Slow Burn Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  “Is something going on with him?” Alison asked.

  Everything inside her recoiled, scampered away and hid behind an internal wall that she needed right now. Needed, so that she could use it as insulation while she figured everything out.

  “No,” she said, “nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “No. Nothing is going on with myself and Finn.” Good Lord. If she denied him the full three times she would be in a situation of biblical proportions.

  “Well,” Alison said. “If you ever want to talk about it...”

  “There isn’t anything to talk about.” She grabbed hold of a carton of blackberries and shoved them at Rebecca. “I’ll just get your stuff, and then you and Violet can head over to the bakery.”

  She stomped back and grabbed the jars of cream and brought them out, aware of the fact that her face was probably red, since it was warm. She didn’t know why she was reacting like this. Why it was freaking her out to this degree.

  If she couldn’t get a handle on herself then it wasn’t going to be up to her whether or not the relationship became public. She was going to let everybody know with her completely uncontrolled mannerisms.

  She asked herself, yet again, if that would be the worst thing. Right now, it felt a little like it might be.

  Just because the whole thing was new. And she still felt a bit raw and fragile because of it. Giving other people permission to weigh in on it, to look at it, sounded like her worst nightmare right about now. She was still examining it all cautiously. She did not want anyone else’s opinion.

  That made her feel isolated, though. It made her so very aware of the fact that she didn’t share anything with these women that she considered her very best friends. And here she was, continuing that pattern.

  Well, she was going to sort it out. Except, she had never had any plans to sort that out. She had told Finn about her past as a kind of defense mechanism, not because she wanted to let him in, not because she wanted him to understand anything more about herself.

  She took a deep breath. “At least,” she said slowly, “there’s nothing I want to talk about right now.”

  Just that simple admission made her feel exposed. She immediately regretted it. She just wanted to hide again.

  Understanding softened Rebecca’s face. “Well, I can definitely understand that.”

  “Anyway, here you go. Neither of you pay me for them. Just take them. Alison, you can pay me in pastry if the experiment works out. And you’ll owe me double if Violet ends up being a great employee.”

  “I would very much like to owe you,” Alison said.

  Alison turned and walked back toward Violet, gesturing for the girl to exit the store with her.

  Rebecca held her berries close, then looked at Finn, and back at Lane. “Anytime you want to talk,” she muttered. “I’m a judgment-free zone. I mean, look who I ended up with.”

  Yes, Rebecca had ended up with the most unlikely man imaginable. The thing about Finn was, as far as the entire town was concerned, Lane imagined he seemed like the most likely man for her to end up with.

  He fit. They fit. He filled all of these spaces in her life—had for years—and that was its own kind of terrifying.

  “I promise if there’s ever anything to talk about, we’ll talk.”

  Rebecca nodded, then turned to go. But she stopped right in front of Finn. “Don’t give me a reason to come after you, Donnelly,” she said, “because I will.” Then she smiled and continued on out the door and down the street.

  “So,” Finn said, his voice breaking some of the tension in the air. “I think it’s safe to say everybody knows.”

  “I denied pretty heavily.” She let out a harsh breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just kind of crazy. I’m trying not to be. I really am. But when Rebecca came in I kept thinking about how you two almost...”

  He reached out, wrapping his hand around her wrist and drawing her against him. She was breathing hard and she could feel his heart beating against her palm. “Do you know how long I’ve been celibate?”

  “Like, twelve hours,” she said, trying to shift some of the heavy weight in her chest.

  “No. I mean before you and me. Do you know how long it had been since I was with another woman?”

  “No.” She had started turning a very blind eye to all of Finn’s exploits with women early on in their friendship. Yes, she was vaguely aware that he hooked up a lot. At least, a whole lot more than she did. But she had done a lot of not thinking about it. Because he was her friend, and she really hadn’t wanted to think about him getting it on.

  Or, in truth, she hadn’t wanted to think about him having sex with anybody because it would force her to think about him as sexual. And at the time, that had been about the most important thing to be avoided.

  Right now, feeling so warm, and out of control in his arms, she was having trouble remembering why that had been.

  “A year. And when the thing happened with Rebecca, it had been a few months. I just wasn’t interested in anyone. Not anyone but you. It was getting worse and worse. And she was there looking for a chance to forget. So was I. It seemed like we could help each other out.” Lane shivered, moving closer to him. “It was about you,” he continued, his voice rough. “All of it. There’s no reason to be jealous, because I never would have asked her to dance if I wasn’t trying to forget the woman I wanted. The one I was sure I couldn’t have. It was you even then.”

  She swallowed hard, resting her head against his chest. She just wanted to stand like this, because this felt good. He felt good. She didn’t know what was going to happen tomorrow; she didn’t know what her jumbled-up heartbeat meant, what that vague shaking in her limbs was. She just knew that being with him like this felt right.

  After so many years of wrong, she felt like she was due.

  “So,” she said finally, “we’re both a little bit jealous, I guess.”

  “We spent a long time being close with each other, but not being this. And in that time we both dated other people. I imagine that...makes it tricky.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Tricky.”

  She curled her hand into a fist, clutching his T-shirt, burying her face deeper into his chest. It didn’t feel tricky right now. Not right in this moment.

  “Spend the night again tonight?” she asked, trying not to sound too needy. But she was needy. And that kind of neediness opened up a whole well of questions that she couldn’t see the bottom of.

  If they slept together every night, would they eventually be better off living together? If they lived together, what did that mean? Or would the intensity of their connection burn off? Would they end up just being convenient sex friends? Sleeping together on the weekends? Would he end up wanting other people instead of her eventually?

  That made her feel a little bit dire. So she closed the lid on those questions.

  “Sure,” he said, lifting his hand and stroking her hair. If she were a cat she would purr. “That sounds good.”

  “I’ll cook,” she said, feeling suddenly decisive. One thing she wanted to make sure they didn’t do was lose their friendship in the middle of all this sex stuff. And it was normal for him to come for dinner every so often.

  If they were going to be friends with benefits, they had to take care of the friendship part, right?

  “Okay,” he said slowly.

  “Steak,” she said. “And, if you want to bring some blue cheese from your stores that would be much appreciated. I’ll barbecue, and we can eat down by the lake.”

  A strange smile curved the edge of his lips. “Okay.”

  “I am offering you my prime steak,” she said. “I deserve more than okay.”

  “Is that a euphemism?”

  “It won’t be if you don’t show some appreciation.”

>   He laughed, dipping his head and kissing her deep, long, not bothering with any kind of teasing. It was full-on from the moment his lips touched hers, his tongue plunging deep, the swirling pattern he traced on the inside of her mouth leaving her dizzy and hollow feeling.

  It occurred to her then that they were standing in the middle of her store in broad daylight, and anybody could come in at any moment.

  She took a step back, smoothing her hair. “That will do.”

  “How is the mouse, by the way?”

  She blinked, not understanding for a moment. Then she remembered. The last time they had kissed in the store, the first time they had kissed. “Oh. Robert. He’s great.”

  “You named him?”

  “I told you I was going to.” She hadn’t really named the mouse until this exact moment, but she enjoyed the look of surprise and vague disgust on Finn’s handsome face.

  “I will not be edged out by a mouse,” he said. “My friendship is superior.”

  “I can tell you I’m much more likely to kiss you that I am to kiss the mouse. Though once you get past the fact he’s a vile, disgusting rodent, he’s pretty great. A very quiet tenant. Then again, he never brings me cheese, he just eats the cheese.”

  “Unacceptable.” He reached out, touching her chin, as if he almost couldn’t bear to be out of physical contact with her. That did something to her insides. Made them turn over, shifted them around. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  For the first time in a while, as she watched Finn walk out of the store, she felt like a weight had been lifted. In spite of all the questions that she had, maybe this could all work out.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  WHEN FINN GOT to Lane’s she immediately ushered him down to the dock and thrust a cold beer into his hand. That wasn’t particularly unusual. When it came to food, and feeding people, Lane spread her favors around pretty evenly.

  All of this wouldn’t have been terribly out of place back before they had started sleeping together. A cold beer, a steak on the grill had always been sweet. The assurance of sex later made it all a little bit sweeter.

  “Just sit down,” she said as she bustled around, preparing a salad and placing it at the center of the little picnic table that was just by the water’s edge. “I’ve got everything.”

  He wasn’t going to argue. Instead, he lifted his beer to his lips and watched Lane walk, those little cutoff shorts she wore showing off the tanned, toned length of her legs. And now he knew exactly what it was like to have those legs wrapped around him.

  Male satisfaction gripped him. Probably inappropriate, and definitely objectifying. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  He had saved up a lot of time wanting. Wanting, longing, desiring and not having. Well, now he had her. He wasn’t going to embrace any inhibition now. He’d had a decade of it. He was over it.

  She came over to the table, placing a plate in front of him that had a glorious-looking steak topped with blue cheese on it and some mashed potatoes on the side.

  “Salad isn’t optional,” she said, setting a plate in front of herself and taking a seat across from him. “Because it’s so good.”

  She smiled, the breeze ruffling her hair, the orange glow from the slowly sinking sun making her look like she was an angel. Except what he wanted to do with her was decidedly not angelic.

  “For you,” he said, grabbing the tongs and dishing himself a portion of salad that seemed to have cheese, fruit and nuts in it. “For you I will eat greens.”

  “That’s the nicest compliment you could have given me. I feel like it’s a true show of your devotion that you’re willing to eat a vegetable to placate me.”

  She looked down at her plate, then without lifting her face, she looked back at him, her lashes veiling her eyes slightly, the expression impish and so damn sexy it made him hard. Then she smiled, just a hint of one.

  Something in his chest expanded to a painful proportion, making it difficult to breathe. He wanted to capture this moment, capture the smile and hang on to both for as long as possible.

  This feeling, this feeling that was taking over his entire body, didn’t feel much like friendship. But then, he wasn’t sure his feelings for her had ever been that simple.

  It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what it was called. If it was dinners by the lake and nights spent in bed with each other, what did he care? A label wouldn’t help.

  They ate in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. The breeze was blowing over the top of the water, leaving little ripples in the dark surface, the trees that stood tall and proud around the perimeter rustling slightly, the scent of wood and pine and warm earth riding the top of the wind.

  “I’ve never had a guy out here, just so you know. Actually, I’ve never had a guy spend the night at my house before.”

  That simple, bland admission hit him hard in the stomach.

  “You haven’t?” She had invited him to stay over easily enough. In fact, it hadn’t even been a discussion. He had slept in her bed until he’d had to get up at an ungodly hour to be home in time to do the ranch work.

  She hadn’t indicated that his spending the night was a big deal.

  “No,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on the bench, her gaze focused on the lake, and very much not on him. “I like my space. And I didn’t really feel like I could invite any of them over here. Then I would remember them being here. You... You’re in every part of this place already. You came with me and the real estate agent when I bought it. You helped me get everything in livable condition. I don’t know this place without you.” Her eyes met his then, something shimmering there, something that he reacted to on a visceral level. “This whole place. The house, the town.”

  “Well,” he said, doing his best to defuse the tightness in his throat by taking another bite of steak. “I can’t deny that I like the idea of being first in some ways.”

  “Really?”

  “Men are simple creatures, sweetheart. We like what we like. And I think I’ve proven that I’m more than a little possessive where you’re concerned. But it does make me curious,” he said, hesitating for a moment before pressing on. “What were those relationships for?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “What were any of yours for?”

  “I’m different. I don’t have girlfriends—you know that. I hook up. That’s different. What I do, I do for the sex.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I kind of do the same thing. It’s just that I wrap it all in a low-key relationship to make myself feel better about... I don’t know. My choices?”

  “Why didn’t you invite any of them over? Why did you know they were never going to be anything serious?” He didn’t know why he was pressing, except part of him needed to know. Needed to know why he was here with her now, and why no other man had been before.

  What she’d already said made some sense. There was no keeping him out of her memories of the house because he was already in them. But he didn’t know very many people who started relationships knowing they were never going to go very far.

  It was one reason he didn’t do them. Oh, he’d tried his hand at relationships a couple of times, but he’d learned pretty quickly that women got involved emotionally, and he had never wanted that kind of attachment.

  “I don’t... I can’t,” she said, sounding helpless. She put her fork down, pinched the bridge of her nose. “I just... I start thinking about that kind of thing, about having a real relationship. Marriage. Children. And I just... Can’t move on from it. I don’t feel like I... I don’t deserve it, Finn.” Her eyes glittered, and she stood up quickly, moving away from the table and down toward the shore.

  He just sat there, watching her for a moment. Watched as she wrapped her arms around her body, held herself tightly like she was trying to keep from falling apart.

&n
bsp; He stood slowly, crossing the space between them and making his way toward her. “Why don’t you deserve to move on?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know how. Everything inside me is all walled off, put in these different sections. So that I can function without... I don’t even know how to explain it. But you know what makes me angry? When I see him on TV?”

  “What?” She didn’t say anything for a moment and he pushed. “What makes you angry, Lane?”

  “His family. The fact that he moved on. The fact that he got married, that he has children. That he doesn’t... That he probably doesn’t even think of me. Of everything that I went through. That he somehow feels like he deserves all of this and I just... I can’t.”

  “Honey,” he said, his tone soft, “isn’t that the entire point of giving a child up for adoption? So that everybody can have the best life?”

  She swallowed visibly. “I gave him away. And what if I could have made it work? What if I could have...”

  His chest clenched tight. “Lane, you didn’t give him away. You gave him up. You gave him up so that he could have a better future. And so you could too. And take it from somebody who really was abandoned by his mother. Not so he could have a better life, but so she wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore... It’s not the same thing.”

  She looked startled, looked like she wanted to ask questions. Well, he didn’t want to answer them. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the voice inside him that labeled him a hypocrite. For wanting her to share everything, for wanting to share nothing himself.

  But this was different. It was different for her. She thought that she was beyond redemption somehow, thought that she deserved to live defined by her past.

  It wasn’t too late for her to move forward, and she damn well deserved to.

  His situation was completely different.