“Are you sure you want one from me?” Jeez, he couldn’t believe he’d just asked that. “What I mean is—”
“That’s okay.” She backed away, deeper into the water. “I knew it was silly. Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t want you to do anything you don’t want—”
Ignoring the familiar feeling of water in his shoes, Dean reached Priscilla in three steps and pulled her into his arms, aware once again of how perfectly her curves fit along every inch of his body. He crooked his elbow around her waist and tunneled the fingers of his other hand into her hair, tilting her head upward until their eyes met. The moonlight allowed him to see her surprise but also the desire in her gaze. He wanted to prolong this moment, to let the anticipation build, but when she moistened her lips with the sweep of her tongue, he was lost.
Slanting his mouth over hers, he forced himself to keep the kiss light and simple when deep inside there was nothing simple about this woman. Her low groan reached his ears at the same moment as her fingers grabbed at his shirt, her hands curling into tight fists. Still, he resisted the urge to pull her hard against his chest and deepen the kiss. Then the tip of her tongue danced along the seam of his lips. Powerless to ignore her request, he allowed her entrance and met her halfway with a silken stroke of his own. He loved how she tasted like a hint of vanilla. Fire and passion flared between them as she returned his kiss, spurring the almost uncontrollable need that spread through his blood.
He finally pulled back to gulp down a couple of breaths. Not wanting to let her go, he tucked her head beneath his chin as she wrapped her arms around his back. They stood like that for a long moment while he struggled to regain his composure.
“Happy Birthday, Priscilla,” he finally said, his words a rough whisper.
Her only response was her steady breathing, and the slackening of her embrace forced him to tighten his own grip to keep her upright. He gave a rueful shake of his head when he realized what had happened.
His princess had fallen asleep.
* * *
As hard as she tried to ignore the bright light pressing against her eyelids, it was the heavenly scent of freshly brewed coffee that forced Priscilla to accept the need to wake up. That and the fact that it felt as if she was sleeping on a rock.
She rolled over, the scratchy feel of the blanket against her skin unfamiliar. Placing her hand over her eyes, she managed to open one just a slit and, through spread fingers, took in the large desk surrounded by log walls directly in front of her.
Where was she? And why did her head feel as if a thousand horses were galloping across her brain?
“Good morning, sunshine.” A pair of jean-clad legs stepped into her line of vision. “Time to rise and greet a beautiful new day.”
Familiar legs. Familiar voice. Familiar office.
Priscilla groaned and closed her eyes again despite the heavenly aroma that was even closer now. “Please tell me that coffee’s heavily laced with low-fat cream and three sugars.”
“Sorry. I should’ve known you’d like it sweet, but this is strictly black.”
“I don’t care.” It felt as if her head weighed twice her total body weight, but she managed to push herself into a sitting position. “Hand it over.”
“Please?”
She forced her eyes open again in time to watch the wool blanket slip from her lap, revealing that she was wearing the same outfit she’d put on to go out with the girls—
Oh, boy. So that’s what happened last night.
Looking up, she found Dean leaning against his desk, holding two mugs of steaming coffee in his hands, a smile on his too-handsome face. His hair was damp, as if he’d just finished taking a shower, but how could that be? And what had he asked from her again? All she could focus on at the moment was her body’s need for caffeine. “I am so hoping one of those is for me...please.”
He handed her a mug.
She inhaled the enticing fragrance, already feeling the java work its magic. “I can’t believe how much I had to drink last night. I haven’t done that in years.”
“From what I could tell—”
She winced and held up a hand in a silent plea.
“From what I’ve heard, you enjoyed yourself,” Dean continued in a softer tone laced with humor. “Something about birthday-cake shots?”
Yes, last night’s activities were coming back to her, but that didn’t explain how she ended up sleeping on a couch in Dean’s office at the camp’s health center. She remembered being better at drinking than line dancing and then giving Leeann a hug goodbye in the bar’s parking lot. Dean had been there, too, just like he was here now, but why had he brought her out to the camp instead of taking her back to the inn?
“I don’t understand. How did we end up here?”
Dean’s hand stilled as he was about to take a sip. He lowered the mug away from his mouth. “You don’t remember what we did?”
Her mouth went dry. What they did? “I remember being with the girls, meeting up with you and Bobby in the parking lot.” Priscilla fought hard for the memories. “Riding in your truck...”
“That’s it?” The humor in his eyes and the smile on his face vanished as her voice faded. “You don’t recall anything that happened after that?”
A blinding panic filled her. Had she done something stupid? Pulled a Jacqueline-size scandal? Something that this time was entirely her fault? “Please tell me I didn’t do anything wrong or embarrassing or—”
“Relax, you didn’t.” Dean took a sip from his mug and continued, “Even if you had, nobody in Destiny would care one way or the other.”
Maybe not in Destiny, but there were plenty of people who’d love to catch her in a bumbling or awkward moment that would be featured on entertainment news shows or websites. Relief flowed through her veins as she placed the mug to her lips and took a small sip of the potent liquid. “Thank goodness, but that still doesn’t explain what I’m doing in your office.”
“You really don’t remember the two of us down by the lake? Talking? Your birthday wish?”
“My birthday...” She pressed her fingertips to the spot between her eyes where it felt as if the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra was playing Mozart’s Rondo Alla Turca at twice the normal speed. “I made a birthday wish?”
As soon as the words moved past her lips, it came back to her how she had indeed done exactly that yesterday afternoon when Dean had so sweetly offered her the opportunity thanks to a store-bought cupcake and a wooden match.
“Yes, of course, I remember making a wish—but I didn’t tell you— Oh!” The mug tilted and the coffee splashed precariously against the rim. She sat it on the small table in front of her with a thud and covered her eyes with her hands. “Oh, no! I did tell you! I did more than tell you. I asked you to make my wish come true.”
“Oh, you did.” Wry amusement laced his voice. “It’s nice to know it was so memorable.”
It had been that and more. Piece by piece the memories of her actions last night came flooding back. The two of them by the water, sharing stories about childhood wishes, and then her suddenly being brave enough to tell him what she’d really wished for on that cupcake.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she relived the panic when she thought he was turning her down. The passion that had engulfed her when he’d pulled her into his arms and put his mouth over hers. The kiss had started out soft and sweet, tentative, even, but when she’d sensed he was pulling away, she’d been the one to take things to the next level. With a quick swipe of her tongue, she’d asked for more and he’d readily complied, and that simple kiss had become something sensual and exciting and overpowering until the overwhelming need for air—
How could she have forgotten a single second of that amazing moment?
“I can’t believe I did that,” she muttered. “Alcohol and
losing one’s inhibitions are never a good mix.”
“Boy, you sure know how to stroke a guy’s ego.”
Dropping her hands, she clutched at her bare knees and forced herself to look him in the eye, despite the pounding in her head and the embarrassment burning through her veins. “This isn’t about your ego. This is about self-respect. And I always, always carry myself with grace and dignity. Because of a few shots of alcohol, I forgot everything I swore to myself and could have made a huge mistake.”
Like Jacqueline repeatedly did.
Hadn’t she cleaned up enough of her sister’s messes to know she had to always be focused? Yes, she was in Destiny. No paparazzi lurking in nearby bushes...but still. One trip in the headlines was enough for her, and the last thing she wanted was Dean’s picture plastered all over the place, under bold print that read “Drunken Rejected Sister’s Rebound.”
She covered her face again and moaned.
“Don’t worry about it, princess.” He took another long swallow from his mug. “No harm, no foul, no big deal.”
No big deal.
The casualness of his tone was like a sharp slice to her gut. Priscilla staggered to her feet, the need to escape the laughter in his eyes wreaking havoc on her stomach.
Because to her—someone who’d been on the receiving end of damaging, impulsive behavior—it was a very big deal.
Chapter Nine
“Gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please. We plan to start in just a few minutes.”
Priscilla spoke into the microphone attached to the podium on the left side of the stage at the Blue Creek Saloon. She looked over the crowded dance floor. There were a few ladies here and there, but the majority of the people in the bar on this Sunday afternoon were the bachelors for the auction that was only five days away. This was the second of two planned rehearsals. Leeann had thought the run-throughs might help the men feel more comfortable if they knew what was expected from them when the big night arrived.
But not all the bachelors had shown up. Dean was nowhere to be found.
He’d missed the first rehearsal for a perfectly valid reason. Bobby had explained that his absence then and around the camp all last week was due to a patient of his who was going through a difficult period, resulting in Dean being called away to the veterans’ center in Cheyenne.
Was that why he wasn’t here this afternoon? Or could it be something else?
She’d seen him this morning at church—granted, it had been from across the sanctuary, as he’d chosen not to sit with her, Bobby and Leeann. Yes, it’d been crowded in the row where they sat, but they could’ve made room for him. She’d tried not to take it personally, but ever since that morning when she’d made it clear how dismayed she’d been after remembering the kiss they’d shared—the kiss she’d asked for—they seemed to be back to square one when it came to being...friends?
More than friends?
She had no idea. All she knew was that she had embarrassed herself even further that morning by bolting for the bathroom. If she could’ve stayed hidden in there for hours she probably would have, but she’d left Snake alone all night at the inn and had needed to get back to him.
“I think we should get started now,” Leeann said, pulling Priscilla from her thoughts as she joined her on the stage. “Most of the men who couldn’t make it last time are here today and we have some that are back a second time. Perhaps Dean got caught up in saying goodbye to our latest group of campers.”
“I thought maybe he might have gone to Cheyenne again.”
Leeann frowned. “I suppose, but Bobby said something when we left church this morning about the two of them working on a project at the camp this afternoon. I’ve texted them, but neither has replied.”
Priscilla nodded. This past week had been so much fun as Camp Diamond once again hosted local children. She’d helped out in the stables most days, with Holly by her side more often than not. The young girl had talked about Dean constantly, which matched Priscilla’s relentless thoughts about the man as she tried to come to terms with her schoolgirl reaction to his kiss.
But Holly had really surprised her one day when she’d asked if there was an age limit on who could bid at the auction. At first, Priscilla thought perhaps she was going to bid on someone for her mother. Holly had giggled and said no, her mama was happily married even though Holly’s dad was currently serving overseas with the army. As it turned out, Holly was looking to empty her piggy bank and place a bid on Dean for herself.
“Priscilla, did you hear me?” Leeann asked.
Shaking off the memory, Priscilla nodded. “Yes, of course.”
She gripped her leather portfolio, turned the microphone over to Leeann and walked down the stairs to the dance floor, finding her steps a bit wobbly, as she was once again wearing high heels, having come here directly from church. Only this time her outfit was a simple cotton sundress with a matching lightweight cardigan sweater she’d picked up at a local shop. Today was the first time she’d worn a dress and heels in the past week, and while she wasn’t uncomfortable, the desire to slip into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt was strong.
No matter her outfit, Priscilla felt more like herself as long as she concentrated on her job: the upcoming auction. “We covered some of what I’m about to say at the last rehearsal, but as everyone wasn’t able to attend, please indulge me as I go over the basics again,” she said, addressing the men directly. “We’ll be handing out a list of the available bachelors with short bios and descriptions of your date packages to everyone who signs up to bid, and Leeann, our hostess and auctioneer for the evening, will be reading this information aloud when it’s your turn.”
She gestured toward the stage, using the moment to let her gaze sweep over the room as she still looked for Dean.
Leeann waved at everyone. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you all sound good.”
Good-natured laughter rippled through the crowd. Priscilla waited for it to fade before she continued, “We are taking the traditional route with the auction, so bidders will be shouting out their dollar amounts, and of course, you all are welcome to encourage the ladies. But please be aware the event will be open to people of all ages.” She thought back to Holly’s plan. “We need to keep that in mind in case things get a little—”
“Rowdy?” one of the men offered with a grin.
“Yes, a perfect word. Rowdy,” Priscilla said, smiling as the crowd’s applause showed they agreed. “There will be time after the auction for socializing and to allow the bachelors and their winners to meet and perhaps set up a time and date to get together. As for who goes when, the committee is still deciding the order, mainly to mix up your professions so we don’t have all the cowboys grouped together.”
“Except for me,” Willie Perkins, a cowboy who’d worked at Maggie Cartwright’s ranch for the past fifty-plus years, called out from the center of the room. “This ol’ cowboy is the first offering.”
“Age before beauty,” Liam Murphy joked, causing everyone to laugh.
“You’re darn tootin’. I want to hook me a date before all you young bucks get out there and take all their money, leaving nothing for me.”
Willie had celebrated his seventy-fifth birthday a few months ago, and according to Maggie, he still put in a full workday at her ranch. Priscilla had already been informed by the committee that there were quite a few members of the senior-citizen crowd who planned to bid on the gangly cowboy with his weathered skin and big smile.
“Yes, of course, Willie, you’ll be first. Now, there will be a runway set up Friday night that will lead directly off the stage and out into the crowd,” Priscilla continued, pointing toward the large rectangular outline taped in the middle of the dance floor. “Each bachelor will walk down three steps from the stage to the runway, continue on to the end, pause for a moment and then return back to whe
re he started. If there’s time, you’re welcome to make a repeat journey.”
“Let the ladies get a good look at the goods, right?”
“Or give them a chance to change their minds!”
“Hey, do you mind if we have a side bet on which one of us brings in the most money?”
Priscilla was glad to see the men were enjoying being part of the event. Some had seemed a bit shy about participating, but everyone knew all the money raised would be going to the camp, and the town had really stepped up to make this a great evening.
“Why don’t we have the bachelors line up off to my right and we’ll do a quick walk-through? After your turn, you’re free to go. We’ll see you back here Friday evening.”
* * *
“I bet you can still make it to the rehearsal in time.”
Dean ignored his friend while pretending to double check the safety harness he wore. He and Bobby had been working on the camp’s challenge course, inspecting every rope, wire and fitting. They were twenty feet in the air, working on the last platform while Daisy supervised safely from the ground below.
“Or you could just continue giving me the silent treatment for the rest of the afternoon.” Bobby leaned over and thumped Dean’s helmet and then pointed to where Daisy marched back and forth, letting out a mournful howl every now and then. “Look, even your dog is worried. What’s bothering you? Is it Branson?”
Even though he was officially on vacation for two weeks, Dean had made sure his patient and the staff at the veterans’ center knew they could contact him anytime day or night if needed. There had been a few calls and Dean had either spoken to or gone back down to see Branson, seeing as how the young man had opened up to Dean more than anyone else when it came to his recent troubles.
“No, he seems to have turned a corner,” Dean said, relieved that the kid had finally decided the best way to get over his wife leaving him was to be happy and healthy. “And Daisy is just worried that if something happens to me she won’t know where her next meal is coming from.”
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