by LuAnn McLane
“We don’t have to.”
“I want to,” he said into her ear. “It’s been a while, so I might be a little rusty.”
“Come on,” Dakota said to Grady, and grabbed him as he started to leave the dance floor. “Get Sierra in your arms. Don’t be a party pooper.”
Grady turned to Sierra, “Let’s dance, baby doll. Party pooper and my name are never linked together.”
“Now, that I believe,” Dakota said with a laugh. “Come on, Sierra,” she said when Sierra shook her head. “It’s easier than fast dancing.”
“But I don’t know how to slow dance,” she admitted with a blush.
“As you just witnessed, I’m not much of a dancer either but not bein’ much of something has never stopped me from doin’ it, so why start now?” Grady tugged her closer to him and gave her a quick kiss. “We can wing it, believe me.”
“I might step on your toes,” Sierra warned him.
“Like that would hurt,” he countered with a grin.
“Aren’t they cute?” Dakota asked when Trace pulled her back into his arms.
“I do think they are made for each other. It just took them a while to figure it out. I never would have guessed that Grady would fall so hard,” Trace said, and chuckled when Grady dipped Sierra and then spun her around, bringing her bare feet off of the floor.
“Yeah, I’m loving it.” Dakota put her head on Trace’s shoulder and swayed with the music. It felt good to be in his arms, and he was a surprisingly skillful dancer despite his injured leg. If it bothered him, he didn’t let it show.
At the end of the song, Trace whispered in her ear, “Do you want to head back and enjoy a nice, long soak in the hot tub?”
“Mmm, sounds nice,” Dakota agreed. “Just let me find my shoes and we can say our good-byes. Are you okay to drive?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I stopped drinking a while ago. But I do have a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge.”
“Thinking ahead, were you?”
“Only all day long,” he admitted, and gave her a kiss.
They made their good-byes quick, and when they got to the edge of the cow pasture, Trace picked up Dakota and carried her to his truck.
“Trace, what are you doing?”
“Getting you home as fast as I can,” he admitted. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve been thinking about having you in my arms all day long.”
Dakota gave him a sassy arch of one eyebrow. “Well, then, put the pedal to the metal, cowboy.”
Trace tilted his head back and laughed.
“What? Did that sound silly coming from me?”
“Not at all. You’re definitely finding your inner redneck, Dakota. And damn if it isn’t sexy as hell.”
Dakota laughed with him and then reached over and cranked up the radio. She harmonized with Toby Keith and then sang along with Sugarland while the sultry night breeze blew in the open windows and lifted her hair from the back of her neck. She looked over at Trace and smiled, thinking she had never in her life felt more happy and alive.
Once they were at his cabin, they headed around to the back deck. When Trace pulled her into his arms from behind, Dakota leaned against him and said, “It’s so beautiful here.” She gazed up into the inky blue sky dotted with glittering stars. “Peaceful.”
Trace kissed the top of her head. “It’s been a healing place for me,” he said, surprising her with his admission. “I hope it will be for you too,” he continued, and then paused as if he wanted to say more but was refraining. Finally, he said, “Let’s get out of these clothes and relax.” Releasing her, Trace walked over, cranked up the heat and said, “I’ll be back in a minute with the wine, and then we’ll slip into the tub.”
“I don’t have a swimsuit,” Dakota suddenly remembered.
“Good,” Trace answered with a grin. “I’ll be right back.”
He returned shortly with the bottle and two glasses. He poured the wine and clinked his glass to hers. “To new beginnings,” he said, and then took a swallow.
Dakota smiled and then took a sip of the cold Chardonnay. “Nice,” she said. “The wedding was fun, but this is even better.”
“I agree,” Trace answered, and started unbuttoning his shirt. When Dakota glanced left and right, he said, “Don’t worry. We’re secluded back here,” then pulled her into his arms.
Dakota slid her hands up over his bare chest, loving the feeling of his warm skin and hard muscle beneath her palms. She pushed the shirt over his shoulders and reached for his silver belt buckle. His muscles tightened and then quivered when her fingers lightly brushed over his abdomen, and when she unzipped his fly he drew in a quick breath. Feeling bold, sexy, powerful, she pushed his dress pants past his hips and palmed his very nice butt, drawing him closer. She kissed his chest and toyed with the elastic of his boxer briefs until he moaned his protest.
“Touch me,” he said, low and husky in her ear.
“Gladly.” While she continued to kiss his chest, she reached between their bodies and caressed the hot, hard length of his erection.
“God, Dakota.” He reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. The soft material slid from her shoulders and pooled at her feet, leaving her in a skimpy beige push-up bra and matching bikini panties. Trace looked his fill and then pulled her close, rubbing his steely hardness against the silky material before bending his dark head to capture her lips.
They stood in the moonlight and kissed with the confidence of two people finding each other and falling deeply in love. The night air felt warm, sultry, but edged with coolness blowing through the trees on the night breeze, while the sounds of nature hummed in the distance, creating an earthy backdrop for lovers.
“Forget the hot tub. I want to make love to you beneath the stars,” Trace said, and tenderly kissed her bare shoulder.
“That would be perfect.”
“Wait here,” he instructed. Mere moments later, he returned with a thick comforter and two pillows. He spread the makeshift bed out on the deck and took her hand and pulled her into his embrace. He kissed her deeply, soundly, and with a passion that went straight to her heart.
They sank down onto the comforter. While on their knees, they kissed and caressed, savoring the reality of what had been fantasized about all day long. Finally, Trace slid his hands up and unhooked her bra, allowing her breasts to tumble free. When he bent his head and took one nipple into his mouth, Dakota’s breath caught in her throat. His mouth felt so warm and his tongue so soft that she let out a sigh. “Trace,” she said, arching her back, wanting more and more, and he gave it to her until her thigh muscles trembled and her knees gave out.
By the time he gently eased her to the comforter, Dakota felt as if she were melting from the inside out. Trace slid her panties down and off and then removed his boxers, but before he came to her, he remained on his knees and gazed down at her. “You look stunning in the moonlight,” he told her, and then lovingly trailed his fingertips over her body. Her skin was so achingly sensitive that his feather-light touch sent an erotic tingle racing throughout her body. “Trace,” she said, and reached up with her arms, “come to me.”
“Dakota.” He covered her body with his and kissed her softly, tenderly, until passion took over. When Dakota wrapped her legs around him, Trace threaded his fingers with hers and made sweet love to her beneath the moon and the stars.
Afterward, he pulled her into his arms and held her close for a long time. Neither of them spoke. After a while, he tucked the comforter around them. While her eyes fluttered shut, Dakota thought that there was no other place on earth that she would rather be than with her head on Trace Coleman’s chest and his arms wrapped around her.
Just as she was about to doze off, her cell phone beeped. She frowned, realizing it was in her purse, which was lying on the chaise longue and was within reach, and yet she didn’t want the outside world to intrude. It beeped again.
“You need to get that?” Trace mumbled, half-asleep but sounding
sexy as hell.
“Mmmm, no, it just means I missed a call. I had my phone on silent earlier,” Dakota mumbled back, but then wondered who would have been trying to contact her. “I guess I should check to make sure it’s nothing important.” Thinking it could be her parents, her heart pounded, and with a concerned frown she leaned over and reached up for her purse.
25
Fly Me to the Moon
“Everything okay?” Trace came up on one elbow and put his hand on Dakota’s waist.
“Yes.” Dakota flipped the phone shut. “Everything is fine.”
“Are you sure?” He eased her hair over her shoulder and kissed her neck.
“Nothing that can’t keep until morning,” she assured him with a small smile, and then snuggled back into his arms with the phone still in her hand.
“All right,” Trace replied, but didn’t sound convinced. “But if you need to talk, let me know. I’m right here.”
“Thank you. Just hold me close, okay?”
“Gladly,” Trace said, and wrapped his strong arms around her. But instead of falling asleep, Dakota stared off into the darkness and thought about the message. Ruth Jackson, her manager, said that Vince Marruso of Sundial Records wanted her in the studio in Nashville tomorrow afternoon. Vince loved the songs she had sent to him thus far and wanted to go full speed ahead and possibly talk contracts. He went on to say that her sweet Southern style was hot right now and he didn’t want to waste any time, hoping to have a single release ready as soon as possible, with the hopes of sending her on the road with a headliner for a fall concert series.
Dakota blinked and inhaled a deep breath. It was enough to make her head spin. By rights, she should be over the moon. And yet joy failed to come, and she knew why. She was coming to love it here at the marina. She loved her new friends.
But most of all, she loved Trace Coleman.
While she craved the feel of her guitar in her hands and knew her new songs were spot-on, the thought of performing on stage and going on the road for weeks on end held no appeal. And yet how could she let everyone down? Or pass up an opportunity that many musicians only dream about and never get the shot at once, much less twice? She thought of Sam Dickens, who earlier that night said her parents were proud of her. She considered Ruth Jackson, who worked hard to make this happen, and then sighed deeply. Her financial success would mean more cash flow to the marina. People were counting on her and believing in her.
She had to do it.
Her throat closed up at the realization, and then a hot tear slid down her cheek.
“Hey, are you okay?” Trace asked, and kissed the top of her head.
Unable to speak, Dakota nodded.
“So you’re not going to tell me what’s bothering you?” While his question was casual, his tone held a measure of hurt.
“Let’s talk in the morning,” Dakota answered, trying to stay calm, but the husky tremble in her voice gave her away. Realizing she was still clutching the phone in her hand, she placed it on the chaise longue and snuggled against his warm body with her head on his chest.
“If that’s what you want, but I don’t think either of us will sleep unless we talk about the phone call.”
She nodded but remained silent, and swallowed hot moisture that gathered in her throat.
“I’m not trying to pry, but you can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”
Dakota nodded again and said hesitantly, “The call was from my manager. She said that Vince Marruso of Sundial Records loves my new songs and wants me in the studio.”
“That’s good news,” he said, but Dakota felt the slight tightening of his muscles in his arms. “When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
“I was supposed to come here to find an edgy, kick-ass style, but apparently they want a more mature country version of my pop days—an older Taylor Swift kind of sound that’s really hot right at the moment.”
“It all makes sense now,” he said quietly. “You never truly planned on moving back here, did you?”
Dakota’s heart pumped hard at his sudden distant tone. “I wasn’t sure what I wanted, Trace.”
“Yes, you did. We were just the inspiration for your new material, nothing more.”
“How can you say that? This marina—Grady, Sierra, especially you—all played a part, but that’s not just who you are to me, Trace.”
“Right,” he said in a short, clipped tone.
Dakota pushed up to her elbow. “You’re not being fair.”
“And you think using all of us is fair? We were just a means to an end for you,” he said darkly, and then laughed without humor. “When will I ever learn?”
“Learn what?” Dakota asked, and swallowed hard. This was not happening.
“Women are users. You’re no different. And I was stupid enough to think that I was …” He shook his head and looked away.
“That you were what?”
“Nothing,” he answered tersely, but then sighed. “Good luck, Dakota.” He pushed up to a sitting position and rested his forearms on his knees. “Look, I don’t blame you. If I could go back to bull riding, I’d get the hell out of here and do it in a heartbeat.”
“Really?” Dakota asked softly. “Would you?”
“Sure.” He angled his head toward her cabin and then looked away. “Go on and get a good night’s sleep. You’ve got a big day ahead of you. So just go.”
While Trace’s harsh words cut deeply, Dakota wasn’t sure she believed him. “Do you really want me to leave, Trace? Say the word and I won’t.”
His head snapped up and his heart beat like a jackhammer. He suddenly knew that she wasn’t talking about just tonight.
“Give me a reason to stay,” she said in a calm, even tone, and waited.
Trace knew that she wanted him to say that he loved her, and God help him, he did. He knew she wanted him to tell her not to go, and she wouldn’t. He knew it. But how could he? Music was her dream, in her blood, and she was talented. He fully understood how she felt and would not, could not take that away from her. He loved her way too much, and even though it killed him, he forced his tone to be cold, harsh, and said, “Go on back to your music, Dakota. It’s the reason you came here in the first place. It would have been nice if you had been honest from the start, but whatever.” He shrugged. “You got what you wanted and then some. Now go. Let me get back to my peaceful life before you barged into it.”
“Come with me.”
For a moment, her request stunned him. “And carry your bags?” he asked, even though part of him wanted to throw his stuff in a duffle bag and follow her to the ends of the earth. “I know I’m the hired help, but no thank you,” he added, and looked away.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she answered.
The tremble in Dakota’s voice made Trace want to take her into his arms and hold her close. He also worried about her heading out on her own. She was too giving, too trusting, and he wished he could be by her side to protect her and watch over her, but he forced himself not to think that way. The rigors of the road would be tough, and seriously, what would he do all day? Plus, the fact that he worked his ass off here at the marina and she seemed to think he was replaceable hurt as well.
“You might not realize it, Princess, but your investment is in my hands. Willow Creek Marina makes a tidy profit because I work hard. I even …” he said, and then stopped himself.
“You what?”
“Nothing.”
She looked at him sharply. “You put some of your own cash up, didn’t you?”
“Hell, no. I blew all my money. I was down to my last twenty bucks when your father found me.”
Dakota gazed at him for a long, measuring moment. “Then you got some money from somewhere,” she said, almost more to herself than to him, and then her eyes widened. “What did you sell?”
“Nothing!” he said, but made the mistake of glancing at his hand.
“Oh, my God.
” She put her fingertips to her lips. “Your Ring of Honor?”
Trace would have denied it, but she pinned him with her gaze. “It meant nothing, and this marina means a lot to this community and the people who work here.”
“But your ring? Trace, that ring is only given to bull riding legends. It represents strength and courage.”
“Dakota, your father rescued me from the path I was heading down. I was like a snowball heading straight to hell. The least I could do was save this marina. It was the right thing to do.”
“The honorable thing.” She shook her head slowly and reached out to him, but he ignored her trembling hand.
“You’re giving me more credit than I deserve.”
“But—”
“It was a piece of jewelry. Forget about it. Look, Princess, if your little trip to Nashville doesn’t pan out, you need me running this place. I know it’s just a fishing camp and small marina, but the livelihood of many depends on me. I don’t like to let people down.”
“Believe me, I fully understand. And I didn’t mean to make light of what you do here. I’m sorry. For everything.” She put a hand on his knee. “And yes, you’re right. I came here to get my act together and resurrect my career. I didn’t intend to stay.” She gripped his knee tighter. “But, Trace, I didn’t know that I would—”
“Stop it, Dakota,” Trace harshly interrupted. If she said that she loved him, he would ask her to stay and that would simply be wrong. He could see in her eyes that she wanted him to, but how would she feel a month from now? A year from now? He could not let her pass up this amazing opportunity. He knew how it felt to be on top of the world, and Dakota was lucky enough to be getting the second chance of a lifetime. He would not ruin it for her, and so again he forced his tone to be hard. “Go back to the bright lights where you belong, Dakota.”
“This is my home,” she protested hotly.
“Really? You might have been born in Tall Rock, but you’ll never fit in here. You’re a city chick through and through,” he said, knowing he was hitting close to the bone, but he pressed on even harder. “Besides, what we had here was fleeting, and what you are being offered is the chance to fulfill your dreams for the rest of your life. Don’t screw it up because of this.” He swung his hand in an arc.