by Yule, S. K.
He dipped his head and kissed her. She moaned when he teased his tongue past her lips and inside her mouth. A low rumble echoed in his chest in answer. A growl that she was growing accustomed to. A growl that always had the same effect on her. Her skin heated as if she were suddenly standing next to a fire that had flared too hot. In a way, she had. Galen was that fire, and if she got too close, he’d burn her.
He lifted his head and stared down at her. Too late. Already too close. And that was when it hit her. She’d fallen in love with him. Logic told her it wasn’t possible. She hadn’t known him long enough, but apparently her heart had not gotten the memo. Great going, Myka. Now when he leaves, he’s going to take your heart with him.
“I’m going to go help Patrick now.” She edged away from him.
He nodded. “I’ll finish up here. Then I’m going to make some repairs on the paddocks. I’ll see you later.”
As she turned to walk away, Galen’s warm fingers encircled her arm and tugged her gently back to face him.
“I’m looking forward to holding you in my arms tonight.”
“I’m looking forward to that as well.”
It wasn’t until he let out a slow breath that she realized he’d been holding it. Had he been worried that she’d changed her mind? If she was smart, she would change her mind, but she’d never been in love before. She wanted to experience it for however long she could. After all, she may never get the chance to do so again.
He brought her hand up to his mouth, brushed his lips over the back of it, then stroked his thumb over her skin before releasing her.
* * * *
Galen had gotten most of the boards on the paddocks replaced before the sound of a car pulling up the drive distracted him. He assumed it was Betty coming to pick up Patrick. As he made his way around the barn, Patrick ran out of the front door, toward the car, with a small overnight bag in one hand and his cowboy hat in the other. He changed course when he saw Galen and came to a screeching halt in front of him.
“I’m leaving now,” he said after firmly planting the cowboy hat on his head.
“I see that.”
Galen didn’t miss the way Patrick stared up at him expectantly. He reached out and patted him on the shoulder, which seemed to appease him.
“Have a good time.”
“I will. Take care of Myka for me.” Patrick leaned closer and whispered, “She gets kind of stressed out when I’m gone. She doesn’t know I know that, but I do. Don’t tell her I told you.”
“I’ll take good care of her. Don’t worry.”
Galen smiled when Patrick launched himself against his legs and gave him a quick hug.
“K! See ya.” He turned and ran back toward the car where Betty and a boy that appeared to be the same age as Patrick stood talking to Myka.
The boy had to be Leroy. He was the complete opposite of Patrick. Leroy had dark hair, brown eyes, and dark skin. Patrick was blond with green eyes and lighter skin. He figured Patrick must have taken after his mother in the looks department because Myka had dark hair and skin as well. Unless, of course, Myka’s brother had had the same coloring as Patrick.
Betty and Myka talked for a moment while Patrick and Leroy got acquainted. Betty waved at Galen before she opened the passenger side of the SUV to let the boys in and helped them buckle their seat belts.
“Hey! I didn’t get my hug,” Myka said before leaning into the SUV and giving Patrick a good squeeze.
Within a couple minutes, the SUV was making its way back down the drive. Myka slowly walked toward him. The slight sway of her hips called to him like a siren’s song. He wondered if she had any idea how incredibly sexy she was. Did she possibly understand how much she turned him on? How much he wanted her? Did she know how much power she held over him? That she had the ability to crush him in her tiny hands?
No. She didn’t. He was sure of that. And he was even more sure that if she did, she’d never use that power against him. He’d met women who used their sex appeal to get what they wanted from men. Myka was nothing like those women.
“I almost have the paddocks repaired.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She smiled up at him.
His gut clenched. He’d rather die than walk away from her, but if he didn’t . . . she might die. That was unacceptable.
“You’ve done fine without me up until this point. You’d continue to do fine without me now.”
“I suppose, but you’ve made my life easier. It has slowed down now with the gardening out of the way for the year, but I still couldn’t have gotten all of the things done that you have already.”
“Making your life easier brings me great pleasure.”
“I have to do some paperwork and clean the chicken coop. After that, I’ll help you bring the horses in and brush them down.”
He wanted to kiss her, but if he did, he had no doubt he’d have her on the dirt in two seconds flat, taking advantage of her. He remembered last night, and his cock twitched. He hadn’t been the only one taking advantage. And damned if he hadn’t loved it.
“I’m not sure what I’m cooking for dinner. I thought I’d wing it,” Myka said.
“I could help.”
“You cook?” she asked in surprise.
“It is the twenty-first century. Men do cook on occasion,” he said sardonically.
“I guess you’re right.” She laughed. “I’d love to have help cooking dinner.”
She nodded and slowly turned toward the chicken coop. He couldn’t help but watch her delectable ass as she walked away. The dark jeans perfectly outlined the curve of her hips. He gritted his teeth as he fought down the wolf and his own need to chase after her. He never thought he could want a woman as badly as he wanted Myka. The yearning made his body ache, and the thought that she may very well hate him after tonight nearly killed him.
Chapter Nine
Anticipation rode him hard as Galen tapped on the door. He’d spent all afternoon doing hard physical labor trying to keep his need for Myka in check, which had barely managed to take the edge off. When it had finally gotten close to dinnertime, he’d brought the horses in and showered.
While he liked spending time with Patrick, he was glad for the upcoming evening he and Myka could share alone. Not to mention that he thought it was good for Patrick to hang out with Leroy. Boys needed to be boys, and Galen hoped the two days Patrick spent at Betty’s would provide a pleasant distraction and give him a moment’s peace from a reality without his father.
When Myka opened the door, all thoughts fled his mind, and the breath rushed from his lungs. She had on the dress he’d bought her from Susie’s, the one Mr. Lee had mentioned Myka admiring. When he’d slipped in the house earlier and left it on the end of her bed, he wasn’t sure if she’d accept the gift or not. He was more than pleased that she had as he eyed her slowly from head to toe and back.
The dark red fabric trimmed in black around the collar, sleeves, and flared skirt laid against her dark skin, enhancing its golden hue. The wide black belt made her already tiny waist appear even smaller.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
His cock, however, was not into subtlety, and swelled against his jeans.
She looked down, the forward tip of her head freeing a few wavy strands of black hair from the clip holding it up to fall softly around her face. Her fingers fluttered over the fabric before she looked back up at him and smiled.
“Thank you, Galen. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“Yes. It is.” But he made it clear with his hot stare that he was not talking about the dress. “If you only knew how badly I wanted to kiss you right now,” he growled.
“What’s stopping you?” She raised a brow and sucked in a sharp breath.
He shook his head. “If I kiss you, there will be no dinner, no talking, no anything because I won’t be able to stop at just a kiss.”
“I’m not sure I see the problem with that.”
“Too tempting, Myka
.” His body was so hot he thought he might go off like an A-bomb at any moment.
“I guess we better get cooking then. Um, I mean dinner.” She giggled nervously.
He bent and kissed her on the cheek and breathed her sweet scent deep into his lungs. She stepped aside and shut the door after he walked through to the kitchen.
* * * *
Earlier, Myka had been a bit overwhelmed when she found the dress she’d been eyeing at Susie’s for the past several months in a box on the end of her bed. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had given her such a thoughtful gift. However, the gift did raise a few questions in her mind as well. She’d initially thought Galen to be a drifter. Most of the drifters she’d met flitted from job to job, only staying until boredom set in. And while she didn’t like to label people, none of the drifters she’d met had much money. The dress was not cheap.
She’d promptly chastised herself and her overcurious mind before it traveled on to bigger and more creative things to explain why Galen had the means to buy such a frivolous item that wasn’t a necessity. He was obviously not a drinker, as were a lot of drifters, but that was labeling again. Just because the ones she’d come across had liked their alcohol, it didn’t mean they all did. In the end, she’d felt bad about scrutinizing his gift in such a way.
It had been a sweet, unselfish, kind gesture, and she decided to take it for what it was. He’d wanted to do something nice for her. She figured the only reason she’d thought it a bit strange in the first place was because she’d never gotten a gift from a man other than her father—years ago—and Travis. That made the dress a gift she’d never forget, one she’d cherish forever, as the man she loved had given it to her.
As Galen walked by her into the kitchen, butterflies danced in her stomach. He looked extra mouthwateringly good tonight. Hell. Who was she trying to fool? He’d look mouthwatering in a burlap sack. She hadn’t seen a pair of jeans that didn’t like him yet. Every single pair he owned fit him like a glove and showed off his lean hips and strong thighs. Not to mention his perfect ass. She swallowed hard. Damn. She needed to stop drooling over him every time she saw him, and keep the bigger picture in mind. Galen would leave, and she needed to stay focused on taking care of Patrick.
“I thought we could make some spaghetti?”
“Mmm. One of my favorites,” Galen replied.
She got all of the ingredients out for the sauce, and they started working together to prepare the onion, tomato, and mushrooms.
“Tell me about your childhood, Myka. Was it happy?” he asked while chopping some onion.
“Yes. Travis was my only sibling. My mother and father were wonderful, loving parents. They had a knack for allowing us to find our own way in life while providing guidance and discipline where needed. I was curious about everything, especially reading. I love to read. Travis, on the other hand, seemed to attract trouble. He wasn’t a bad kid in any way, but continually found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Tell me about him,” Galen encouraged.
“He was five years older than me. He always watched out for me. Took care of me. Protected me like any good brother would. But I can’t say I’ve ever known anyone as accident-prone. By the time I was ten, he’d broken his arm, leg, nose, several ribs, and had had many other injuries due to mishaps. Nothing he really ever caused. Just bad luck, I guess. We all laughed and told him he was cursed. We even had a name for the curse: the Travisty.” She laughed and then swallowed hard.
“I thought he’d finally outgrown it a few years after he’d graduated high school. It caught back up to him six months ago. He worked his way up from the line to manager in a manufacturing plant. The workers loved him. He took care of them. Listened to any complaints they might have and tried to find amicable solutions. Treated them like family. One day there was a problem with one of the machines. He went down to help. It was shut off, every safety precaution had been taken, but somehow there was an electrical surge. The machine turned on. It took his arm off, and he bled to death. It was a freak accident.”
“I’m sorry, Myka.”
“Thank you. As the days roll by, I learn to cope with it a little better, but there are still days when I wake up and expect a phone call from Travis. And poor Patrick. Travis loved him something fierce. They were close. After Patrick’s mother left when he was a baby, Travis stepped up, and Patrick became his whole universe. It was hard for Travis at first. Trisha was the love of his life, and Patrick resembles her.”
“You’ve been good to Patrick. Not many aunts would take a nephew in like you did and care for him as their own.”
“I guess you are right. He’s come long way. Betty has worked wonders with him. I am thankful every day that she came into our lives.”
“Life has mysterious ways of providing what you need.”
“Yes. It does, doesn’t it? To make a long story short about my childhood, anyway, I had planned to go to college, but once Travis moved to Malta, I moved out here to be closer to him. Mom and Dad were both gone by then. Mom to cancer and Dad to a heart attack. Travis was the only family I had left. I immediately fell in love with this place when I found it. It’s been hard at times, but I’m happy here.”
Galen smiled.
“Enough about me, though. Tell me about your childhood.” She didn’t miss the way he stiffened. “Should I not have asked?” she said before putting the rest of the veggies he’d cut into the sauce and stirring it.
“My childhood was a long time ago.”
She laughed. “You make it sound like you are an old man. What are you, thirty-four? Thirty-five?”
“Something like that,” he snorted.
“Ah. A man prickly about his age. I thought women were usually the ones who were secretive about those kinds of things.”
“Uh-huh. My childhood was . . . different. You could say I lived in another time. I didn’t have loving parents. They were good people, don’t get me wrong, but my pack, um, family had different views on things. I wasn’t neglected or abused, but I had to grow up faster than most. By the time I was Patrick’s age, I was hunting for food. I didn’t go to school. But later, when I was on my own, I took it upon myself to get an education. I never went to college, but I was good with money. I spent a lot of time working with charities. The bad thing about working with money and those who have a lot of it is you start seeing the selfish, greedy side of people. Greed like you never thought possible. Greed that is unbelievable. After a while, I backed away from everything and kept to myself.”
“I’ve never had money, Galen, but I can see how money has the power to corrupt.”
“You have no idea, and I hope you never do. Anyway, let’s say that since taking a closer look at people and their twisted values, I’ve traveled from place to place experiencing the world.”
“That’s amazing. I would like to travel one day.” She sighed.
“Maybe you can.”
“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” She handed him a pot to fill with water for the noodles.
He filled the pot halfway with water from the tap, sat it on the stove, and she turned on the burner. After stirring the sauce again, she placed the noodles in the water.
While Galen didn’t particularly seem unhappy, or say he’d had a bad life, she felt sad for him. Had he always been by himself? Did he have friends? People who cared?
“Do you have any family now, Galen?”
“Kind of, but that’s a subject best left for later.”
Which meant he didn’t want to talk about it. She took the hint and left the subject alone for now.
“The sauce is smelling good.” She stirred the bubbling, thick sauce and let the rich aroma assault her nose with its wonderful flavor.
“It’s not the only thing smelling good,” he whispered.
She startled. He was behind her, and was sniffing her hair.
“How do you do that?” She put the lid back on the sauce, turned around, and scooted sideways so
she didn’t end up burning her back on the stove when she leaned against the counter.
“Do what?”
“How does someone your size move around like you do?”
He raised a brow, and she snorted.
“You’re huge, and you don’t make a freaking sound when you walk. I didn’t even hear you come up behind me.” She frowned.
“I’m light on my feet.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s more than that. Maybe you were trained in the military or something?”
“No. No military. I don’t like to fight.”
She moved closer, sizing him up. “I believe that, but I bet you wouldn’t back down if push came to shove either.”
He pulled in a deep breath and stiffened.
“There’s something about you, Galen. Can’t quite put my finger on it, but from the first day I met you, you’ve had a way of communicating with your body. You aren’t like anyone else I’ve ever met. Your moves are deliberate. They almost have a stalking aura to them—although, I’m not sure that’s the right word to describe it. I don’t mean creepy stalking, just . . . I don’t know.” She shrugged.
“Do I scare you?”
She might have laughed, told him he could scare the Jolly Green Giant, if sincere worry wasn’t etched across his face.
“No. Not even when we first met. Which, come to think of it, I should have been intimidated as hell by your size alone. And I can’t explain that one either. Because honestly? I’m out here alone with Patrick, and I should have been more cautious with you, if not flat-out scared. My instincts have told me all along that you would never hurt me or Patrick. Maybe I shouldn’t put that much faith into my instincts, but they’ve never failed me before.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he pulled in a deep, slow breath. “The last thing I’d ever want to do is scare you. And you are right. I would never hurt you or Patrick. Not if my life depended on it.”
* * * *
And yet that’s exactly what he was going to do. Scare the hell out of her. Galen had no doubt that Myka could handle just about anything she was faced with, but when he told her what he was? He wasn’t exactly sure how that would go. Would she believe him? Probably not . . . at first. But he’d make sure she knew exactly what she might potentially have to deal with before he left.