Always on My Mind (The Dawson Brothers, #1)

by Jessica Mills

  "Well, you look like you are heading out for some fun this evening. Care for a little bit of company?"

  I set my jaw and put on my best polite smile. "No, thanks. I'm actually just going to the store."

  "The grocery is just up the road a bit, but that's been closed for a couple of hours now. Sam has to get home early to take care of his wife. She's not from the neon section of the Crayola box if you know what I mean," he said with a laugh that made me even more uncomfortable. "Just not all there. He should be showing back up there around six or so in the morning, though."

  "That's good to know. What I need is a clothing store. I'm realizing that I might not have packed wisely."

  What I had packed for was what I thought was going to be a life-changing combination of professional glory and hooking up with the man who was now my former employer, and had turned out absolutely nothing like that. I didn't feel the need to share that with him, though. Unlike me, and apparently Sam's wife, we just weren't close enough to get into the nitty-gritty details of our lives.

  "There's a little clothing store up on Main Street."

  "Perfect," I said, starting toward the door.

  "But that's closed too."

  "When does it open again?"

  "Well," he said slowly, looking off into the distance like he was trying to remember something important. "They closed up round about 1985, so I don't think there are any immediate plans for reopening."

  I sighed and walked back toward him. "Where does everybody around here get their clothes?"

  *

  Fifteen minutes later, I was back behind the wheel of my car, muttering a string of creative obscenities and slurs as I started my 40-mile journey to the nearest discount big box store. I could only hope that I would also find a gas station sometime soon because my poor little compact car was riding on fumes.

  Fortunately I found a 24-hour convenience store. I pulled up to the pump and discovered that it didn't take credit cards so I had to actually go inside. It seemed that the local teenagers swarmed to the store like moths to a garish fluorescent flame. I wound my way through several groups of them before finally making it inside so I could pay.

  I asked for directions to the store just to confirm I was going in the right direction and found out that Norm's version of "around forty miles or so" meant fifty-five. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a glazed doughnut to fuel me through my journey. Landing David as my client would be worth the extra squats I would have to do.

  *

  The next morning came far too soon after my several-hour jaunt into the wonderful world of shopping for clothing in the middle of nowhere, and I groaned pathetically as the alarm clock prodded me into consciousness. I dressed in my new clothes and started toward the ranch.

  Maybe yesterday was the day that they did all of the heavy lifting and chasing and tagging, and today would be stroll casually through the cornfields discussing hopes and dreams and successful musical careers day. The fact that David already had his shirt off and was glistening with sweat by the time I got there did not bode well for my hopes.

  Muscles that looked like they were chiseled from granite and a few tattoos that would make the perfect exploration from my tongue, however, made the situation much more agreeable. He took off his hat and combed his fingers back through his damp hair before glancing up and noticing me.

  His lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile as he let his eyes scan up and down my body, taking in the tight jeans, white tank top, and fitted plaid shirt that was like a tiny version of his outfit from the day before. I had finished the look off with a pair of dark brown construction boots since I hadn't been able to find any cowboy boots that were above toddler size. I had my hair up in a ponytail, which felt silly, but whatever. I was ready to take on the day.

  "You look fucking adorable," he said and my heart fluttered. "Useless, but adorable."

  Flutter gone.

  "What do you mean 'useless'?" I asked, jogging towards him as he put his hat back on and started toward the barn in the near distance. "We haven't even started yet. How do you know that I'm useless?"

  "You might not have started yet, but we've been working since before sunrise."

  Damn. I had barely dropped my bags to the floor and crawled back into bed at sunrise. I felt accomplished with myself for having arrived at the ranch by eight thirty.

  "Oh. Well, I'm here now. Let's talk."

  He swung a massive piece of wood up onto his shoulder, and picked up what I assumed was a box of tools.

  "If you want to talk, you know the rules," he said as he walked toward his horse and dropped the wood and tools onto the trailer behind it.

  "Yes, I do," I said, scurrying after him. "Hence the outfit."

  I got to the side of his horse and hesitated. As much as I would like to have my legs wrapped around him, even more so now in his current state of partial nudity, I was not looking forward to another ride with both of us on the same horse. I figured I could walk alongside him while he rode, but if I wanted to live past Tuesday and make it back to Tennessee, roaming across the fields on foot for the entire day was probably not the best plan.

  "Have you ever ridden a horse?" he asked.

  "Yes. Yesterday."

  "Never before?"

  "I rode a pony at the pumpkin patch when I was little."

  He laughed and gestured at someone behind him.

  I turned around and saw a slightly younger, gruffer-looking version of David guiding a horse toward me.

  "You're going to learn today."

  "Yay!" I tried to sound enthusiastic about it, but failed miserably.

  David moved around to help me up onto the saddle, his hand coming up to grab my ass as he lifted.

  I shot him a look, and he grinned in that flabbergasted little boy way that some men seem to have. It was disarming and seductive all at once.

  He climbed up onto his horse, and we started riding. It was a little touch and go at first, but after a few minutes I got into enough of a rhythm that I could speak without falling off.

  "So how well known are you around here?" I asked.

  "Pretty well known, I guess. People come all the way out from Perryville to hear me."

  "How far is that?"

  "About ten miles."

  I must have given him a strange look because he suddenly looked defensive.

  "Hey, that's a long way to go when you're on a tractor."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Some of the boys figure that they can drink if they're on a tractor because they aren't really driving." I stared at him blankly and he grinned. "I'm kidding. They don't drive tractors. Except Steven."

  He said the last part with a sigh and a subtle shake of his head.

  "How many people usually come out?"

  "Last week we had about forty-six. Three of them were asleep. Well, one of them was technically dead there for a couple of minutes. That happens a lot, though. We just have to kind of pop him one in the chest and he wakes back up just fine. He's eighty-six and isn't supposed to be drinking. He owns the bar, though, so we can't tell him not to. Every time it happens he just kind of picks back up on the story he was telling. I'm telling you, though, Jesus is coming for him one of these days, and soon."

  I couldn’t help but stare at him with my mouth hanging open. People couldn’t make this kind of shit up. They just couldn’t.

  *

  We had fixed three fences, checked in on a sick cow, sprayed some weeds, and I had made another unsuccessful attempt at picking up a bale of hay when I heard a loud bell clanging in the distance.

  "Time for lunch," he told me, getting back on his horse. "Come meet my mama."

  Butterflies danced in my stomach again.

  We rode back toward the house and he helped me down, holding me in his arms off the ground for just a few seconds longer than he needed to. When my feet touched down again I had to fight the urge to stroke my hands down his chest and the ripples of his abs.

  "Put a shi
rt on before you come in this house," a woman who I assumed was “mama” said from the porch before heading back inside.

  David grabbed a shirt from the fence post and slipped it on as he led me toward the house. We stepped through the door and were immediately confronted by a row of people staring at us. I stepped back slightly, but he put his hand on my lower back and guided me forward.

  "This is my family. Everybody, this is Sarah. She's an agent from Tennessee."

  His mother looked me up and down in that scathing way all good Southern women have mastered by the time they are three.

  "You don't look like an agent," she mumbled.

  "Thank you," I replied. "That's what I was going for."

  Chapter 5

  David

  I couldn't stop looking at Sarah during lunch, which Mom made easier for me by forcing her to sit across the table between two of my brothers. They both glanced at her out of the corners of their eyes every few seconds, but she didn't seem to notice. Instead, she kept glancing up at me, the green of her eyes intense in the sunlight coming through the window behind me.

  I hadn't been lying when she first showed up that morning. She was damn adorable. It was funny to see her out of the prissy little suit, but I loved how she looked wearing jeans that might as well have been painted on, and a white tank top that let me glimpse the lace of her bra underneath as it played peek-a-boo.

  It was hard as hell to concentrate on eating, which wasn't a good thing considering how much work I still had left to do. I finally gave up and grabbed a roll from the basket in the center of the table before standing up.

  "I'm heading back out."

  Sarah set her fork down and followed me without much hesitation. I had to admit that I liked having her coming after me. Even though she said she was trying to talk to me about singing and coming back with her to Tennessee so I could get into a studio to cut a demo, I wasn't holding my breath that I was going to get anything more out of her than the fun of having her scurrying along behind me and watching her ride a horse.

  That was my favorite part of the day, and I made sure I was always positioned beside her so that I could either pull back a bit and watch her hips rolling in the saddle, or get ahead of her a bit and watch her breasts subtly bouncing from the front.

  Either way it was making doing my chores much more enjoyable.

  She seemed to be getting the hang of riding and was even almost helpful when it came to fixing the last fence of the evening. I was disappointed when the supper bell rang, and she said she was going to head back to the hotel instead of joining us again.

  "Are you singing tonight?" she asked, pushing her hands down into her back pockets in a way that emphasized her sweet curves. She pushed her chest toward me just enough that I could see a bead of sweat trickle down her shirt, sliding between her pert breasts and disappearing into the almost translucent tank top.

  "I am," I answered.

  She gave me a tempting smile and briefly licked her bottom lip with just the tip of her tongue. "Then I guess I'll see you tonight."

  Without another word, she turned and walked down our meandering drive toward wherever she had parked her car. As much as I had enjoyed the flailing and wiggle that her high heels had caused the day before, I found that I much preferred the smooth sway of her hips when she walked in boots.

  *

  "Where’d your little groupie go?" Ted asked when I walked into the dining room.

  They were all already sitting around the dining table and they were looking expectantly beside me. "She had to head back toward town."

  "Did you get any of your chores done today with her around?" Mama asked.

  "I got everything done just fine. She actually helped me with some of it."

  "She helped you?" Luke, the next brother down from Ted, asked incredulously.

  "Well," I said, trying not to backpedal too much. "She tried. She's never been on a ranch before."

  "What was she doing here, then? None of the girls that your brother’s date ever show up and wander around after them while they work." My mom lifted her eyebrow sharply.

  "I'm not dating her," I protested. "She's an agent. She was impressed with my singing and wants to represent me."

  "How did some agent from Tennessee hear about you going and playing with your friends at Kinsey's?"

  "That was supportive. Thank you, Mom." I pursed my lips, trying to hold back my angst.

  "Well, honey, it just seems odd to me. She doesn’t look like any of the girls from around here..."

  "That's because she's not from around here."

  "...and it seems strange that she just showed up all of a sudden and wants to represent you."

  "She was driving through the area and got lost. She ended up at Norm's hotel and came by the bar to get a drink. I was singing that night. It's not that odd."

  "She just wandered into a bar to have a drink all by herself?"

  Mom slid her eyes over at Dad. It was one of those unspoken married people conversations and he knew exactly what she was saying...what kind of woman just walks into a strange bar to drink by herself?

  "Women drink, Mom. You should know."

  Mom looked horrified and I saw Dad's back straighten stiffly.

  "I have an occasional glass of wine and maybe some rum during the holidays. That is not the same thing as going and sitting by myself at a bar full of strange men. It puts out the wrong message, and it could put her in a compromising situation. I just don't want you to get all caught up with this silly dream of yours and not know when a woman is trying to take advantage of you."

  "Trying to take advantage of me? What exactly could she be trying to take advantage of? My illustrious position as a hand on my daddy's ranch?"

  "You should be proud of your family's legacy," Dad said, his voice rough in the way it always got when he was feeling defensive and trying to withhold his emotions. "Generations have worked hard to make sure that this ranch stays afloat and gives this family everything that it needs."

  "So because other people have wanted something and worked for it, I should automatically not have any dreams of my own or want to pursue them."

  "Having dreams is fine, son, but singing isn't a dream, it's a distraction. People don't just go from singing in their local bar to a bunch of ranch hands and good old boys to being famous."

  "You mean I don't," I said. "I don't have much of an appetite. I'm just going to go to the bar."

  I walked out of the house without waiting for them to respond, and for the second time in three days I headed directly to Kinsey's. I’d just eat there in good company.

  *

  I drove slowly as my thoughts moved about, each one making me feel more undone than the last. My stomach growled angrily by the time I pulled up to the bar, and I made my way inside and made a bee line for Lucy.

  “Hey. Can I get you to order me a burger? I’m starving.” I rubbed my stomach and gave her a sexy smile.

  She blushed and shook her head. “Yeah, and ain’t nobody falling for your charms today.”

  “No? Damn.” I sat down and sagged against the bar, feeling deflated. I was a grown man, yet a few harsh words from my parents could still knock me down.

  "You don’t look so good. Everything okay?" Lucy settled the hamburger in front of me and grabbed a bottle of ketchup to set beside me. She worked on getting me a beer as I glanced up and answered.

  "I'll be fine. Just one of those days."

  “I understand more than you know.” She set a beer down in front of me and walked across the room to a group of old-timers on the other side of the bar.

  "You come here often?" Sarah’s soft voice caught my attention.

  My stomach clenched with the sultry, purring note that hadn't been there before. I turned around in my stool and was thankful for the bar behind me because if it hadn't been there, it was entirely possible I would have fallen off the edge.

  Sarah had traded her jeans and plaid for a black dress that stopped at mid-thig
h, nipped in at her waist, and dipped low enough to show a mouthwatering amount of cleavage. Smoky makeup made her eyes stand out even more, and a slick of dark red lipstick made me want to lean in and bite her full bottom lip. Before I could think more on it, Sam came on the microphone and introduced me.

  I ran my knuckles along her cheek and jogged up to the stage.

  She was settling into place on the barstool I had just vacated, and I took my place in front of the microphone. I saw her gaze up at me and cross her legs, giving me a view of the sexy as hell spike heels buckled at her ankles with narrow straps.

  As I sang, she dipped her finger into my beer and sucked off the suds. I hoped the growl suddenly present in my voice enhanced the song though it didn’t matter if it did. She had a way about her that left my blood suddenly boiling. I needed to do more than talk to the pretty agent about the future.

  She watched me make my way through my set list and seemed so focused on me that she didn't notice Norm walking up behind her.

  I tried to signal her with my eyes, but before she caught on to my gesture, he grabbed the back of her barstool and spun her around to face him. Her hands gripped the sides of the stool to stabilize herself, and I saw her shaking her head.

  Norm leaned close to her and a shot of anger pumped through my chest. I finished the song as quickly as I could, thanked the audience for their smattering of applause, and jumped down from the edge of the stage. Pushing through the crowd, I got to Sarah as quickly as I could.

  She was trying to brush Norm off calmly, but he wasn't seeming to get the hint. I stepped up beside her and squared my chest.

  "How're you doing tonight, Norm?" I asked.

  Sarah turn slightly so that her body was directed more toward me.

  "I'm all right," Norm grunted his reply.

  "That's good."

  We stood in stiff silence for a few seconds and Norm stepped back, his eyes flickering between me and Sarah before walking away. Sarah exhaled and rested her head against my arm.

  "Well, I have to give it to him, he's persistent," she said.

  I turned the barstool so that she faced me and helped her down. Sam had turned on some music and I drew her into my arms, swaying slowly.