by Cara McKenna
He got his hips between her legs, and in a breath his mouth was seeking hers, hungry, hands hot on her waist. Behind his jeans, he was hard and eager, and her head spun. He was two men at once—the trusted friend she’d known forever, and this complete stranger hiding inside that familiar skin. She hugged her legs to him, urging. If she’d been wearing a skirt, they could have become lovers with the mere lowering of a zipper and a tug of fabric. She raked her fingers through his hair, imagining such a moment.
Where have you been? she wanted to ask. Did I make you this way, or have I been blind all along?
His breathing was strained, heavy, and she needed that panting right at her ear, and the weight of him above her. Needed to see him as she hadn’t in years—stripped.
It had been nearly half a lifetime since they’d gotten naked together, and he’d been gorgeous back then—young and lean and strong, tan in the sunshine and dripping water as he’d stood from the creek. But he’d changed since that bygone summer, same as Raina’s taste in men’s bodies. He was bigger, taller, more muscled, and like his thick stubble, the black hair on his chest and framing his cock would reflect that he was a man now.
Through his tee, his skin blazed hot, even in the cool night air. She slid her palms under his sleeves and squeezed his shoulders, his biceps, and in turn, he put his hands to her neck. She shivered. Goddamn, those hands. He worked with rope and wood and leather and tools for hours each and every day, and his touch reflected it. Maybe he couldn’t feel a lot through the thick, rough skin of his palms and fingertips, but Raina reveled in the sensation, wanting to feel more of what had given him these hands—mastery and labor, and the sure, natural motions of a man who lived through his body.
“You feel good.” She whispered it against his lips as her hands admired the chest hiding behind his shirt.
He pressed his face to her throat, smelled her skin, tasted it, moaned. She whispered his name and raked her nails through his hair, let him feel her hunger in the contact.
Another low moan and a suck of breath. “I’ve gotta fuck you, honey. If I don’t I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind.”
Raina flushed, from the words as much as the contact. She’d never known Miah to talk this way, and the power she felt, driving him to it, was intoxicating. She’d set that pulse ticking along his throat, put that fire in his dark eyes. She’d turned the steadiest man she knew wild, and she couldn’t wait to see what would happen when she cut him loose.
She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“No, right here.”
She laughed. “It’s fifty degrees out, if we’re lucky. I’m not fucking in a parking lot when there’s a perfectly good bed up there, in my nice warm apartment.”
He pulled away, fishing in his jeans pocket and producing keys. “Get in the truck.”
Raina cooled, frozen for a moment. Something had happened to her a few years back, something nasty that had left her cagey at the sensation of feeling pushed by a guy.
But this was Miah. A man she’d known practically her whole life, whom she trusted more than anyone else she could name. She gave herself a breath to take him in—the shape of his arms, lit by the red neon sign above them and the white bulb of the lot’s one light; the way his shirt fell over his chest. That gleam in his eyes. And with that, his gruff order went from upending to arousing.
Get in the truck, he’d said. What else might she hear in that familiar voice, now turned exotic and new by his excitement? Touch me. Spread your legs. Make me come.
“You good to drive?”
He nodded, and she knew how true that was—that shot was the only taste he’d had in hours. Miah seemed to have left drunkenness behind with his twenties, even on such an occasion as Vince’s homecoming.
“Okay, then.” She circled to the passenger side. Her legs felt funny, but not from any kind of misgiving. From excitement. Like electricity was humming through her muscles, fluttering between her thighs. She heard his tailgate slam. Miah Church. Easily the most eligible bachelor in the county—sole heir to the town’s biggest business, from a family that was basically royalty in a place like Fortuity. And gorgeous, to boot. And here she was, the wanton owner of a dive bar with maybe a thousand bucks to her name, about to go home with him. Figuratively.
He brushed in front of her to unlock her door.
“Thanks.”
He cast her a look, a tiny nod that stood in for a tip of the black Stetson she found sitting on her seat. He climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. The radio roused and he turned the volume down on the classic rock.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he turned them onto a deserted Station Street.
“A place I know.”
“Not Big Rock?”
He laughed. “We’re not teenagers anymore. Gimme some credit.”
She relaxed. True, Big Rock was the place out in the badlands where horny kids went to get drunk and high and laid and not get caught doing it, but Raina hated that spot for reasons that extended beyond its tackiness. What could have been the worst night of her life had nearly happened there, though Miah didn’t know about it.
“Where, then?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
The cab was roomy and she leaned over to rest her palm on his thigh. “You’re full of surprises tonight.”
He covered her hand with his, pressing it to his leg, stroking her knuckles with those hard fingertips. “Tell me you’ve been wanting this.”
“In a way.”
He shot her a look as the road straightened. “In a way?”
“You’re gorgeous; I always wanted you that way. You know, nothing serious, just like a simmering, harmless crush. But you’re different tonight—way different than I ever expected.”
“How so?”
She smiled. “I’d have expected a gentleman, and you feel like more of an outlaw.”
Miah laughed softly. “That’s all on you.”
“I’m going to claw your clothes off right here if we don’t get wherever we’re going really fucking fast.”
Another laugh, and his smile was lit by the glowing dash. His hand squeezed hers. “Don’t tempt me.”
“You going to tell me where—” Her own gasp cut her off, as Miah stomped the brakes hard enough to buck the entire truck. “Jesus! What—” Her unfinished question was answered as a figure lurched into view from the narrow shoulder. Goddamn.
“Alex,” she muttered, and unbuckled her belt. Miah already had his door open.
They rounded the truck and converged on their friend. Alex’s frame swayed, liquor slopping from the fifth in his hand onto the truck’s grille.
“You okay, buddy?” Miah asked, steadying him by the arms.
“Oh, heya, Church. Whatchoo doin’ out here?”
“Driving home. How about I give you a lift while I’m at it, Alex? How about that?”
“Oh, I’m fi—” He slipped, catching himself on Miah’s hood. “I’m good,” he announced, mustering a moment’s self-possession to stand up straight, arms raised. “I’m good. Thanks all the same.”
“You’re wasted,” Raina said, never one to call a turd a truffle. “Get in the back.”
Alex looked shocked to see her. “Oh, Raina. Hey.”
She slipped the bottle from his hand, emptying it onto the pavement when he turned his attention to Miah.
“I’m good, seriously. Nice of you t’offer, though.”
“Not an offer,” Miah said. “It’s an order. Come on, buddy.” He clapped Alex on the shoulder and led him around to the back and lowered the tailgate once more. Raina watched, revulsion curdling her insides. She felt all her shelved resentment toward her dad bubbling up, and shoved it back down, still unsure how to incorporate it into her grief. There was nothing she found more pathetic than a man who couldn’t hold his liquor. Which was one reason among several that reminded her she was probably in the wrong line of work.
“C’mon,” Miah said, and he
helped Alex roll into the bed of the truck, shutting the gate behind him. “Have you home in no time.”
As they buckled back in, Raina told him, “This shit’s getting bad. When did I kick him out of Benji’s? Two hours ago? Two hours, he’s been stumbling around town in the dark, nursing a fifth? Fucking pathetic.”
“Man’s an alcoholic,” Miah said.
“No shit.” She took a deep breath, let it go. Mustered a rare apology. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I know you’ve got hard feelings on account of your dad.”
“Too many fucking feelings,” she muttered, and glared out the window at the dark houses dotted here and there along the street.
Miah turned them onto a quiet road and soon into the driveway of the house Alex had called home ever since he’d moved to Fortuity to live with his grandfather. First as a ward, basically, and now as the elderly man’s caregiver. Miah’s headlights illuminated the beige Brush County cruiser, and there was a light on inside the house. Raina and Miah slammed their doors in the quiet night.
“He can’t—see me like this,” Alex said, words hitching as Miah propped him upright.
“Gimme your keys. I’ll go in first, make sure he’s already up in bed.”
Alex managed to find them in his jacket pocket. “I’m never drinking like this ever again,” he told the both of them.
“I’ve heard that one before,” Raina mumbled, and she and Miah helped Alex get his feet steadied on the gravel.
Miah gave his arm a clap. “Be right back.”
Alex looked to Raina as Miah jogged toward the house. “You’re out late.”
“Just got off.” And I was just about to get off, except the mood’s been thoroughly killed. Though she knew he’d never remember her saying it, Raina spoke her mind all the same. “I just don’t know what to do with you, man. You’re breaking my fucking heart.”
“Sorry?” Oh, that vacant stare.
“I want to care enough to bar you until you get your shit together, but I’m so fucking tired, Alex, I just don’t even fucking know.”
Alex laughed, the gesture so grating, coming from a drunk. “I just had a few too many tonight. It was a big fucking night, you know. Vince coming home.” He came close—too close, his breath a sour breeze. She held him at arm’s length.
“It kills me, having to cut you off,” she told him. “It kills me how Jekyll and Hyde you’ve gotten this past year. Fucking best guy in town when you’re on duty, then this goddamn bullshit after dark. I want to slap you someti—” She stopped as the screen door popped open and Miah returned.
“Your grandpa must be asleep upstairs,” Miah said to Alex. “No sign of anybody.”
“That’s good.”
“C’mon.” Miah gripped Alex’s upper arm. “Let’s get you inside. Find you a big-ass glass of water, how about that?” He glanced to Raina for help, but she shook her head and crossed her arms. She could feel tears welling up inside her, alongside rage. If she stayed in Alex’s company another second she’d flip her shit, and that wasn’t something she wanted Miah seeing, or indeed recalling herself the next morning.
“Right, then,” Miah said. “Let’s go.” And he led a staggering, mumbling Alex around the cruiser and up the front steps.
Raina hugged herself against the cold. It might be the height of summer, but the desert loved its extremes. She thought of getting back inside the cab, but the chill matched her mood, its discomfort feeding her irritation. When Raina got pissed, she liked to steep herself in it. Ferment in it. Too bad this anger was so raw and personal—she could’ve parlayed it into some rough sex and vented it that way . . .
But no. Not happening.
She and Miah weren’t in love or anything, but they’d loved each other as friends for so long, and respected each other, and were destined to keep crossing paths for a long time. If they were going to wind up in bed together, it ought to reflect all that. It ought to be special—and Raina wasn’t the kind of woman who normally thought about sex in such soft, reverent terms. But it shouldn’t be some simple satisfying of two bodies’ needs, nor some hot, sweaty, angry fuck because Raina was suddenly in a nasty mood. No, it deserved to be nicer than that. Not tender or gentle or anything, but baggage-free. Relaxed, even if frenzied. Just the two of them, and no distractions. Two people coming together, physically, to finally mirror all their shared memories. Two bodies in a warm bed. Nothing more.
Which, sadly, meant not tonight.
She waited for ages, until her back was stiff from the cold, her mood gone from fiery to embers to cold coals. Abandoning her indignation, she climbed inside the truck—in the driver’s seat this time, so she could start the engine and turn on the heater. All she felt now as she watched the front door was exhaustion, and a touch of admiration. Whatever Miah was doing in there with Alex was bound to be demanding patience and empathy, two qualities Raina wasn’t famous for.
A light came on in another room, then a shadow passed before the kitchen’s curtained window. The door cracked, spilling warm light around Miah’s silhouette. He shut it behind him and headed for the truck, his gait weary. Raina hopped out and circled around to the passenger side.
It wasn’t until he’d buckled in behind the wheel that she said, “Well?”
“Well what? He’s fucking wasted. I got him into bed and left a bucket beside it.”
“You must have been in there for twenty minutes or more.”
He shot her a look as he started the engine. “I’d prefer to preserve the last of his dignity.”
She shut her eyes and leaned into the headrest. Whether that meant there’d been sobbing or puking or who knew what else, she decided she’d rather not know. That was why she’d been too cowardly to go in, after all.
“Should I take you home?” he asked.
“Probably.” It was pushing three, and even if Miah got to sleep in, he was still probably expected back on a horse by nine or something. Not enough time to shed the angst of this new development and to ramp the chemistry back up to where it had been at the bar.
He drove them to Benji’s and parked around back. “Thanks for the near miss, I guess.”
She shot him a look as she unbuckled her belt. “Near miss?”
“Yeah. Maybe this just wasn’t meant to be. Us.”
She had to laugh, a little snort of a sound. “This isn’t over. It’s not like Alex getting plastered was some sign from above—it’s far from a radical development.”
“I didn’t know if tonight was just impulsive, maybe.”
“Even if it was, maybe tomorrow night will feel impulsive, too. Plus don’t knock impulse—it’s how most people wind up getting laid to begin with.”
He smiled, and it etched little lines at the edges of his eyes. He’d been handsome in high school, but he was straight-up sexy at thirty-two; the sort of man who aged like whiskey, only getting better.
“Come by some night soon,” she told him, and swung her door open. “We’ll find out where all this impulse was trying to take us.”
“Maybe I will.”
She got out, leaning her arm on the edge of the door. “Hope you do.” She should have ended it right there, headed for the back door with a little smile shot back at Miah to warm him up on his drive home. But something inside her tugged, insistent, and a rare snatch of sentimentality fell from her lips. “You’re a good man, Miah Church.”
He looked taken aback, or embarrassed. “You’d have done the same, if it had been you who’d found him by yourself.”
Probably, yes. But tonight, given the luxury of choosing between compassion and cowardice, she’d picked the latter. She shrugged. “Anyhow. See you sometime.”
He wrapped a hand around the wheel and held her gaze, nodded. “That you will.”
“Night.” She slammed the door, and headed for the bar’s back entrance. Miah waited, idling as she unlocked it. She couldn’t see his face as she turned to close the door—his headlights were too bright. Raising a hand, smiling,
she felt too vulnerable for her own comfort, and closed herself inside. She hummed a long sigh as she locked up, shut her eyes, and smiled. She listened until the sound of tires on gravel faded away, and only the tick of the building’s old radiators remained.
All her anger was gone, burned up, replaced with a different heat. Softer than what she’d felt while they’d kissed, yet the curiosity still glowed.
She’d keep it kindled, keep it stoked, until the next opportunity came to find out if this friendship was destined to turn into something unexpected.
Chapter Three
When the sun hit her blinds the next morning, Raina hauled her butt out of her nice warm covers and headed for the shower.
I should still be in bed, she thought, lathering her hair, and he should be there with me.
He should have said yes to her invitation, come upstairs, said to hell with his goddamn claustrophobia and they could’ve been getting up to no good right now, before the ranch called him back across town.
As she shaved her legs, she wondered how long Miah might stay away before turning up again, looking for a second chance. If he would.
Her mood cooled. He could change his mind, taken by some unfortunate, practical notion about how sex would be too risky, too dangerous, too much to take back once he inevitably realized what Raina already knew—that they’d never be more than friends and lovers.
He was a smart boy. He had to know as well as she did that they could never be anything serious. Not with Miah destined for partnership and parenthood, and Raina wanting little to do with the former, and nothing to do with the latter.
He wasn’t the type to pursue sex for its own sake—unlike her—and he could easily come to his senses by the bright light of day, and view last night as the near miss he’d named it. A near miss, and a close call.
But she prayed he wouldn’t. She prayed he wanted exactly what she did, regardless of the impermanence, and that maybe his attraction to her was a steady simmer, not one night’s impulsive boiling-over. Prayed he was making an exception of their chemistry, and was willing to pursue it for however long it could last. She’d always had questions nagging at her about her friend, nosy little voices wondering inappropriate things about the best-looking man in Fortuity. Now those voices were louder, and they were begging, those questions pushed beyond curiosity to something maddening. She needed to find out exactly what she’d been cheated of last night.
