What It Takes (A Dirt Road Love Story)

by Sonya Loveday

  What It Takes

  Sonya Loveday

  Copyright © 2017 Sonya Loveday

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and

  incidents are either product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manor whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Najla Qamber Design

  http://www.najlaqamberdesigns.com/

  Formatted by Sonya Loveday

  Edited by Editing Services by Cynthia Shepp

  http://cynthiashepp.com

  Published by Sonya Loveday

  First Edition

  ISBN: 1544940572

  ISBN-13: 978-1544940571

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Note from the author

  Did you enjoy What It Takes?

  About the Author

  Newsletter

  Books by Sonya Loveday

  Chapter 1

  Gracen

  “You can’t be serious,” Slade huffed, reaching out to steady me as I tottered on what felt like mile-high heels.

  “I’m officially twenty-one, Slade. I’m not supposed to be serious.” I fought the urge to fidget under his scrutinizing gaze as I answered him, knowing full well he meant my choice in footwear. Had I thought about how difficult it would be to maneuver through a gravel parking lot in a pair of heels meant for anything but loose rocks, I would have worn boots. But I wasn’t going to admit it. Not even to him. Admittedly, to myself only, wearing heels knowing I had to cross a gravel parking lot made about as much sense as wearing makeup while rounding up cattle in the middle of August.

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

  I glanced up at him. “You’re in a particularly foul mood tonight. Bad day?” I steered the conversation away from myself as I looked toward the neon lights of Rowdy’s. My stomach fluttered with excitement.

  Rowdy’s wasn’t just a bar. It was the bar. Ever since it was built a few years back, I’d been drawn to the planked-board sides with neon lights and its air of secrecy. I’d dreamed of walking through its double swinging doors since the lights turned on and the music could be heard outside the doors when you drove by. The cowboys, oh, the cowboys, who walked into that bar were something to see. It was like my own little personal oasis just waiting for me to be of age.

  Not to mention the fact I’d basically struck out everywhere else. Boyfriend wise, that was. Finding the guy who would steal my heart and make me walk with my head in the clouds because my feet couldn’t find the ground wasn’t too much to ask for. Having someone hold me close and dip their head in to kiss my neck as we slow danced wasn’t either. I wanted that so bad; I craved it.

  Finding the other half of me had been the biggest challenge of my life to date. I knew I was young, and I had my whole life ahead of me. I’d been told it all before.

  And no, I wasn’t shallow or out of touch with reality.

  I was lonely.

  “You’re not even dressed right to go in there,” Slade said, chuckling when I stumbled again.

  “What do you know anyway?” I huffed, swatting him with my beaded clutch.

  It only made him laugh a little more.

  “I know this is a honkey-tonk,” he answered, pausing long enough to maneuver us around a dip in the sidewalk. “What you’re wearing shouts city-slicker.”

  “Because I’m in a dress and heels? FYI, Slade, guys like dresses and heels,” I shot back at him.

  What the hell was wrong with him? I knew he liked to give me a hard time, but damn.

  “FYI, Gracen, guys don’t care. Especially guys in a bar. What sort of attention are you looking to get walking in there like that?” His chin jerked toward the front entrance.

  “You think I dressed like this for attention?” I had to admit that hurt.

  “I know you are,” he answered, bringing me to a halt and turning me to face him.

  The night air was hot. Even the slight breeze felt warm. The hiss and ping coming from the line of cars in the front row of the parking lot dotted the silence between us. I didn’t want to fight with Slade, but he was making it almost impossible not to. Just because we’d been friends for what seemed like forever didn’t mean he had the right to be a complete bastard to me on my birthday.

  “Can we just go inside now?” I asked, hoping he’d stop nagging me for once.

  “When are you going to realize this fantasy you have of finding ‘the one’ in a crowd full of people isn’t how it works?” he asked.

  “That’s not what tonight is about,” I said, poking him in the chest. “If I would have known you’d throw what I said back in my face, I never would have told you.”

  Slade pulled his hat off his head and slapped it against his denim-encased thigh. “But you did tell me. So answer me this… what’s your real agenda tonight? Because I don’t really want to sit back and watch you get groped when I can go home and sleep.”

  I hated when he did that. It always made me see him in a different, non-Slade sort of way. Because even though he was my best friend, he was still the most beautiful guy I’d ever seen. I’d never in a million years tell him, though. Just like I’d never tell him he was the one I measured every guy up against. And it wasn’t because I was in love with him. Sure, I loved him. He’d been there for me over the years and vice-versa. We’d been around each other so long we knew what made the other tick. We knew how to get under each other’s skin. We fought. We laughed. We were just us. And the last thing I wanted to do was ruin years of friendship by saying something I couldn’t take back. Something that might make him take a huge step away from me. I needed him too much to lose him.

  But there were times when I saw him out of the corner of my eye and it left me breathless. He was everything I was looking for, but couldn’t have because I knew I wasn’t it for him. I was okay with that. I made peace with it years ago after watching the types of girls he went for. I wasn’t anything like the girls he’d dated. In fact, I didn’t measure up to anything he was looking for. Which I supposed was okay, because it made it a whole lot easier to accept.

  Even when he didn’t want to, he humored most of my harebrained ideas. Which was why he’d agreed to escort me to Rowdy’s, on a Wednesday night, when he had to be up at four in the morning to start his day.

  “If you really didn’t want to come with me, all you had to do was say so.” I crossed my arms, giving him a stern look.

  His gaze raked me from the top of my head to my death-trap-encased feet and smirked. “If you think I’d leave you up to your own devices, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “I don’t have any devices. And you’re being a jerk. It’s my birthday, so give me a damn break,” I huffed.

  He shoved his hat back on his head w
ith a sigh, turned, and held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  The warn chambray button-up shirt he wore was soft against my skin. Inhaling the head-swimming scent of his cologne, I covered my sigh of appreciation by saying, “You clean up pretty good, Slade.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Would it kill you to pay me a compliment back?” I was totally fishing, but hey, a girl liked to be told she at least looked nice.

  He looked me up and down again and said, “Probably.”

  I tugged my arm from his. “Just go home. It’s obvious you don’t want to be here.”

  He caught my hand in his. “I’m sorry, Gracen. I’m tired. It’s been a long couple of days, and I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

  I batted my eyelashes at him, putting our disagreement on hold, and said, “You could make it up to me.”

  Slade’s only reply was a sort of humming noise as we approached the entrance of Rowdy’s. My heart did a little summersault as a wave of heat rolled through my body that had nothing to do with the outside temperature.

  Finally. I was only steps away from being able to see the inside of the notorious Rowdy’s.

  “You can buy me a drink,” I added, letting go of his arm and digging my ID from my purse.

  The guy manning the door tipped his hat at Slade without even looking down at the ID I’d shoved in his direction.

  Grumbling, I put my ID back in my clutch. I’d had it all planned too. First was walking all sultry like up the sidewalk to the bar. A few catcalls, or maybe a whistle or two, would happen. I’d pull out my ID for the doorman and he’d give me a once-over, look back at my ID, and wish me a happy birthday with a wink.

  None of it happened. Not a damn bit of it, blowing my daydream out the water from the very beginning.

  And worse?

  No live band.

  Music pumped through the speakers as a dance instructor called out the next move for the group of line dancers crowding the dance floor.

  “Gracen?” Slade bumped his arm into mine to get my attention.

  And no wonder he did. I’d stopped right inside the doors, not sure if I wanted to be there anymore.

  Slade waited beside me, biting his lip as his eyes searched mine. Stay or go? his eyes asked.

  “I need a drink,” I said, forcing myself to move toward the bar.

  Chapter 2

  Slade

  “Lucky for you, we’re in a bar,” I said, winking at her before pulling a barstool out. Helping her sit, I allowed myself to take another long look at her silky-smooth legs while her eyes darted all over the place.

  I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and hold her against my chest when I saw the disappointment on her face. I knew how much she’d looked forward to going to Rowdy’s. I knew how excited she was about turning twenty-one.

  And God help me, I knew she was searching for her soulmate. She’d talked about finding her other half for so long that the pain of it had scabbed over years ago, or so I always told myself. It would never be me. Moving forward, knowing it, was like rubbing a lemon juice and salt concoction into a wound that just wouldn’t heal.

  Gracen had no idea how beautiful she was. Dressed the way she was, it was almost impossible to look away. On a normal day, she was the kind of beautiful that robbed my ability to think straight. Every single woman I dated, I chose specifically to be as different from Gracen as I could, hoping that with enough practice, I could make myself look at her and not want her with every fiber of my being.

  Even though I’d had years to perfect keeping my face neutral, it would slip every once in a while. She’d get a peek of the raw emotion that bled through because it was too much to contain. When it did, she’d give me an odd look, and then crack a joke to see me smile. I’d heave a huge sigh of internal relief that she’d once again misinterpreted it, because I couldn’t lose her friendship.

  The draw to her had gotten to be so much that I knew if I didn’t do something, and soon, I’d ruin everything with her. Somewhere, there was a lucky bastard who’d eventually steal her right out from under my nose, and there wouldn’t be a damn thing I could do about it. I already hated him—whoever he was.

  She had no idea the kind of hold she had on me. I’d do just about anything to make her happy, which was how I got roped into a Wednesday night birthday celebration at Rowdy’s. I’d expected her to be in boots, a pair of jeans that molded her just right, and maybe one of those sparkly looking shirts she occasionally liked to wear. That was not the case.

  When she came down the stairs, I almost forgot my place. Almost forgot our boundaries. I watched her the whole way down, fighting every urge to claim her. When she made it to the bottom step, I’d dipped my head at her and turned away, using the excuse of petting Lucy when she’d nose-butted my hand.

  It was easier that way. Better to keep my eyes from all the skin Gracen left exposed with the black lace dress that stopped just shy of being indecent. And the high heels? I had so many visions of what I wanted to do to her in those shoes. Too many. Starting with lifting her up and wrapping her long legs around me, so I could lay her down on the stairs and…

  “What should we start off with?” Gracen asked, snapping me back to reality.

  I fought to keep my voice from sounding strained as the bartender waited for us to order.

  Gracen wiggled her eyebrows at me. “I think I’ll have a sex on the beach.”

  The bartender stalled a second longer than necessary as his eyes zeroed in on her chest.

  I slid my hand along the back of Gracen’s chair and said, “I’ll have a Corona,” hoping he’d take the hint. He saw me, but that didn’t stop him from winking at her before sauntering off to fill our drink order.

  Gracen, oblivious to his ogling, turned to me and gave me a smile that could have powered an entire ranch. Rowdy’s was Garwood’s newest watering hole that didn’t allow anyone under the age of twenty-one in. Gracen had always talked about the day she’d finally be able to step inside and soak it all in. I wasn’t sure she realized that, on most days, Rowdy’s was just another bar in a small Texas town. In her mind, she’d built it up like she did everything else.

  “So birthday girl, what do you think of Rowdy’s?” I asked, turning in my seat and putting my feet on either side of hers on the barstool rungs.

  Sitting like that held a slight advantage for me. Her legs were in between mine, making it look like we were there together as more than just friends. Not that I had too much to worry about considering most of the people at Rowdy’s were there to learn new line dances, ignoring those who chose to sit at the bar.

  Gracen linked her fingers together in her lap and tilted her head, scrunching her face in a cute way. A kissable way.

  Leaning back a little, I draped my arm over the back of my barstool to keep from reaching out and pulling her into my lap.

  She shrugged, causing her wavy auburn hair to cascade over her shoulders. I longed to twine my fingers through it and feel the heavy silkiness. Most days, Gracen had her hair up in a ponytail, sometimes a bun, to keep it off her neck. She couldn’t stand the feel of it in her face. Seeing it down was almost like seeing part of her she kept covered all the time.

  There was something about Gracen that made my whole body come alive. All she had to do was look at me with those green-flecked eyes and I’d do whatever she wanted, however she wanted. It would wreck me to lose her, so I took what I could get. Our friendship. And it meant more to me than anything else in the world. When she met whoever it was she searched for, I’d probably curl up and cease to exist anymore.

  She flicked her hair back over her shoulder with an irritated scowl. “I think I got all dressed up for nothing.”

  “Why’d you wear it down if all you’re gonna do is fight with it?” I asked, pulling my hand back before it made contact with the silken strands that taunted me.

  She slapped my knee with a huff. “Because I wanted to look nice tonight. You know… get dressed up and actually feel like a wom
an for once.”

  What felt like a million volts of electricity zipped up my leg, spreading like wildfire along every nerve ending. Usually, I could keep it in check, but having her sitting in front of me dressed like a siren bent on luring the opposite sex to her bed did nothing but make me want to be the one to peel her dress off.

  I shook my head, scoffing at the thought of it. I needed to get my head straight and stop fantasizing that Gracen would see me as more than her friend.

  “What’s so hard to believe about that?” she asked. Clearly, she’d misinterpreted my reaction.

  A beer landed by my elbow with a solid thud before I could answer.

  “A sex on the beach for the beautiful lady,” the bartender said as he slid Gracen’s drink across the bar to her.

  He leaned in a little closer, giving her his undivided attention. “Anything else I can get you?”

  She turned a full megawatt smile on him. “A shot of top-shelf tequila.”

  “If I have to carry you out of here, it’s gonna be over my shoulder, and the whole place will see your ass in the air,” I grumbled, watching the two of them stare at each other.

  “I could always take you home,” the bartender said, tossing me a smug smile.

  “Like hell you will,” I answered under my breath. I probably could have shouted it and neither one of them would have heard me.

  “What’s your name?” Gracen asked him.

  He gave her a smoldering look. “Name’s Tanner, but darlin’, I’ll be whoever you want me to be,” he answered, leaning his elbows on the bar to get closer to her.