The One You Want (Original Heartbreakers)

by Gena Showalter

  “Uncle Dane is not a stranger,” Norrie said to Jessie Kay. “Do you think he could have luncher with us?”

  Luncher?

  Jessie Kay gave him a once-over, saying, “Luncher is a combo of lunch and dinner. Too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. Trademark pending. Now, what are you doing here?”

  “Uncle Dane is going to cook for us,” Norrie announced.

  Um, never. “Is Kenna here?” he asked, focusing on Jessie Kay.

  “She had to go to her school and talk to her teacher,” Norrie piped up, “because it’s important to keep open lines of communization even when xasperating men won’t respond to your thousands of emails.”

  “Communication,” Jessie Kay said, correcting her. “Exasperating.”

  Norrie threw her arms up. “That’s what I said. Anyway.” She rolled her eyes, and Dane had to fight a grin. Really not getting embroiled with her. “Momma will be back at three, she promised, and we’re gonna go pet Sara Lambert’s puppies. Sara didn’t have the puppies, because no one gave her any of that special seed, and she’s too young, but her dog, Muffin, did have the puppies. But I can’t have one ’cause—”

  “Dude,” Jessie Kay said, shaking her head, “you’ve gotta learn when to stop.”

  Good advice. “I’ll come back later,” Dane said, backing away.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Jessie Kay grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Yes,” she said to the little girl. “Uncle Dane is going to cook our luncher.”

  The little girl jumped up and down, clapping.

  “No. No, I’m not,” he said.

  Norrie stilled, tears filling her eyes. “You’re really not?”

  Oh...damn. “I...am?”

  “Great. You two have fun. I’ll be watching TV in the living room if anyone needs me.” Jessie Kay smirked at him before walking away and plopping on the couch.

  What was her game?

  What did it matter? He tried not to panic. What if the kid cried? What was he supposed to do? At what age did kids stop wearing diapers?

  This was going to be a disaster.

  “Come on,” the girl said, taking his hand. Hers was small, delicate.

  She led him into the kitchen, moving so fast he was only able to glance at his surroundings. But a glance was enough. The home was small and run-down, with old paint peeling on the walls and holes in the carpet. Scuffed furniture.

  Kenna and her roommates had clearly done their best to make the place as attractive as possible because there were feminine touches everywhere. A drape of sheer cloth over a lamp. A vase overflowing with fresh flowers. A bowl of fruit. A pink blanket cascading over the arm of the couch.

  Norrie sat at a yellow laminate counter and folded her hands together, waiting patiently. He relaxed when he realized the home’s open concept gave Jessie Kay a clear view of the kid.

  “What are you hungry for?” he asked.

  She hooked a hank of red hair behind her ear. “Can you make a cheese pizza?”

  He looked in the fridge but didn’t see more than a gallon of milk, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter and maybe ten thousand packages of cheese. No tomato sauce. No ready-made crusts. The freezer had boxes of pizza ready to be thawed, but they didn’t look appetizing.

  “How about I order one?” he suggested.

  “Even better. The number is on the wall.”

  He placed the order, and though the Tomato Shack didn’t deliver, he offered the teenager on the other end two hundred dollars, all the cash currently in his wallet, to make it happen. As he waited, he walked around the kitchen looking through semibare cabinets, tightening knobs, lighting the pilot light on the stove, fixing a squeaky hinge on the oven door and messing with the leaky pipes under the sink. There was a somewhat awkward silence between Norrie and him, but better that than conversation.

  Of course, she just had to speak up then. “My momma says we don’t need a man to do our chores for us, ’cause we are smart and capable and I believe her even though Sara’s mom says men were born to be our slaves, we just have to know how to manage them.”

  “Sara’s mom is an idiot.”

  Norrie gasped. “You said the I-word.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Real bad. Get-grounded-for-a-month bad.”

  Great. “Maybe don’t mention to your mom that I said it.”

  “I won’t. Because she heard you for herself. Momma! You’re home!”

  * * *

  KENNA CAUGHT HER daughter in her arms as Dane cursed and lifted his head out from under the sink. His hair was sexily rumpled and there was a streak of oil on his cheek.

  All of her girlie parts sizzled to instant life. He was here! And he was performing live-and-in-person girl porn—household tasks! “I didn’t expect to see you,” she said to Dane.

  “I’m going to my room,” Jessie Kay called. “Y’all do me a favor and argue loud enough so I can listen in without having to strain myself.”

  “If you want to listen,” Kenna called right back, “just stay in the living room.”

  “You know I’m not that rude.”

  “What are we going to argue about?” Norrie asked. “Uncle Dane saying the I-word?”

  He pulled at his collar and ignored the little girl. “I wanted to talk to you,” he said to Kenna, looking more uncomfortable than she’d ever seen him.

  Kenna realized she wasn’t upset that he’d introduced himself to Norrie. The introduction would have happened sooner or later, considering the upcoming wedding. But...she thought it was more than that. That she wanted to see him with her daughter...see how the two got along.

  Answer: not well. He wouldn’t even meet the girl’s gaze.

  The doorbell rang, saving her from having to think up a reply. Talk...about what? They’d said all they needed to say.

  “Pizza!” Norrie wiggled out of her arms.

  Pizza?

  Dane held up one finger and rushed to the door. He returned with—surprise, surprise—a pizza.

  “The Tomato Shack delivers now?” Kenna asked.

  “With the right incentive,” he muttered.

  Meaning money.

  While they ate, Norrie regaled Dane with stories about hair barrettes, dog poop and all the reasons sparkly unicorns just had to be real. Kenna had heard the stories before and faded in and out, trying to pretend Dane wasn’t in the room, looking edible.

  “Can we go now?” Norrie asked her.

  She didn’t have to ask where the girl was so eager to go. Sara’s house, to see the puppies. Kenna had been dreading this. Norrie would want one and beg, and Kenna would have to say no—always no—because they couldn’t afford to feed an animal. Not to mention the fact that they were rarely home.

  “Go get cleaned up first.”

  Norrie rushed off.

  “I don’t just mean stick your hands under the water,” Kenna called. “Use soap and then brush your teeth.”

  “Duh! I’m not a germ farm!”

  “She’s...unique,” Dane said.

  “In the best possible way,” Kenna snapped.

  He held up his arms. “I know. I wasn’t saying otherwise.”

  An awkward silence settled between them.

  “So...were you able to open lines of ‘communization’ with your professor?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, wondering what Norrie had told him. But she already knew the answer, didn’t she? Norrie had told him everything she knew.

  “Yes and no. I found out I had been dropped from my classes, so all the work I did was a waste.” Was that bitterness in her tone? Probably. It wasn’t her fault the financial aid had failed to come in on time.

  “Why were you dropped?”

  Unwilling to answer, she
waved the question away. “What did you want to talk to me about?” Then, “Before you answer that, I should probably warn you. I’m stressed and tired and not at my best. It might be better to postpone the ‘communization’ if you don’t feel like fighting.”

  “Take her up on the offer,” Jessie Kay called through the wall. “She’s nasty when she’s stressed.”

  Kenna banged on the wall, shouting, “No one asked your opinion, so zip it!”

  Jessie Kay’s reply was a triumphant, “See!”

  “We won’t fight,” Dane said, voice soft but confident. “I came here to apologize.”

  Kenna groaned. “Not this again.”

  “Yes, this again. I made another mistake, and I’m hoping you’ll forgive me as easily as before.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I was—am—attracted to you, too, Kenna. It hit me the wrong way, and I reacted poorly. I tried to make it stop, and I’m sorry.”

  The burst of honesty nearly undid her. She gulped.

  He reached out, drew his arm back, then reached out again, this time taking her hand. “Go out with me.”

  Like...on a date?

  Her first instinct was to shout “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” And she almost did it. The thought of going to dinner with him, of being the woman sitting across from him rather than the one serving him...having him gaze at her with longing, walking her to her door, kissing her...thrilled her to the bone. But what would happen next?

  Would they have sex?

  And then what? Would they keep dating? Or would he work her into his rotation of women?

  Would she come to resent him for his lack of commitment?

  “I might hate myself later,” she said, opting for honesty, as well, “but I’m going to decline. We agreed to be friends, and I’d like to continue that way.”

  Determined now, he scooted his chair around the table, moving closer to her without ever releasing her hand. “I don’t want to be your friend, Kenna. I want to be more.”

  A lump grew in her throat. Unable to speak, she shook her head.

  “Why?” he insisted. “Because I’m an ass?”

  “You are. Sometimes. But that’s not why.” Do it. Tell him. She swallowed and said, “You’re a bad bet, Dane. For me, I mean. Only for me.”

  He flinched, and she wanted to throat-punch herself. Making him feel bad about himself wasn’t her goal.

  “You don’t understand,” she said.

  A muscle ticked below his eye. “Then help me.”

  Where to start? “I was scrawny as a teen and no one ever asked me out. My only friend was Brook Lynn and with her inability to leave her house without earmuffs, she was just as uncool as I was. We never went to parties until the Anderson boys threw a kegger. Jessie Kay got an invite, and we snuck out to go with her. We were so thrilled to be there with actual college boys we got caught up in the excitement. Brook Lynn passed out in a closet at some point. I drank too much and ended up in bed with...” She lowered her voice, shame dripping from her next words. “Three of those college guys. Three, Dane. It was humiliating and disappointing. A mistake I couldn’t take back.”

  He stiffened. “You were underage. They were not. They took advantage of you.”

  “I was willing.”

  “You weren’t in the right state of mind to decide, honey. And if I didn’t know it would put you through hell, I would find out the names of the boys and—” He cut himself off. Rage had caused his pupils to flare like pure obsidian glitter. “Tell me the rest.”

  She gulped, saying, “Kids were still there when I woke up, and they saw me. The look in their eyes...” A shudder rocked her. “I never want to see it again. Then, of course, I found out I was pregnant and more than just kids looked at me that way. Because, yes, while we live in a society used to young, unwed mothers, there’s still judgment. You know there is. But now, my past is finally white noise, at least for the most part, and I just don’t want to dredge everything back up by becoming one of your many women.”

  Silence.

  This one wasn’t awkward, but it was tense.

  The rage drained from him, and he squeezed her hands. “I hate that you went through that, but I like the woman you’ve become.”

  He wasn’t condemning her, and his support hadn’t wavered. He sympathized. He...cared.

  He was only the third person to do so. The other two were her roommates. Tears burned the backs of her eyes.

  He forged ahead. “I’ve never done a commitment, but there’s something about you that makes me want to try. I won’t see anyone else while we’re together. And we can take things slow. As slow as you want, as long as we are together. And if you feel better sneaking around at first, fine. No one has to know.”

  “I...I...” Didn’t know what to say.

  He cupped the back of her neck and urged her forward until her nose brushed his, his warm breath fanning over her lips. “I’ve never desired anyone the way I desire you. You are all I can think about, all I care about. I’m useless at work and apparently a major asshole. More of one than usual. I yell at everyone. I can’t sleep, barely eat. I look at pictures from the engagement party and wish you were with me.”

  She...couldn’t...process...

  “If you need time to think about this, fine,” he said. “That’s okay, too. I’m not going anywhere. Not this time. I bought the ranch to be close to you. I won’t be able to stay there all the time since I still work in the city, but I’ll be in town a lot more often.”

  “Like...this weekend?”

  “Especially this weekend. Friday is the Fourth of July, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” His stare intensified. “I’d love to meet you in town for the go-big-or-go-home celebration. I can pretend I’m enjoying the fireworks, as long as I see you.”

  Had any woman ever been able to resist him?

  “We’ll even knock another item off your list,” he added, as if she needed more convincing.

  “I do have the holiday free, but...” But what? Jumping into the water with all her clothes on had lacked something with West. He had laughed and thrown her a towel, but Dane might have gathered her against his hard, broad chest and warmed her that way. “Yes,” she whispered, excited already. “I’ll meet you on Friday.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE GOOD PEOPLE of Strawberry Valley had transformed Main Street for the Fourth of July celebration. Traffic had been blocked off from both sides, allowing twenty different booths to be set up. At least ten of those were selling different strawberry-themed desserts. The other ten were strawberry-themed games. Pin the strawberry on the sundae. Strawberry jar toss. Strawberry in the haystack.

  A dance floor had been set up at the far end of the block, and a live band played next to it. Adults and teens were two-stepping, and little kids were running around as if their feet had been set on fire. Dane looked around. No sign of Kenna and Norrie yet.

  His nervousness returned. Tonight mattered. He had to get it right. Had to convince Kenna to give him a chance. The time away from her had only made him want her more.

  He had no idea how to make a relationship work, especially with a woman who would have fed everyone she encountered a spoonful of sugar if she could have afforded it. Far too nice for me. But as he’d told her, he wanted to try.

  And if he didn’t get his hands on her soon, he might as well lock himself inside a padded room and throw away the key.

  Dane spied West in front of the strawberry cone booth, talking with two guys he didn’t recognize, and walked over. Along the way, two people stopped him to ask him for a loan. One guy asked him for advice on how to pick up women, and an older woman mentally stripped away his clothes—he was sure of it. He didn’t remember any of their names, but they treated him like a long-lost benefactor, displaying zero reluctance and a truckload of
expectation. Ah, the joys of small-town living.

  When he finally made it over, West gave him a cocky grin. “How are things with Miz Kenna?”

  “I don’t think I like her name on your lips.”

  The grin only grew wider. “Boys, this is Dane Michaelson. The one who stole my girl. Dane, this is Jase Hollister and Beck Ockley. My friends, business partners and the newest residents of Strawberry Valley.”

  Jase was a big guy. Tall and seriously stacked with muscle, with dark hair and the coldest green eyes Dane had ever seen. His arms were covered heavily with tattoos that looked like they hid scars, and there was even a tattoo peeking from the collar of his shirt, skirting the edge of his neck. His shirt was plain and black, his jeans ripped in several places. He wore two silver necklaces, and had leather cuffs circling both of his wrists. There were even rings on many of his tattooed fingers. But on this guy, the jewelry did not look feminine. Not with that rough, rugged face.

  Had Dane been a lesser man, he might have found the intensity blazing off the guy intimidating. Jase looked as if he only ever smiled after he gutted puppies and skinned cats.

  Beck was almost as tall, with a slightly leaner frame. His hair was dark blond and messy. His eyes brown. He was masculine, yet almost pretty—a panty melter, said a girl passing by.

  “Welcome to town,” Dane said. “Stay away from Kenna Starr and we’ll be fine.”

  The big one, Jase, crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Is it true you stole her away from West?”

  Dane had a split-second thought that his life hinged on the answer, but he didn’t exactly care. Jaw clenching, he snapped, “She was never his.”

  “Is that so?” said the other guy, Beck. His tone was so cold the air actually chilled.

  Dane stood his ground. “Yeah. That’s so.”

  A moment passed. Any second, he expected fists to start flying. Maybe a knife to slide into his gut. These guys were obviously as close as brothers and would protect each other from any threat. Then the corners of Jase’s mouth twitched.

  He looked to West. “You were right. He’s a goner.”

  Goner? What the hell?