Austin: Second Chance Cowboy

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Austin: Second Chance Cowboy Page 12

by Shelley Galloway


  What she wanted to do was ask him how taking her out could make anything better. Or maybe she should remind him that they didn’t have a lot in common.

  But she’d never been weak. And she was tired of being everything to everyone and pretty much failing nonstop.

  “I could handle it.”

  To her pleasure, he looked pleased. “Tonight?”

  “I can do tonight. As long as nothing around here goes to hell.”

  “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Prime Rib and Fish House.”

  “That’s kind of fancy, Austin.”

  “I’m that kind of guy, Dinah.” He raised a brow. “Or have you already forgotten?”

  He’d done it. He’d made her forget what they were talking about and what she was thinking. At the moment, she couldn’t think of a single thing.

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “And don’t you go and wait outside for me, neither. You wait on the other side of your door and wait for me to knock like a gentleman.”

  “How did you know I usually wait outside?”

  “Could be that I can do a little bit of detective work, too, darling.”

  Flummoxed, she turned on her heel and left. Really wishing all of the sudden that there was another clothing store in Roundup besides Austin’s store.

  Because it would’ve been so nice to expend a little bit of her nervousness on some retail therapy.

  * * *

  HE GOT TO HER PLACE A FULL ten minutes early. Because he didn’t trust her to wait inside for him, and no way did he want people to say he couldn’t act like a gentleman if he wanted to.

  As he headed up the walkway to the fussy Victorian, Austin took note of shades of cream and pink and beige on the curlicues that bordered the long porch lining the front of the house.

  Thinking about Dinah living in such a place amused him. She was so businesslike and tough. She wore a hard armor to excel in her job, and Austin had to admit that her attitude worked. So far, he hadn’t seen anyone give her lip. He didn’t think it was just because of her office, either. No, there were always men who would risk flirting with a pretty girl, no matter what her occupation.

  He grinned as he climbed the steps up to her second-story apartment, imagining the time she would give a man intent on showing her disrespect.

  She opened the door before he had a chance to knock. “Austin, what are you smiling about?”

  He walked in when it looked as if she was about to slip out before he even had a moment to pause on her front stoop. “I was just thinking about you,” he murmured. Not really ready to start thinking about her as a sheriff again.

  She looked a little worried. “What about me makes you smile?”

  With any other woman, that would have been an invitation for a compliment. But with Dinah, she really did look worried. He would’ve given her a slew of practiced phrases, but two things caught him off guard.

  The first was she was standing in front of him in a dress.

  The second was that she was living in a room so creamy-white and soft he might have thought it was how heaven was decorated.

  “This is pretty,” he said, closing her front door behind him. “Where did you get all this stuff?”

  Dinah looked down at her feet. “Oh, here and there. Garage sales.”

  He touched the bleached-white table, just big enough for two, before looking at the tiny kitchen featuring stainless-steel appliances. “This is a fairly fancy setup.”

  “It is. Just as poor Mrs. Jackson got these rooms fixed up, the bottom fell out of the real-estate market. She couldn’t sell it, and I was able to rent a room here real cheap.”

  As if his feet had minds of their own, he peeked into her bedroom. The carpet was the only color in the expanse of white. Suddenly, he had a vision of lying with her on that bed. Her dark hair would look beautiful against the white sheets. And her compact, slim body?

  He could only imagine how her skin would glow in the morning sun.

  From behind him, she cleared her throat. “I guess all this girly stuff is kind of unexpected, huh?”

  Feeling his way, he shook his head. “No. I think it’s real nice, Dinah.”

  “Between the rodeos and the ranch and the sheriff’s office…I get tired of being in a man’s world.”

  “I could imagine that. There’s nothing wrong with you being a girl, Dinah.”

  “Hey, now.”

  “Oh, I know. I’m supposed to call you ‘woman’ or ‘sheriff,’ or who knows what. But I like seeing you in a dress, and I like the idea of you going to sleep in a place that reminds me of a cloud bank.”

  Her mouth opened then shut. Kind of like a guppy.

  He saved her. “Ready? For dinner?”

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  “Let’s go, then.” After she locked her door, he held out his arm for her to take. And wonder of wonders, she took his elbow even though she didn’t need to. He escorted her down the back steps and to her side of his truck.

  For the first time in a long while, he felt he was worth something.

  All because a woman like her was choosing to spend some of her precious free time going out with a man like him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Austin didn’t consume a single drop of alcohol at the restaurant. He didn’t say a word about missing it, either. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even look upset that she’d gone ahead and had a glass of wine.

  To her surprise, he hadn’t asked her to dance when a lot of the couples took to the floor in between their main course and dessert. He hadn’t had dessert, either.

  He hadn’t asked about her job, hadn’t asked about why she’d stopped barrel racing and hadn’t pried into her family’s business even once.

  In short, going on a date with Austin wasn’t much like anything she’d thought it would be. She’d imagined he would be a little loud, maybe a little full of funny stories about life on the rodeo circuit. She’d imagined that he’d lean a little too close and talk just a tiny bit suggestively.

  Going out with Austin was starting to feel a lot like going out with one of her brothers—only there was less teasing. And Colt would have at least line danced.

  But instead, Austin was kind of quiet. He seemed pleased to let her lead the conversation, even when all she was talking about was a ballistics class she’d taken a few years back in Bozeman. He looked happy to talk about horses and the latest movies. He didn’t even seem to mind talking about their rodeo days or his latest events.

  In fact, he seemed content to talk about everything and anything…and nothing at all.

  All of that together made her feel calm, but a little on edge, too. She didn’t know what to make of this contemplative and tame Austin. She was having a hard time equating the man she used to know—and the man she’d imagined he was—with the man she’d been keeping company with the past two hours.

  Especially when he took her straight home at ten o’clock on the dot. Shoot, if she’d known he’d be so…staid, well, she sure wouldn’t have worried about spending an evening alone with him. It seemed that Austin Wright could give a preacher a lesson in morality.

  That was all good, right?

  So why was she disappointed he wasn’t a little more wild? That he hadn’t held her hand or tried to kiss her?

  This was a serious flaw on her part. Dinah knew she should be thanking her lucky stars that he’d
been the perfect gentleman.

  After he parked and turned off the ignition, he looked straight ahead, palming the key in between his clenched hands.

  The sight of him attempting to be rigidly in control made her concerned. And because they were friends, she nudged his arm with her shoulder. “Austin? You okay?”

  Her nudge seemed to shake him out of his reverie. He blinked, turned her way again. “What? Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just fine.”

  “Are you sure about that?” He didn’t look fine.

  But instead of answering her directly, he unbuckled his seat belt and opened up his door. “This has been real nice, D. Let me walk you to the door.”

  There he went again, treating her the way no one else in the world seemed to. As though she was delicate. “I’m kind of the wrong person to worry about watching over, you know. I have no trouble walking alone in the dark.”

  His gaze darted in her direction. “I’m not walking you to the door to keep you safe, Dinah.”

  “Oh.” Now she felt a little silly. Here he was being a gentleman, and she was straying farther and farther from ladylike behavior with every minute that passed.

  Because she was still attempting to figure out how to act, she let him help her out of his truck. She leaned a little close to him when he curved his palm around her elbow and proceeded to carefully walk her up the steps. When she got her key out of her purse, she let him take it and unlock her door and turn on her light.

  He smiled slightly and said, “Thank you for dinner, Dinah. I enjoyed myself so much. Good night.”

  That was it?

  Gazing up at him, she stood motionless. Felt her body sway in his direction as she waited for his next move. Waited for him to kiss her cheek or hug her goodbye.

  Okay, she was waiting for a whole lot more than that. She’d envisioned being wrapped up in his arms and held tight as he expertly kissed her good-night.

  The way he had in her memories.

  But when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to do any of that, when it looked as though he was just fixing to turn and leave, Dinah knew it was time to say something. To do something. Because otherwise, they were going to be doing nothing. At all.

  Taking a chance, she placed her palm smack in the middle of his chest. Right over his heart. “Austin, what is going on?”

  His back stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been so quiet this evening.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “No, there isn’t.” When he raised an eyebrow, she attempted to explain. “I mean there’s nothing wrong with that at all. It’s just…did I do something wrong?”

  “Jeez, D. I can’t seem to win with you. Either I’m partying or acting up too much. Or now…not doing enough.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  To her satisfaction, he glanced down at his hands, then looked her directly in the eye. “I know. Sorry.”

  “We’ve been friends a whole lot longer than enemies.”

  “We’re not enemies.”

  “Then what’s going on?”

  He hung his head, looking suddenly as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. And shoot—maybe he did. “Truth?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re not going to like it…”

  She was a sheriff, for heaven’s sakes! Did he not think she’d seen just about everything there was to see? Plus, she had training. If he was having troubles, she was fully prepared to counsel him. To be the person in his life he needed. She wanted to be that person for him.

  “Hit me with what you’ve got,” she said, pulling him inside her apartment and closing the door behind them. “Talk to me, Austin. Tell me what you’re really thinking. I can take it. I promise.”

  He still looked skeptical. But after a moment, he shrugged and got that determined look she’d seen often on the rodeo circuit: his game face. “All right. See, it’s like this. All night…”

  “Yes?”

  He swallowed. “All night, it’s taken everything I’ve had…”

  She swayed closer. He reached out and held her shoulders. “Yes?”

  “All night, it’s taken every single solitary thing inside of me to not pull you close and kiss you.”

  She stood still, staring at him dumbly. “That’s your deep, dark secret?”

  “Well, yeah.” In the dim light of her tiny, very feminine living room, his cheeks turned red.

  Warning sirens started blaring in her ears. Not because of what he was saying…but because of how she was reacting to it. Because just like Pavlov’s dog, she was reacting to his words, and she didn’t seem to be having any control over it, either. “I had no idea,” she said breathlessly. And damned if she didn’t sound just like Roundup’s answer to Marilyn Monroe!

  “Well, now you do,” he drawled. He took off his hat, tossed it onto the middle of her tiny kitchen table and jerked a hand through his hair, as if even his hair follicles were giving him fits. She knew the feeling—she felt as though her whole body was on fire. “I’m sorry, D. I didn’t want to tell you how I was feeling.”

  The smart girl’s answer would be a noncommittal shrug. Maybe an “it’s no big deal.”

  But where he was concerned, she seemed to have lost all ability to form a smart girl’s response.

  She stepped close and asked the hundred-dollar question. “Why didn’t you want me to know, Austin?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “I’m…I’m not sure.”

  His eyes narrowed. She gulped. Obviously he was beginning to realize that there was something going on with them that wasn’t one-sided.

  His hands shot out, wrapping around her waist and pulling her next to him. “Because I was afraid if I kissed you like I wanted to, if I kissed you like I used to…you’d get upset.” His grip tightened, as if he was trying to hold on to the last ounce of his self-preservation. “Are you going to be upset with me, Dinah?”

  All she seemed to be capable of was shaking her head.

  Austin needed no more encouragement. Or was that discouragement? Leaning close, he pressed his lips against hers.

  The contact was sweet. Tender.

  It was kind of a letdown, really.

  She opened her lips, let him know that things could progress to maybe something a little bit more. When he hesitated, she pressed closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and reeled him in tight.

  And then finally…he deepened that kiss, he slipped his hands along her rib cage, and soon he didn’t need encouragement. Because he was kissing her the way she’d imagined him kissing her. The way he’d kissed her back in high school.

  The way a grown woman imagines her Prince Charming would kiss her—once they were done with the G-rated fairy-tale ending, that is.

  And, as Austin had obviously been afraid of, that one kiss became so much more, each kiss about ten times more passionate and out of control than the last.

  She didn’t want it to end.

  Dinah was a smart woman, but she had no earthly idea how they ended up on her couch. And then her floor.

  Or how Austin had managed to take off his boots without her noticing.

  Or her dress. Or his jeans. Or her satin panties she wore only on special occasions. Which meant they were basically brand-new.

  By the time they finally stopped for air, both of them were breathing hard. And they were naked, too.

  Enjoying the feel of him o
n top of her—so heavy and warm and perfect—she shifted her hips, just to feel his smooth skin move against hers.

  In answer, Austin braced himself up with one hand. Because his other was doing wonderful things to her breast.

  “Oh, shoot. Look at us,” he rasped. “Do you see what happened, Dinah?” he asked, his strained voice sounding as if he was lifting two-hundred-pound weights. “Do you finally see what I’ve been hoping to avoid?”

  “I see that I’m stark naked underneath you.”

  “And that is why I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

  “What do you want to do, Austin? Stop?”

  Brushing strands of hair off her face, he jerked his head. “Hell, no.” Leaning down, he whispered exactly what he wanted to do to her. “What do you think, Dinah? Can you handle that?”

  Austin was proving that under that temporary church-boy exterior he was just as wild as she knew he’d be.

  And because she rarely backed down from any challenge…she gave him the completely wrong answer.

  “Of course,” she murmured. And she smiled. Just before he did all the things he’d whispered about. And then he did them all over again, a whole lot more slowly.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Years ago, back when she was seven years old, Dinah had learned an important lesson: pretending ignorance wasn’t always a bad thing.

  It had all started when she’d sneaked her mother’s special china teapot out of the china cabinet, filled it with water and then had her own little tea party in the privacy of her room. Things had gone well until one wrong move had slid that pot off the bedside table and onto the floor. Landing in five jagged pieces.

  Dinah had stood there shocked. Heartbroken and scared, too. Her mother had really liked that teapot.

  Quickly, she’d picked up those pieces and carried them into the kitchen, slicing her tender fingers in a couple of spots in the process. So much so that she’d left the whole mess on the kitchen counter.

  When her mother had come in, she’d gotten in a tizzy about Dinah’s cuts. She’d carefully tended Dinah, bandaged each finger, then gave Dinah a tall glass of chocolate milk.

 

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