Texas Grit

by Barb Han

  “He adapted right away.”

  “What made you give him the name Flash?” She was curious as to his thinking.

  “That’s all it takes to change.” Dade snapped his fingers. “And Split Second was too long.”

  She laughed despite the heavy feelings weighing her down.

  Change? She wished she knew that trick, because her past had always haunted her. She felt like a slave to a life she’d worked so damn hard to get away from.

  Dade took a step toward her, and she backed up a few steps until her back touched the door. He looked so far into her eyes that she felt like he could see right through to her toes. “Don’t go away again, Carrie,” he said and his voice was low and gravelly. Sexy.

  With those intense blue eyes staring into hers, she’d be willing to promise just about anything. Except that she’d stick around.

  “If I lose my business, there’ll be nothing left for me here.” Her voice shook with uncertainty.

  “You won’t.” He was so confident even as hurt flashed in his eyes.

  She wished she shared his opinion, that she could believe it was true from deep down and not somewhere on the surface where it could be pulled under. She could be pulled under.

  His gaze dropped to her lips, and her throat went dry.

  “Do you plan to kiss me or stand there and stare at me all night?” she asked with as much bravado as she could, which was saying a lot. With his strong male presence toe to toe with her, she could feel masculinity pulse from him, and it made her legs weaken. Afraid they might not be able to carry her weight, she braced herself against the wall behind her and tugged his face down to meet hers.

  He took in a deep breath a half second before their lips crashed together. Hunger rolled off him in tangible waves. Electricity hummed through her as the kiss deepened.

  With his mouth moving against hers, she got lost...lost in his touch as his hands cupped her face...lost in his clean masculine scent. He was all outdoors and male and strength.

  Before she could debate her actions, her hands went to the hem of his T-shirt. He helped her by shrugging out of it, and then she unbuttoned her blouse. Her shirt joined his on the floor next to them as he cupped her breasts in his hands. They swelled and pressed against the lace of her bra. Her nipples beaded as his thumbs rolled over them and a low raspy breath poured from his mouth.

  She undid her bra, needing to feel skin against skin. Hunger burned through her as his strong hands grazed her skin. His touch was light at first, causing need to swell inside her, overtaking every rational thought that this might be a bad idea.

  “You’re beautiful, Carrie. You’ve always been beautiful,” he said in that low, gravelly voice that sent sensual ripples skittering across her skin.

  All that did was fan the flames burning inside her.

  Need overtook logic again when her hands flew to his zipper. She helped him shed his jeans and boxers, and there was just enough light in the room to show the ripples of his abs, the patch of dark hair trailing south from his belly button.

  Carrie was out of her shorts and lacy underwear in two seconds flat and he groaned other words of appreciation for her body. She doubted that she was beautiful in reality, but he made her feel like she was. She should be embarrassed, standing there naked and exposed in front of Dade, but it felt as natural as the sun shining.

  She realized that she’d wanted this, to be with him, for longer than she cared to let herself remember or admit.

  Her arms wound around his neck as he lifted her off her feet easily. Their lips found each other’s as he made his way to the bedroom. She could feel his thick length pulsing against her skin. Her stomach gave a little flip, and she pressed her lips to his even harder. She needed this—him.

  In the next second she was on the bed and his strong body was on top of her, pressing her into the mattress.

  She reached for the nightstand next to her bed and felt around for a condom. She held it up to him and he ripped it open before she helped him roll it onto his silky length. She stretched her fingers around his erection, and he made another guttural groan of pleasure.

  “Carrie.” More sensual skitters flitted across her skin when he said her name. She could get used to the sound on his lips. She loved the way he tasted, minty and like he’d just had a cup of coffee. And he probably had.

  This should feel strange, but it didn’t. Being with Dade seemed like the most natural thing. She brought her hands up to his neck and tunneled her fingers into his hair as he dipped his tip inside her. A battlefield of sensation lit as he teased himself deeper and deeper toward her core.

  It didn’t take long for him to bring her to the edge of ecstasy as he threaded her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. His tongue inside her mouth built to a fever pitch.

  Carrie matched him, stride for stride, as need climbed to impossible heights. And just before she let go and flew off the cliff with him, free-falling toward the earth at a dizzying pace, she thought she heard Dade whisper, “I love you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dade stirred, instinctively reaching for Carrie. All he felt was cold sheets next to him. He untangled himself and checked the clock on the nightstand. Three thirty a.m. He pushed off the bed and glanced around. Light from down the hall made it easy enough to locate his boxers, which had been folded and placed on top of a neat pile on the chair next to the door. His boots were tucked underneath.

  He threw on his boxers and jeans and headed out to find her.

  “Hey,” she said as he emerged from the hall. She sat on a chair near the front window with her legs tucked underneath her sweet round bottom. Her hand was at her face, and it looked like she was chewing on her nail.

  “What’s wrong?” He strode across the room and bent down to kiss her.

  “Nothing.” She turned her head in time for him to catch her cheek instead of her lips. Whoa. What the hell did that mean? She’d put on the brakes awfully quick.

  “Seriously, what’s going on?” He needed something from her, some kind of sign to know what had happened between them was okay. A few hours ago had changed everything. He’d hoped she felt the same.

  She smiled up at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She grabbed his forearm. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be distracted. I’ve just been thinking.”

  There was an empty coffee mug next to her, indicating she’d been awake for a while. Had she gone to sleep at all after they’d made love? He’d been out pretty quick after what he’d thought was the best sex of both of their lives. Now, he felt a little insecure. He almost laughed out loud at the thought. Dade Butler had never had an insecure moment when it came to his love life in the past.

  This must have something to do with his relationship with his father. Recently, the Mav had been making an effort and Dade had shot his father down, confused over the timing. Hell, why now? After all these years, why had his father suddenly wanted to have a different relationship? It had all been pretty clear-cut before. The Mav did his own thing and his children did theirs. The only common thread was that everyone deeply cared about the ranch, the land and—at least in the case of his kids—each other.

  Not being able to find out why the Mav had had a change of heart now that he was gone was eating away at Dade’s resolve. He could admit that—and it was most likely why Carrie’s rejection stung so much.

  “I need coffee. Want some?” he asked as he turned toward the kitchen.

  “I’ve had enough,” she said.

  He returned a couple of minutes later with a new perspective following a little bit of a caffeine boost. He took a seat on the couch across the room from Carrie. She looked exhausted, and a moment of guilt hit that he’d kept her awake when she should’ve been sleeping. It was probably his pride turning her rejection over and over again in his head. That and the fact that Dade hadn’t been rejected much in his lif
e. Wounded pride had him feeling like this was a bigger deal than it was. Sure, they’d had great sex. His body got going again just thinking about how silky her skin felt against his hands. Way to keep things light, Butler.

  “What’s keeping you from sleep?” He sure as hell hoped she wasn’t about to say the fact that he was in her bed.

  Coco hopped up on the couch next to him and settled down.

  “A few thoughts keep rolling around in my head, and I can’t seem to let them go,” she said.

  He waited as she gathered her thoughts, taking a sip of coffee to get his own mental engines revved up.

  “Do you remember the profile the sheriff gave of the kind of person who could be watching me?” she asked.

  “Sawmill said something about a loner. He would most likely suffer from a mental disorder,” he supplied.

  “I was so sure that it was Brett leaving those ‘gifts’ on my car and here at home. I know that summer dress was here.” In going through all the possible suspects, she could cross one name off the list, and that was her ex. It was obvious to Dade that she couldn’t even begin to process the guilt that had her convinced his death was somehow her fault. “And then I started looking at everyone differently. Could it have been someone I knew? Eric or Teddy the delivery guy?”

  “Eric definitely doesn’t fit the profile. Sawmill said he had a girlfriend who vouched for him. He has no criminal history and hangs out with quite a few friends on the weekends. He plays on a recreational volleyball team and volunteers to coach in his church league,” Dade reminded her.

  “I know. The profile of a stalker is quite the opposite. The person the sheriff is looking for probably has a mental disorder, which could be difficult to detect if the person was good at hiding it. He most likely spends most of his time alone and doesn’t have friends. The sheriff also said that he suffers from delusional thought patterns and behaviors, and that brings me to Nash.” She crossed her legs and started rocking her foot.

  “We don’t know as much about him. The fact that he doesn’t have roots anywhere doesn’t necessarily make him a stalker. But then, his lifestyle of moving around and not really making any friends could put him in that category,” Dade continued. “And we don’t even know where he is.”

  “He could be anywhere,” she said with a visible shudder.

  “Including Canada by now for all we know.”

  “True.” She stared out the front window. “Or right here under our noses.”

  “He hasn’t been seen in town,” he reassured her.

  “Another good point. But what if it’s not him? So far, he’s the only person I keep coming back to. But what if it’s someone else? I mean, he’s a drunk. Does that fit the profile? He was sloppy, too. And that gets me thinking that it might not be him. The sheriff is still digging around for suspects. I’m starting to wonder who else it could be.” She looked out the window toward her neighbor’s house with that blank, defeated expression that Dade had come to hate. “I have no idea who my neighbor is, and I’ve never once seen someone visit. From all that I can tell, he’s a loner and he could have a disorder. He keeps odd hours, and who knows what he’s really doing when he’s gone for days on end. He snapped at me when I tried to speak to him the other day. Maybe us being nice to each other is not in the fantasy world he created if it’s him.”

  Dade moved to the window. He didn’t want to acknowledge the sting of rejection he felt that intensified the closer he was to her. “There’s a light on at his house. Maybe it’s time he and I get to know each other a little better.”

  She reached out and touched his arm. More of those frustrating frissons of heat zinged through him, and especially at the thought she didn’t feel the same. The sexual chemistry was obvious, but he wanted more than one night.

  “Be careful,” she warned.

  * * *

  CARRIE SAT IN the chair, looking out the front window. Making love to Dade had thrown her completely off balance. Her world had tilted on its axis.

  To make matters worse, she’d thought he’d said he loved her. Everything inside her wanted to believe those three words, to believe that the fantasy could come true and that she and Dade could have a future together.

  But then she remembered everyone she’d lost and she would lose him, too. Loving Dade would mean opening herself up to unimaginable pain if he walked away. And that was the problem. She couldn’t allow herself to open that vein again. Not even with Dade.

  When this whole ordeal was over, and it would be at some point, she would have to be okay with leaving Cattle Barge. It hadn’t turned out to be the welcoming home she’d been searching for when she’d opened the shop last year.

  Maybe she would never feel like she was home anywhere. A little voice in the back of her mind said she was home when she was with Dade. She wouldn’t argue against it because she’d be wasting her time.

  But she didn’t have to give in to the feeling, either.

  Whatever it took, Carrie had to protect herself even if it meant shutting out the one man she could see herself loving for the rest of her life.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dade gave the door a couple of taps. The light inside the bungalow-style house turned off. Come on. Don’t be a jerk.

  Dade intended to have a conversation with the man. He needed to feel him out and get a read on the guy.

  A few more taps, harder this time, and there was no sign of movement. Obviously, the guy was home. Dade’s blood pressure spiked as he turned away, resigned to speak to the man another time.

  The door swung open fast and an intense-looking man a few inches shorter than Dade stepped forward in a threatening manner. Well, it would be threatening to someone smaller and weaker than Dade. The second his eyes sized up Dade, the guy’s posture instantly changed.

  “Hey, sorry. I thought you were someone else,” he said with his hands up, palms out toward Dade in the surrender position.

  “Do you mean like your next-door neighbor?” Dade kept his feet positioned in an athletic stance.

  “Not her in particular, but women in general,” he snapped.

  Didn’t that boil Dade’s blood pressure? The guy might not be intimidating to Dade, but he would be to someone smaller than him. And this creep might be trying to scare Carrie.

  “And what exactly do you have against women?” Dade fisted and released his hands at his sides.

  “How long do you have to hear about it?” The joke fell flat. He stuck out his hand, a peace offering. “I’m Kyle, by the way.”

  “Dade Butler.” He took the outstretched hand after a pause and realized Kyle’s hand was shaky. Did he have something to hide? Or was he afraid of Dade?

  “Sorry about before.” Kyle looked to be a few years older than Dade, but not by much. “My mind’s been in a bad place since the divorce.”

  The last word tipped Dade into a new direction. Being divorced could make Kyle angry toward women. Although Sawmill had said stalkers were usually single. To be fair, this guy was single now, but loners didn’t usually get married in the first place. Although, there were always exceptions. Dade remembered that a notorious serial killer from Kansas had been married with kids.

  “Come in.” Kyle motioned.

  Going inside would give Dade a chance to check out the place. See if there was anything suspicious.

  Dade thanked him as he stepped inside. Kyle closed the door.

  “You want a beer or something? I don’t sleep well anymore and having a beer calms my mind.” Kyle’s living room consisted of a couch and a flat screen that had been mounted to the wall. There was a Blu-ray player on the floor. A sound bar had been placed on top of a book. Other than that, there were kids’ toys spilling out of an opened chest with a cartoon print on it.

  “No, thanks. I’m waking up, not winding down,” he replied.

  “Mind if I have one?�
�� Kyle asked.

  “Nope.” Dade followed him into the kitchen. There wasn’t much to the decor, but the place had all the necessities and was neat enough.

  “Butler,” Kyle repeated, popping open the top of a can of brew. “I’ve heard that name before.”

  “My family owns a pretty big cattle ranch around here,” Dade offered, not wanting to go into the details of the Mav’s murder—and most likely the real reason Kyle had heard the name—with a stranger. Dade could admit that his emotions were heightened with everything that had been going on in his family.

  Kyle nodded.

  “What’s your problem with Carrie?” Dade asked outright.

  “Who?” Kyle looked genuinely surprised.

  Dade motioned toward her house. “Your neighbor.”

  “Oh.” Recognition dawned. He shot another apologetic look. “I guess I’ve been a jerk to her. To just about everyone since the divorce.”

  “That what brought you to Cattle Barge?” Dade asked. Anyone new in town was suspect to him after everything that had happened, was still happening. And that wasn’t exactly fair.

  “It was as far away as I could get from my ex and her family in Austin without putting too much distance between me and my son,” he admitted. He sounded angry when he mentioned his ex. Dade could feel ripples of annoyance pulsing from Kyle, and his thinned lips gave away his attitude toward his ex. Toward women?

  “Bad divorce?” he asked casually.

  “That’s putting it lightly.” Kyle located his phone and pulled up a pic of a smiling kid with a round face who looked like a younger version of the man standing next to Dade. “But my son is nothing like his mother. He’s seven.”

  The guy’s posture changed when he spoke about his child. His face lit up, and the worry lines etched in his forehead eased. “She’s taking me to court again, trying to get full custody.”

  That kind of anger toward one woman could translate to others, right?