by Becky McGraw
Dylan released his shirt and stepped back to put his hand on his hip. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” What he needed was his friend to just back the hell off.
“You need an attitude adjustment, and I know just where you can find one too.”
“I’m not going to Smack Daddy’s, Sheedy,” Dylan said knowing where his friend was going with this. The last time Dylan went there he woke up in bed with a woman he definitely did not want to see again, Sunny Jo Walker, the resident barfly at Daddy’s.
That night he had one too many beers, and was just horny enough to agree when she asked him to go with her to her apartment. Big mistake. When Dylan grabbed his boots and snuck out of there the next morning before she woke up, he swore he was not going back to that bar for a good long while.
It had been two months, but not nearly long enough yet to wipe away the picture of how she looked that next morning with her bird’s nest blonde hair and smeared makeup from his mind. Her damned breasts were so hard from the implants he almost got a black eye when she arched into him. Dylan was disgusted with himself for going where every other man who frequented that bar had gone. Falling into the same trap he’d laughed at them for getting caught in. The woman already had two kids by two different daddies. He didn’t want to be the unlucky bastard to pull the ticket to be daddy number three. Until he found the used condom in his boot when he put them on in the truck, he was deathly afraid that’s just what he’d done.
Dylan had no plans to be anyone’s daddy. Ever. Especially with a woman like her. He’d been flying solo since he was thirteen. He planned on keeping it that way for everyone’s sake. He knew from the shitty examples of parenting he’d had, he wouldn’t do any better.
“Dude, it’s ladies night,” Sheedy coaxed with a smile. “You need some beer, and a little, um, stress relief. I’ll bet Sunny Jo will be there.”
Sheedy was taunting him, he knew what happened with her. They had talked about it, laughed about it. Compared notes. Disgusting.
“You know I don’t want any part of the stress relief provided by Sunny Jo,” Dylan growled. “She’s exactly why I don’t want to go tonight.”
“Okay, I’ll be your wingman then,” he offered, with a laugh. “If I see her headed your way, I’ll distract her.” He waggled his eyebrows, and laughed. Unlike Dylan, Sheedy evidently had no problem going there again.
With the day he’d had so far, throwing a drunk did sound good, even if Sunny Jo didn’t. Dylan pinned Sheedy with his eyes. “I’ll go, but you better not let that woman anywhere near me. I’m not in the mood.”
Sheedy grinned and swiped an X over his chest. “Promise you won’t have to deal with her tonight. It’ll be my pleasure to take her off your hands. We need to drive separately though in case I get lucky. Don’t want to have to spend the night with her.” Sheedy slapped him on the shoulder and turned him toward the barn door. “Now go get cleaned up, and I will too. We’re going to get you in a better mood. Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky too.”
Dylan was afraid there wasn’t enough beer in Texas to accomplish that, or enough women. The mood he was in was so black the odds were he’d end up in a fight and get thrown in jail. But he was going to try Dr. Sheedy’s prescription anyway. If he got too drunk, he’d just walk back to the ranch and get his truck later. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it would be the last, because come hell or high water, Dylan was leaving this ranch next week.
CHAPTER THREE
Carrie picked at the label on her beer with her fingernail, trying to ignore the kissing couples, the sexy dancing and the drunken happiness of everyone at Smack Daddy’s. It was depressing. The loud country music blaring from the speakers beside the stage was giving her a headache. About thirty minutes after they got to the bar and Joel grabbed Terri to drag her away for a dance, Carrie gave up all hope of having even a remotely good time tonight.
This just wasn’t her kind of scene. She was a mother of two, a woman formerly married for ten years, not a party animal like the mostly younger crowd here. The ache in her chest was as loud as the music. She missed her husband. Coming here had been a mistake.
Emotion shot up to her throat to choke her. Carrie lifted the now warm bottle to her lips and took a long slow sip to wash it back down. If she cried, she knew Terri would get on her case. Her new friend seemed determined to force her to enjoy herself tonight. Carrie was doing her best to pretend she was having a good time, but the truth was she was miserable.
Earlier, when they got out of the truck in the parking lot, like a teacher taking gum from a naughty student, Terri had confiscated her wedding ring. Carrie’s finger felt naked, as naked as her soul right now. She missed her kids, and she still had three more days to go before she would see them again. Sunday would never come soon enough for her.
Several men had asked her to dance, but she had turned them all down flat. Thank God none had asked in front of Terri, or she would’ve had to accept. And thank God Terri now seemed to be occupied dancing with her husband out on the dark dance floor. That at least gave Carrie a little breathing room for a few minutes. As much breathing as she could do around the worry constricting her chest. Why did she have this feeling of impending doom pressing down on her shoulders like a lead curtain?
The last time she’d felt this way had been the night Sean had been killed. When the phone rang at five a.m., she didn’t pick it up because she already knew something terrible had happened. An hour later, she didn’t open the door either when the knock came. Chris opened the door to the uniformed officers with the red-rimmed eyes and sad faces who confirmed her premonition.
When she got it, the feeling was rarely wrong. Something earth-shattering was about to happen in her life. It hadn’t been wrong when her grandma died, or when Chris got into trouble with the pot that first time. Having that feeling now was freaking her out. It started right after they got to the bar and hadn’t let up since.
Carrie had been trying to attribute it to anxiety over being separated from the kids for the first time in their lives, but with every minute that passed she was having more difficulty doing that. She needed to call Trace and check on the kids. And check on her parents too. They were out in the boonies and half the time their phone was on the fritz, because her daddy forgot to put the portable back in the cradle. But her cell phone was dead, so she needed to either borrow Joel’s or find a pay phone.
She pushed up on the table to stand, but a hand dropped on her shoulder to shove her back down. A bottle plopped down on the table in front of her, then hot breath tickled her as a sexy, low-pitched voice rumbled near her ear. “Since you’re suddenly single, beautiful, I guess your husband won’t mind me buying you a beer…”
She stared up into the hard brown eyes of the ranch hand she’d run into in the hallway of the spa. “Suddenly single?” she repeated dumbly.
He grabbed her hand and studied it as he ran his callused thumb over her ring finger. “You were married the last time I saw you. I couldn’t miss it. That ring was big enough to choke my horse.” His lips twisted, as he asked, “What happened? You and your Sugar Daddy have a fight?” Carrie was dumbfounded when he lifted her hand to his mouth. His hot breath scorched her skin, as he dropped a moist kiss on the back, sending electric darts sizzling up her arm. She tried to jerk her hand from his, but he didn’t let it go. Instead, with one jerk she was on her feet and trapped against his chest. She could feel his heart beating erratically under her palm, and she could also smell the beer now.
He was drunk, and feeling amorous. “Let me go,” she ground out, pushing back against his firm chest.
His eyes locked with hers. “Do you do this a lot? Troll for a little side action because the old man can’t get it up anymore?” he asked nastily. “You know, I could definitely help you there.”
“I highly doubt that in your current state, cowboy,” Carrie scoffed and gave a mighty shove against his chest. She stumbled back into the table. “You’re drunk, and married or not, I’m definitely no
t looking for anything you have to offer.” Grabbing her purse off the table, Carrie tried to step around him, but he grabbed her arm again.
“If you’re not married, why were you wearing a wedding ring?” he demanded in an edgy tone leaning in close to invade her space again.
Her eyes dropped to his long-fingered hand which was gripping her upper arm. “Maybe because my husband is dead, like you’re going to be if you don’t stop grabbing me!” she grated, slapping his hand. “Now let me go. I have to make a phone call.” He still didn’t release her, so she finally jerked her arm from his grasp.
Carrie was halfway to the hall by the bathroom when he caught up to her again. He didn’t grab her this time, he followed her then stepped in front of her. His big body blocked her view of the payphone behind him. “I’m sorry,” he said contritely. “It’s been an awful day, and I have had a few too many beers.”
“Being drunk is no excuse for manhandling me. Or making assumptions you have no business making. Now move!” she said shouldering him aside to get to the phone.
She put her hand on the receiver, but he covered her hand with his before she could pick up the phone. That same fire danced over her skin, up the side of her throat, then raised the hair at the back of her neck as he leaned in closer. “You’re right again. Let me start over. My name is Dylan, and I’d like to dance with you. I’ve been wanting to talk to you more since I bumped into you in the hall of the spa, but I didn’t because you’re a ranch guest, and I thought you were married.”
He moved his hand to her shoulder, then slid it to the center of her back. Carrie just stood there for a moment, listening to him breathe over the loud music behind them, feeling the heat from his body warm hers, letting the scent of his delicious cologne soak her senses. Beyond the beer, he did smell damned good. Good enough to eat. She missed that smell. The unique combination of good cologne mixed with warm man. She turned her head to the side and inhaled, saw his pulse pounding at the side of his smooth throat, as he waited for her to speak.
“I’m Carrie,” she said softly, her tongue tingling to taste him there. To see if his skin tasted salty, and sweet like she thought it would. A buzz started low in her body, and she pressed her knees together as guilt seized her. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to feel anything. The sudden yearning to feel a real man touch her doubled that guilt. Her thumb sneaked over to her ring finger to rub the ridge left by her wedding ring.
Holding her gaze, Dylan smiled, a smile that said he was interested in her, thought she was attractive. It had been a long time since Carrie had a man smile at her like that. She got a melty feeling in the center of her chest.
“It’s nice to meet you, Carrie,” he said and his smooth, sexy voice vibrated along her nerve endings, exciting each one. His hand sneaked up under her hair and his thumb brushed her throat. A thrill raced down her spine and Carrie just contained a shiver. “If I leave you alone to make your call, will you dance with me when you’re done?”
She’d said it herself, she wasn’t married anymore. Sean was gone, and she was still alive. Since he died though, she hadn’t felt alive. All she’d been doing is going through the motions of living. Maybe it was time she changed that. Maybe this man would offer her the opportunity to remember what it was like to be a woman.
“Yes,” she said surprising herself. Her voice trembled as she added, “I won’t be but a minute.”
“I’ll wait for you right out there, then,” Dylan said with a nod over his shoulder. As he moved back, she immediately felt the cool air brush her skin where his hand had been, and wanted to feel his heat again.
“Okay,” she replied, not able to help the hesitant smile that curved her mouth upward. He turned and she watched him walk outside the doorway to wait for her.
With a sigh, she turned and picked up the phone. After calling Trace’s cell phone, he told her the kids were already asleep. From the relaxed but slightly agitated sound of his voice, Carrie knew she had interrupted something. Sean’s voice had sounded the same when he got a call from his office after hours, and he was trying to spend a minute with her. Ronnie’s soft moans, and the kissing sounds in the background just confirmed it. Trace chastised her for being a worry wart, and reassured her that he would call her if something happened that he and Ronnie couldn’t handle. The call to her father had woken him up. He also told her that everything was fine, and sounded irritated that she had woken him up to check on them.
It looked like Carrie was the only one who was having separation anxiety. Everyone else was doing fine. Without her. Carrie felt like a boat broken loose of its mooring, a kite whose string had broken. Free floating with no particular direction. It was exciting but scary.
She had never been the only one in control of her own life, without expectations and responsibility. Going directly from her parents’ house at eighteen to living with Sean as his wife, and becoming a mother shortly thereafter, this feeling of freedom, with only herself to worry about, was strange. She didn’t quite know what to do with herself.
Carrie hung up the phone and rested her forehead on the cool metal base. And now right outside that doorway there was a man waiting for her, expecting things, she was sure. She didn’t quite know what to do with him either. Carrie had never been with another man. Before Sean, she’d only kissed one other guy, and that could barely be called a kiss. She didn’t know how to flirt, she and Sean had sort of just happened one day in math class. She was probably about to make a fool of herself.
Despite her new sexy exterior, an illusion created by Sadie at the salon, there wasn’t a damned thing sexy about her. It was all pretend. Carrie didn’t have the moves and attitude to back up this new look. She was sure the handsome man standing on the other side of that doorway would quickly realize that. But if she ever wanted to move on, she needed to develop those skills.
Dylan seemed as good a man as any to practice with. Even though he was slightly intoxicated, he didn’t seem to be threatening. And he worked at the ranch, so she doubted he would try anything with her, or press her if she called a stop to things. She could do this. It was just a dance, she told herself. Thank goodness for church socials growing up where she’d at least learned the basics of it, even though she hadn’t danced in years. Since her wedding reception. Emotion pushed up to her throat, and she swallowed hard.
“Everything okay?” Dylan’s sexy, deep voice drawled from the doorway.
He walked up behind her to put his hand on her back again and a pleasant thrill weaved through her. Carrie pushed away from the phone and turned to smile up at him. His beautiful brown eyes were shaded by his hat, so she couldn’t read his mood. He stepped a little closer, and his scent engulfed her, as one of his hands settled at her waist, while the other cupped her cheek. His thumb stroked the skin near her temple, short-circuiting her senses.
“Yeah, everything is fine,” she replied nervously.
“You ready then?” he asked and his broad smile hit her right in the center of the chest.
Ready? Carrie didn’t think she’d ever be ready. But she’d never find out if she didn’t try to get over Sean. To move on and figure out who she was and where she went from here.
The air buzzed between them as Carrie stared at his full moist lips for a minute, mesmerized as her brain listed off the things that mouth could do to her body. Sean had taught her the joys of sex. He had been her first and only lover, but he definitely knew what he was doing. Or at least she thought he did. She had no idea really, but he’d always made sure she enjoyed it too. She had a feeling this man could teach her a lot more, if she just relaxed and enjoyed herself. Paid attention. If she ever wanted to move on that is exactly what she needed to do. This was her chance.
Carrie let her reservations slide away, and brick by brick, she demolished the protective wall she’d built around herself for the last three years. Her eyes slid back up his handsome face to his eyes. Mentally, she tossed away the final brick and sighed as her shoulders relaxed. S
he widened her smile and nodded.
Dylan’s hand slipped behind her neck to tilt her face toward his. Carrie held her breath as he stared into her eyes a moment, before his head gravitated downward as if in slow motion. Those lips took their own sweet time getting to hers, and Carrie thought she might pass out before they reached their destination. Her breath came out in a slow hiss as his heat surrounded her right before the moment of contact. A million conflicting emotions shot through her, but the sizzle of sweet desire melted them all into a ball of liquid heat at her core.
Carrie fisted her hand in the material of his shirt, leaning into him, wanting more. Disappointment filled her when, after a quick pass over her mouth, he stepped back to give her a goofy smile. “Let’s dance, sugar,” he drawled, pulling her to him for a quick hug.
When he released her, his hand slid to her waist and he tucked her into his side to lead her back into the crowded bar. His delicious scent and body heat intoxicated Carrie. She relaxed into his side, slipped her arm around his back, and his firm muscles danced beneath her palm as they walked to the table to drop off her purse. They stopped at the edge of the dance floor and waited for a break in the dancing couples on the crowded floor.
Just as the opening came, a slow song started playing. Dylan grabbed her hand and tugged her through the dancers until they were at the center of the floor, where he stopped to pull her to him. Tentatively she smoothed her palms up his chest to circle them behind his neck. His eyes held hers as if she were the only woman there. The shiny silver ball overhead reflected multi-colored lights over his handsome face. A little grin kicked up the corner of his mouth as his fingers tightened on her hips and his feet started moving. The rhythm of the slow ballad seeped into her, and her feet moved too.
Their bodies found perfect harmony and Carrie’s eyes drifted shut. Peace settled in her soul, and she leaned into him, resting her cheek against his chest. The slow beat of his heart under her cheek soothed her, the swaying of their bodies lulled her. She sighed. As his arms tightened around her, Carrie felt safe and mindless, a feeling that had escaped her for three years. A few minutes later, a rich deep voice rumbled in her ear, waking her from the soft, dreamy world to which she’d escaped. “You feel so damned good.”