through him.

  “You want to know how I let it happen?” she asked, her voice small. “I can see that you’re trying to figure it out.”

  “No. You didn’t let anything happen.”

  “I stayed. I stayed for eight years.”

  “Don’t blame yourself for that bullshit. Ever. There is never... My wife left me. She left me, she left my child. My daughter is hurting deeply because of that woman, and I would never raise a hand to her. Violet is a walking trauma for me, and I would never raise my hand to her. You know who hits when they’re angry? Toddlers. Boys. No kind of man. Your ex-husband was no kind of man. I wouldn’t raise my fist to a woman, Alison, but I swear to God if I ever met him he’d sure as hell see who I would raise my fist to. Possibly raise a shotgun too.”

  She nodded slowly. “I know he was wrong. I do. But I also know that everybody always wonders how I could have stayed for that long. Not what I did to make him hit me, though my father asked that once.”

  He swore. “Nothing. You didn’
t do anything.”

  “I know,” she said again. “I really do. It’s been four years, and I’ve come through an awful lot. That doesn’t mean... I don’t even know why I stayed, Cain. It’s hard for me to figure out how it all happened that way. But in the end, I think it was just that slow breakdown that happened over the course of years, where I changed slowly, bit by bit, until I didn’t realize how much I had lost. How much of me was gone.”

  He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what the right words were to offer comfort. And that was when he realized comfort wasn’t what she was looking for. She wasn’t looking for anything from him. Not words, not validation of any kind. She had found that a long time ago, or she never would have been able to walk away like she had.

  It didn’t stop him from wanting to offer something all the same. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t be well received. Anyway, talking to people about things wasn’t his strong suit. Punching out the ex-husband, now that he could do. Building her something, fixing something, he could do that. But this stuff, standing here, when he had nothing in his hands, nothing to give, nothing to fix, he didn’t have a damn clue what to do in this kind of situation.

  He knew it wouldn’t help. He knew she might not like it, but even so, he took a step toward her and reached out, pressing his thumb against that little dent in her cheek just beside the corner of her lips. “You look like you’re all here to me.”

  Her forehead crumpled slightly, her eyes looking shiny. Then she tightened her lips and blinked, her expression going smooth again. “Thank you. It’s taken a long time to fill in all the holes, but I think I might finally be all here. That’s why it’s hard for me to explain all of this. Because all those rationalizations that I made back then seem so thin and transparent. I can see through that woman’s excuses. The reasons that she gave herself for why she had to stay. But she couldn’t.” She paused for a moment, and he could see her struggling to get the next words out. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t see through the excuses back then. I was too lost in it. Too beaten down. Not just physically, emotionally. It’s the emotional stuff that ultimately kills you. Because it’s the reason you stay. The fear, the loss of yourself, the feeling that it doesn’t matter what happens to you... That’s the thing that gets you in the end.”