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Unforgiven

Page 3

by Delilah Devlin


  Cutter shoved him back and gave him a pained grin. “I like it quiet.”

  “And you always look like a wounded dog.” Wade lifted one rusty brown brow. “Where’d Katie run off to?”

  Cutter cursed under his breath and stalked off, Wade’s wry chuckles following up the stairs.

  He’d finished with Katie. Gotten her out of his system for good this time.

  So why couldn’t he shake the picture of her body curled in on itself and her shattered expression as he’d left her alone in his bedroom?

  Shame crept across his cheeks, heating his skin. A cold, hard knot settled in his belly. What he needed to do was forget.

  And he knew just the way to do it. He turned back to Wade and tilted his head toward the front door of his great big house. “Let me get you a drink. And then maybe I’ll wipe that grin right off your face for good.”

  ———

  Cutter took another long draw of his beer and slammed the bottle back down on the table. Wade had wandered off, following the curling finger of a certain blonde he’d been seeing, and leaving Cutter alone to stew in his own juices.

  Cutter grimaced and took another pull of his beer. The Katie he thought he’d known would never have been that bold. Back in the day, she might have met his gaze across the dance floor and given him a shy smile. An invitation he would have been helpless to refuse.

  She’d moved to Two Mule while Dani was in Austin at school and opened a small diner. He’d been curious about anyone foolhardy enough to start a business in a town where nothing ever changed and nothing new ever succeeded. They’d all underestimated her cooking and her quiet charm. Like all the single men in the county, he’d showered and shaved, polished his best boots and headed to Katie’s Diner every chance he got.

  At first, he’d been content to watch her fend off the invitations of every other guy with a steady smile that soothed the disappointment. She’d been determined to make a success of her venture. When it appeared she’d weathered the lessening in traffic after the honeymoon period, she’d relaxed, hired more help and settled in, getting to know the town folk.

  She hadn’t dated much. After she’d finally accepted his invitation, she hadn’t dated anyone else at all. He’d thought his claim was struck. And he’d begun a slow courtship, doing everything right, he’d thought. After the first date, he’d left her with a kiss. When she’d had him over for dinner, he’d kept his hands on all the safe places—her back, the tops of her hips. They’d watched a movie in the dark, and they’d kissed. He’d remained in blue-ball hell for weeks until one night she’d cornered him on her couch, sliding a knee over his lap and settling down, a stubborn tilt to her chin.

  “Are you attracted to me at all?”

  Cutter had swallowed, wondering if it was a trick question. The proof of his feelings was awakening, responding predictably to the weight and heat of her open thighs. “Baby, you know I am.”

  “Then is there something wrong with you? Something you’re not telling me. Because if there’s a problem—”

  He hadn’t been able to help the smile that tugged at his lips.

  She’d slapped his shoulder. “Don’t make fun of me. I’m serious. I’ve all but laid it on a platter for you.”

  “I’m a careful man, Katie. I don’t want either of us to make a mistake.”

  “You this careful with all the girls you date?”

  He hadn’t answered her question. Maybe he should have. Instead, he’d slipped his hand behind her neck and brought her head close. With his mouth only an inch away from hers, he’d whispered. “Tell me to leave if you don’t want me in your bed, Katie.”

  Her response had been a quick press of her lips against his, and then all talking had been over.

  He’d made quick work of her blouse, skimming it over her head. His hands shook with his eagerness. Her body trembled against his. Lying her down on the sofa, he’d taken his time, careful not to overwhelm her, careful to find every place on her body that made her moan or quiver, starting from her mouth and slowly working downward.

  By the time he’d stroked lips, tongue and fingers down her neck to the tops of her breasts, she’d arched her back to press eagerly into his palm. Latching onto a distended nipple, he’d pulled it into his mouth, gently laving the pink tip with his tongue, circling over and over until her fingers had dug into his scalp and urged him lower.

  Hurried kisses glided along her abdomen, and he paused to push into her belly button and treated it like the precious place between her legs, circling, stroking inward, until she’d keened between tightly clenched jaws and widened her legs, cupping his shoulders with her knees and writhing in slow undulations that lifted her damp, musky scent. And he’d been lost.

  As much time as he’d taken to get her to that point, he couldn’t get his pants off fast enough. He shoved them past his hips, donned a condom and knelt on the floor. He tugged her upward, guided her hips over him with his hands, trying to remember not to dig his fingers too deep into her soft bottom, but needing her slick sex to glide down his cock because he didn’t know how much longer he could hold back.

  She’d gripped his shoulders hard, her eyes wide and a little wild. Her breasts had shivered in front of his lips and he kissed her nipples again, giving each a quick suckle, before wrapping his arms around her back and bringing her down.

  Katie’s inner walls had clutched him in creamy heat, rippling up and down his shaft as he urged her to take him, groaning when she began to glide up and down, slowly at first, and then desperately fast, breathless gasps gusting against his face.

  She’d been so beautiful. Her red hair floating up and down with her helpless movements, her hazel gaze locked with his, until her pussy clamped hard around his cock and her eyes squeezed shut.

  She hadn’t moaned or cried out, but he could feel her come apart, rapid little squeezes rippling along his shaft, her fingernails biting into his shoulders.

  He’d kissed her shoulder. “It’s okay to make some noise.”

  She’d grunted but shook her head, the frown drawn between her eyebrows not worrying him a bit, because he knew she was still deep inside her orgasm. The pulses tugging at him, the slick wash of excitement that lubricated his shaft, had pulled him straight into an orgasm so strong, he’d groaned and pumped upward, spearing into her while she’d watched him with her wild eyes.

  After that night, he’d taken a step back. He didn’t know why. Maybe that little hint of sensual ferocity she’d displayed had taken him aback. He wasn’t sure he really knew her. He didn’t know if he could please her. He’d set her on a pedestal and it had tilted, toppling his preconceptions of what he wanted in a wife and a helpmate. He’d wanted someone like his mother. Someone who could cook. Someone predictable, who’d be there when he needed her, but would be content with what he gave her—children, a nice home, a proud name.

  Cutter had known she was confused, even hurt by his withdrawal, but he thought they’d come far enough that she’d give him time to think and get comfortable with the idea that this sensual creature could be his.

  In the end, she’d shown her true colors, and he told himself again and again that he was glad he hadn’t made the mistake of asking her to marry him.

  A chair scraped beside him, and he turned, frowning as Rowe settled in the seat beside him.

  Rowe cleared his throat. “It’s not any of my business…”

  “Damn straight, it’s not.”

  “Look, I couldn’t help noticing, something wasn’t right… Up there.” Rowe glanced away, then his cheeks billowed as he blew out a deep breath. “Did you hurt Katie?”

  Had he hurt her? Probably not the way the bastard meant. “Mind your own damn business.”

  Rowe speared him with a glance. “She looked ready to cry.”

  Cutter wondered if Rowe knew how close he was to kissing the floor. “She didn’t say no, if that’s what has you worried.”

  “Katie’s good people. I know all about the mistake she made.
But she’s suffered.”

  Cutter arched a brow. “That’s supposed to mean something to me?”

  “You two were pretty close.”

  “I’m not the bad guy here.”

  Rowe nodded then looked out on the dance floor. “Justin regrets ever going near her. You’ve been decent to him about the wedding.”

  “No I haven’t. My sister doesn’t get a thing beyond this party from me.”

  “Dani doesn’t need anything else, but she was happy you stood up for her. Justin wanted me to tell you something…about Katie.”

  Cutter’s fingers squeezed around the slick beer bottle. “I don’t want to hear a goddamn thing about her, especially if it’s coming from him.”

  “He’s not proud of what happened. He’d stopped by the saloon and found Katie crying. She tried to mop up and make a joke about it. But she was hurting. He invited her for a drink.”

  Cutter lowered his brows and aimed a furious glare his way. “Rowe, we’ve known each other a long time, but you aren’t a friend. Walk away now.”

  Rowe gave him a tight smile. “Fact is, I don’t care if you take a swing at me. Dani wants you happy. Justin and I want peace between us. You’re gonna listen here, or we can take it outside where I’ll have to shout it at you.”

  Cutter set the bottle on the table beside him, and eased his fingers from it. The sooner Rowe had his say, the sooner he could get drunk. “Finish it.”

  “It’s true. Justin greased the gears, got her a little drunk and pouring out her heart on his shoulder, and when she finally got mad, he turned it. Made her want a little revenge. He took her to bed.”

  Cutter curled his fists and began to rise.

  Rowe pressed down on his shoulder. “I’m almost done. Just thought you should know. It was just the one time. She didn’t return his calls afterward. Told him to go to hell when he stopped by her cafe. She regretted it. It was a moment of weakness. She was vulnerable to Justin, and he knows how to exploit weakness.”

  Cutter’s lips lifted in a snarl. “And yet you just gave away the girl you love. To him. Don’t you think he manipulated you just a little bit as well?”

  Rowe grunted. “Yeah, I’m sure he did.” He turned to Cutter, his expression softening. “But the secret is, he loves me. I know that creeps you out, but he loves us both. He’s not going anywhere.” Rowe stood and glanced down at Cutter, his expression softening. “What you have to figure out is whether you’re happy alone. Would you rather hold onto your anger for the rest of your life and never know what you might have had with her?” Rowe faced the ballroom and lifted his chin. “Thanks for the wedding, but I have a plane to catch.”

  Cutter grimaced. “Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it—you two—and Dani.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll come around. But we do have a lot to prove to you, and you need to get your head in a better place. Talk to her.”

  Cutter shook his head and lifted his beer. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Katie. He’d shown her exactly where she stood with him. Besides, she’d probably just slam the door in his face.

  Still, he couldn’t forget how she’d looked when she’d moved to embrace him with her legs, her face softened, color blooming in her cheeks, and her gaze glossy and hopeful—until he’d rejected her.

  He’d never thought of himself as a particularly hard man. Was he becoming his father? He’d been tough as nails. Admired by all, but relentless when it came to instilling certain values and an old-fashioned work ethic. He’d wanted to be sure he left the ranch in worthy hands.

  Well, the ranch was still on solid ground when others were faltering with the economic turndown. Cutter wasn’t in hock to his eyeballs, had the cash to spend on shipping in hay to weather another drought.

  So he had the burden of running the ranch squarely on his own two shoulders. He’d hoped Dani would bring them a partner, that she’d at least take over the office management to free him up to do what he liked best. Ride herd.

  Dani might have been willing to fill that role if he hadn’t been so hard-nosed about her marriage. He might still find his own partner, but he hadn’t found a woman smart enough, strong enough to take on the job of a rancher’s wife. He’d thought for a while that it might be Katie, but she’d proven to have feet of clay.

  She’d let that bastard Cruz romance his way into her bed and there was no way he’d ever trust her.

  But it had felt good sliding inside her again—warm, wet, snug. She’d always felt just right lying inside his arms. Maybe she’d be willing to be fuck buddies. It wasn’t as if she was too particular about whom she slept with.

  Maybe he could start with an apology. Not that he’d really mean it. But if it meant he might get some sweet release, with a woman he knew was compatible with him in at least one way…well, why the hell not?

  He set down his beer and nodded to the caterer. She could see to satisfying his guests’ needs. He’d paid enough to ensure that.

  He touched his pockets, glad he’d swiped the keys from his dresser and headed for the door.

  Chapter Three

  Katie didn’t know why she’d decided to open the diner today. She’d posted a note earlier that morning to let customers know that she’d be closed. She could have stayed home, drawn the blinds and wallowed all day in self-pity.

  But she’d been restless. After she’d showered Cutter’s scent from her skin and tossed the blue dress into the trash, she’d automatically donned her jeans and Katie’s Diner T-shirt and headed out the door.

  She’d let the staff go for the day. So she was the sole waitress, cashier and cook. Not that she’d been busy since she’d flipped the Open sign. Her only customer so far was Ole Win, whom she’d told yesterday not to come, but maybe the habit was too ingrained. He came every day, ordered the same meal, then read his paper while he downed a pot of coffee, which she kept fresh.

  Already he’d told her another one of his stories about the old days in Two Mule, before the roads were paved, when men still tied horses to a hitching rail in front of the saloon.

  Not that she minded the chatter. She enjoyed his stories most days, but today her mind wandered, back to the wedding and that awful moment when Cutter had thrust inside her a little too hard and fast and made it crystal clear she’d never have a chance at earning a place back in his life.

  Not that he’d hurt her physically, not really. Her body had been primed, her pussy melting and caressing his length the whole time he’d fucked her.

  She wouldn’t allow herself to use a prettier description for what he’d done, what she’d invited. She’d had the crazy notion that if she could get them in the same room, stripped of clothing and old resentments that maybe he’d give her a second chance.

  Cutter wasn’t willing. He’d only taken what she’d offered. Without strings.

  She couldn’t feel ashamed about what she’d allowed to happen because she’d needed so badly to touch him. However, now, she thought that maybe she was ready to let go.

  The bell above the door chimed and she glanced over her shoulder then did a double-take because Cutter was striding through the door, his hard gaze pinning her like a butterfly to a display board.

  Katie stiffened and cast a quick glance toward Win, who’d perked up in his chair and was following Cutter’s progress as he made his way toward her. No doubt even the old codger was aware of the rumors that surrounded her and Cutter’s demise as a couple. Now the old tattletale would have another story to add to his arsenal.

  “We have to talk.”

  Katie gave Cutter her back and swiped a table she’d already cleaned, determined to ignore the heat she felt prickle up and down her spine. “You already made your point,” she muttered. “There’s nothing left to discuss.”

  “Let’s not do this here,” he said, laying his hand over hers and the soggy dishcloth.

  She slipped her hand from underneath his and pressed it against her stomach before turning, then took a step backward because she hadn’t
realized he’d come so close.

  His thighs rubbed up against her, and she drew a deep breath, leaning back to prevent his chest from touching hers.

  Too late. Her breasts were already aching, her nipples spiking against her bra. Thank God she wore an apron or he’d know her body was a lot happier than she was to see him here.

  His fingers latched around her wrist, and he tugged her behind him, heading toward the kitchen door.

  “Let go. This is getting old, Cutter. You can’t drag me around like a dog on a leash.”

  “Bitch on a leash,” he murmured.

  “What did you just say?”

  He halted and faced her, standing so close again, his warm breaths washed over her face. “Dammit, Katie, don’t fight me. All I want to do is talk and I don’t want an audience.”

  Maybe he’d come to apologize, but his thighs rubbed hers again, and she felt his cock, thickening under his jeans.

  She glared, and then peeked around his shoulder at Ole Win, who was pretending to read his paper, but glancing their way over the top of his reading glasses. “In the kitchen then, but make this quick.”

  He followed her, so close he bumped her backside when she paused to lift the counter ledge. The kitchen door swung and Cutter pushed her forward, toward the walk-in freezer in the back.

  At least the cold would keep their clothes in place and the conversation short. She opened it and swung around as he followed her inside, ducking because he was taller than the ceiling height.

  Frozen puffs of breath, short and fast, gave away her agitation. “Can we get this over with?”

  Cutter raked a hand through his short-cropped hair. “Why’d you leave in such a hurry?”

  Katie planted her hands on her hips. “We were through.”

  “Maybe I wasn’t.”

  “So sad,” she said, in a singsong tone.

  His gaze narrowed. “You seein' anyone?”

  “You think I’d have let you do that if I was?” Then she had the grace to blush. She’d done just that to him.

 

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