by Brynn Paulin
“I know,” Sully told him.
Pete’s jerked nod tore at her heart. He thought he had to be strong and here he was losing two of his closest friends. Deep down, she suspected that if he wasn’t foreman at the Flying D, he might even have gone with them. But he couldn’t. Sully and Cord were leaving; she was leaving, too. He’d be alone.
She slid from her seat and climbed onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Behind her, she heard Cord and Sully leaving the room. She just pressed her face into Pete comforting him and wishing she could stay. This wasn’t all about her—she wasn’t so shallow to think so—but that didn’t change the truth she was coming to realize with painful clarity. She didn’t want to go, not because she felt sorry for Pete and didn’t want him to be alone, but because she needed to be here.
She just…didn’t know how.
Chapter Seven
“Will you stay?”
Moon was snuggled into Pete’s chest, the warmth of the thick quilt cocooning them in comfort. His voice was a rumble beneath her cheek as she rested on his chest, his heartbeat, lulling her to sleep.
“What?” she asked drowsily. He’d made love to her for the last hour, exploring every nuance of her body until she writhed on the sheets then he’d brought her to repeated orgasm until she begged him to plow inside her. He’d taken her with such thorough and intense ferocity, the pain and worries he was trying to hide driving him. She could see it in him, feel it in his touch, but she left it unspoken. It didn’t need to be said. He knew. She knew.
Afterward, it seemed as if he’d drained every bit of energy from her and consumed it. She could barely get her eyes back open.
“Don’t go back. Stay here with me.”
That got her eyes open. She lifted her head with great effort to peer at him. “You’re worried about being alone,” she observed.
He gently smoothed the line between her eyebrows and shook his head. “I know my timing sucks. I’m not asking because Cord and Sully are going. I was planning to ask you anyway.”
“I’m not the woman you need, Pete. Trust me. You don’t want me. I’m not the girl for you.”
“You’re the one I feel myself falling for. The one I can see forever with.”
“No. No, Pete. It’s just the sex. The availability. When I go, you’ll see. It’s too soon for you to want what you think you do.”
Sighing, he pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. His hand splayed on her hip then slid to her waist and up to the side of her breast. “You make me sound like a lovesick schoolboy,” he accused, full of regret. “Do you know when it started? It wasn’t in this house. It wasn’t that night out at camp. It was before that.”
“Before that? But we hadn’t even dated—”
“Yeah. Before that,” he verified. He opened his eyes and stared into hers. “Every time I’d made an excuse to run into you, every time I teased you about all the gifts you were getting from smitten cowpokes, every time I wrangled the privilege of being the go between for the Flying D and the rodeo committee… It was all because I was completely taken with you. I was worse than all those other cowboys. I just didn’t want to be taken for a schmuck, so I didn’t tell you. I knew I wanted you long before your car broke down in the middle of nowhere and I was the lucky jerk who got to rescue you.”
Moon stared at him aghast, her throat closed up. She was so turned on by his words yet horrified at the same time. She had to end his infatuation before he got even more hurt than he’d already be. Before he actually professed to love her.
Pain and embarrassment for what she had to do tore at her. Shaking, she slid away from him and reached for the thick, silky robe she’d dropped by the bed earlier. She shrugged into it and wrapped it tight around her body like armor. It wasn’t nearly substantial enough to guard her from the reaction she was about to get or the shattering inside her, because she really wanted to stay with him but knew she couldn’t.
She wasn’t worthy of him. She steeled herself, erecting the emotional barrier she’d needed so many times over the years when people had accused her of being a good for nothing whore. Her lip trembled at the thought of him thinking that, and she bit it.
“I don’t do permanent,” she started. “That’s a reason I always turned everyone down. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.” She lifted a shoulder. “My sisters think that’s why I took off so fast from Daly after that night with you guys—not because of a job, but because I was scared of committing. They’re wrong, you know,” she said almost under her breath as she turned toward his dresser.
She met his gaze in the mirror. He’d stayed in the bed, but he now sat with his back against the wooden headboard, the sheet pooled around his hips. Her eyes strayed to the sharply defined ridges of his belly, remembering them under her mouth.
Quickly, she looked away and watched her finger as she traced the edge of the dresser. “I didn’t leave because I was scared of commitment. I left because I can’t—I couldn’t let you want me, if that was the result, then walk away and hurt you.”
“So don’t.”
She turned, bracing her hands on the edge behind her as she studied him. “I’m not some pure as snow near-virgin, you know.”
“Neither am I.” He jerked his head toward the hallway. “Neither are they.”
Moon allowed a half-smile. Well…maybe just a quarter. She barely allowed her lips to move into more than a brief deprecating twist. Her chest jerked in a single unreleased laugh. “When I was growing up, my mom was a wanderer. You’d think from my name and my sisters’ names that she was a hippie, but she wasn’t. She just…could never settle. If things ever got uncomfortable—which they did a lot—she’d pack us up and drag us somewhere else. And wherever we landed, she was never there. She was off with her new free-thinking friends. Paisley took care of us. She was great; I was disconnected. We never had roots. We never belonged.”
She took a deep breath and hardened herself for what was coming. Pete was watching her carefully as if ready to jump up and right any wrong that had been done to her, to maim whoever had hurt her and make it right.
There was no right. Not anymore. Not for her.
She looked him square in the eye so he couldn’t mistake her words. “The only time I felt as if I belonged was when I was in someone’s arms. When I was under someone. When they were kissing me and being as close as a person can be. When we were one.”
Pete closed his eyes for a second and nodded, but she couldn’t stop.
“It was my fallback. Things got tough for me or I didn’t want to talk about something, so we’d fuck. It was the most alone I’ve ever been, but don’t be mistaken. There were a lot of men. They all vied to fuck me—I was easy pickings for any boy who wanted to get off. And all the girls called me a slut. A whore.” She shrugged. “It was my escape. My drug—the only way I could find the momentary belonging I wanted. It started in eighth grade and continued into the beginning of college when I got a little sense.” She tilted her head. “And some roots. Real friends. I stopped hating myself, and I stayed away from sex. Until you three.” She let out a mirthless laugh. “I guess when I relapsed I relapsed big.”
Pete slowly climbed out of the bed and walked toward her as carefully as if he was trying to corner a skittish heifer. He seemed a little shell-shocked. He hadn’t said a word, but she knew he must be disgusted by her. He’d want her out of his room now.
“I’ll go,” she said before he could kick her out. Just telling him this was humiliation enough.
As she turned, he caught her arms. “I don’t want you to go,” he said, his words firm but quiet. “I still don’t want you to go. Your past is in the past. Everyone has one. We all have secrets. Yours doesn’t matter to me—except for the part where I hurt for how lonely you were that you had to seek out comfort wherever you could get it.”
She stared up at him in surprise. He wasn’t really saying this. He didn’t mean it. He was just placating her. There was no comprehensible way that he d
idn’t find her worthless. She knew she wasn’t—she’d worked hard on that—but other people thought differently.
Or maybe he saw her as a charity project. Or he was so desperate for someone, he’d take even her.
Almost unconsciously, she shook her head.
“Moon, listen to me.” His hands tightened, his eyes almost angry as if he’d read her thoughts. “Everyone has a past and things they’re ashamed of,” he repeated. “All of us. If you keep running will that get you any closer to the intimacy you crave?”
“It’s not mine to have anymore.”
“Bullshit,” he swore. “It’s right here for you to take. And just so we’re clear—very, very clear—what you just told me…it doesn’t make me want you any less than I did before. And not because I might be lucky enough to make love to you from time to time. I like you. You. I want you in my life.” He stepped back and held up a hand. “Look…I know you’re not going to say yes right now, but think about it. Give me a chance to prove this doesn’t matter to me. You matter and that’s it.”
She wasn’t sure she could believe him, but she slowly nodded.
Pete took her back to bed, where he pulled her into his arms and held her. He didn’t try to make love to her again, and damn her utterly cantankerous psyche, she wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Actually, it kinda pissed her off for some reason.
“What?” he asked when she sighed, out of sorts, and shifted so she faced away from him.
“I don’t know,” she answered petulantly.
He chuckled. “I can’t win. Should I be the good guy or the asshole who just wants some?”
She turned on her back and looked at him. He’d raised up on his elbow and was studying her. His other hand was still at her waist and seemed to burn her through the robe she hadn’t removed. She wanted him to slip those fingers inside… “You’re not an asshole.”
“As long as you’re clear on that. I guess you should turn back the other way and let me jam the white hat back on my head. Please ignore my gun if it accidentally pokes you in the back. I can’t help it.”
“You know…the last and only time I told someone about my past…well, it was someone I thought I might get serious with. He asked me if I have an STD and if he should get tested then ran as fast as his leather loafers could take him. After that, I knew I couldn’t expect more than being alone. I had to make peace with it.”
“There’s your problem right there. A: He was obviously an asshole and B: Loafers? Seriously? Real men wear boots,” Pete declared.
“A lot of men would differ with you on that.”
“Not the badass ones. Or the ones who matter in this scenario. So…this jerk. He’s the reason you won’t give me and my boys a chance? What’s his name? We need to talk.”
“Pete!”
In reply, he leaned over and kissed her. She groaned as his lips moved over hers, the only bit of his body touching her. Her body softened in arousal, readying for more. Then he slid to her side again, adjusted her body so she was spooned to him and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist.
“Think,” he said.
She turned her head and moaned into the pillow. Think? All he could say was think? Her fingers clenched in the sheet. What the hell did he imagine she’d been doing?
* * * *
Somehow, Pete had managed to disentangle himself in the night without disturbing her because when she woke at half-past the butt crack of dawn, he was gone. He’d left her a brief note on the bed stand telling her Cord and Sully had gone into Gillette and he’d be back at noon for lunch. At the bottom of the message, he’d written: Think. Love you, Pete.
Love you, Pete? When had he gotten to love?
The revelation unsettled her, but not in the bad way she would have expected. Truth be told, she loved him, too. It was one of the reason she’d tried, apparently unsuccessfully, to push him away.
Now, she was too keyed up to sleep even though the sun had barely begun to break the horizon. She decided she might as well get up and do her daily “Ree-search” before the day got away from her. The man was always in some sort of trouble so it was highly likely she’d find something his publicist would have to address. Usually, the publicist would be the one doing this search, not her, but Ree had hired a friend who was pretty much along for the ride and didn’t do what he didn’t have to.
If she stayed here, she wouldn’t miss him.
She froze halfway across the bedroom floor. Was she actually considering staying? Sure, she’d had half-hearted wishful thinking, but she’d never been so close to a concrete decision. A flutter took up in her chest, and she shook her head to clear it.
A shower. She needed a shower. Then coffee. Lots of it.
But if Pete really loved her…
“Oh shut up, Moon!” she exclaimed.
Truculently, her brain wouldn’t shut off. Love you, Pete. Love you, Pete, it chanted until she was ready to grind her teeth.
By the time she got out of the shower and dressed, frustration vibrated through her. She practically stomped to the kitchen to make coffee. She’d almost reached the counter when a movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Turning, she saw the same man from yesterday skulking through the backyard again, and in that instant, she realized it hadn’t been her imagination at all.
Her blood froze as terror scraped through her veins.
She was pretty sure he didn’t see her since all the lights were off in the house, but she quickly moved to the far side of the kitchen and pressed to the wall. She slid sideways, all the while keeping her eye on the man. As she moved, she tried to take in everything about him she could. Tall-ish, slim, almost gangly. Unruly red hair, faded by sunlight or maybe time. Perhaps mid to late forties. His face was drawn as he concentrated on his mission or whatever he was doing. Trouble. The stealthy, nearly side-winding way he moved spoke clearly of trouble. His gaze shifted from side to side as he approached the solarium windows.
Moon finally reached the phone. She grabbed the receiver and quickly dialed Pete. The call went directly to voicemail. Shit! She redialed with the same result.
Okay. The main house then. Sun’s chipper voice chirped across the line filling Moon with relief. As she watched, the man outside seemed to be examining the window edges.
“Sun,” Moon hissed. “I can’t get Pete on the line.”
“Oh, he must be in a dead spot. Why are you whispering?”
“There’s someone outside the house. I saw him yesterday and thought I’d imagined it, but he looks like he’s trying to get in.”
“Oh my God. Hold on. I’ll get on the radio.”
Moon heard the phone drop then Sun’s rapid-fire words a short distance away. Moon couldn’t hear what her sister was saying, but the frantic tenor frayed the last bit of her nerves. Her hand shook as she waited and she scooted back along the wall, stretching the phone cord as far as it would reach as she tried to get to the knife block.
“Moon!” Sun exclaimed as she came back to the phone. “I got Pete on the radio. He and a couple guys are on their way over. So is the sheriff. If you haven’t been spotted, stay out of sight.”
“I am,” she whispered. Then as if he’d heard Sun’s warning, the trespasser looked up—directly at Moon. In shadows, his eyes narrowed and seemed to take on a menacing light. And he smiled. He freaking smiled at her. His fingertip tapped the window, pointing at her as if his hand were a gun, then he walked away.
Moon knew she should go to the window and see where he’d gone, but she couldn’t get her feet to move. Ice skated over her skin as she clenched the phone and stared at the spot where the man had been.
“Moon! Moon, what’s wrong?” Sun exclaimed.
“I’m fine,” Moon replied and tried to ease the breathing that had probably triggered her sister’s panic. “He saw me, and now he’s gone.”
She pressed her lips together, unwilling to worry her sister further with the details. Despite the man leaving, she couldn’t help but
feel she’d just been put on notice. She’d become a target. If it was because she’d seen him or because she was in the guys’ house, she didn’t know.
Her whole body shook as she stepped from where she leaned against the wall and walked toward the windows as far as the phone’s cord stretched. In the distance, she heard a vehicle and the spray of gravel.
“Moon,” Pete yelled as the front door slammed open.
“In here,” she called. Thankfully, her voice sounded stronger than she felt. Pete didn’t need her melting into a wallowing puddle at his feet. “Pete’s here. I’m going to hang up now,” she told Sun.
Pete was beside her almost before she had the phone in the cradle.
“Are you okay?” he demanded, grasping her shoulders and studying her.
“I’m fine. He wasn’t inside. Just scared the hell out of me.” She bit her lip and shook her head. “He saw me watching him just before he took off.”
“Good. Maybe getting spotted will scare him away.”
She shook her head again. “No, I don’t think so.” She didn’t want to tell Pete what had happened—she wanted to believe the evil in that gaze had been her imagination—but that would be stupid. Really stupid. The man she’d seen had a plan. “He…smiled at me,” she said. “Sorta mean. And he pointed at me. He didn’t seem scared at all.”
Pete sucked in a breath and took a step backward. “Fuck!” he hissed under his breath. He shoved his hand through his hair, his face squinched in worry and consternation then he squared his shoulders and pinned her with a determined stare. “You can’t stay here alone, Moon—”
“I’m sure I’ll be okay—” She pressed her lips together and sighed. “Crap…” she whispered. The intruder was screwing with her relationship chances—and if it truly was Sam… Well, his negligence had resulted in her original job loss in the first place. His continued interference would make her leave once more.
“What is it?” Pete asked.
“He was examining the windows. Maybe looking for a way in or something. Or maybe that’s just me overreacting. When I saw him yesterday—”
