Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders)

by Lorelei James

  “Is that why you left Sundance?”

  “Partially. I knew it’d be a while before I wasn’t the object of scorn. But there was other stuff goin’ on that pushed me that direction.” He slid his glass back and forth on the quilted placemat. “There was a lot of stuff that we never discussed, Addie.”

  “I know that now. At the time, I didn’t wanna sweat those small details. I thought we’d deal with them after the wedding. For about two months after you left, my mind kept going back to those months we were engaged. Trying to find warning signs I missed.”

  Dalton met her gaze. “What did you think you missed? Because I had every intention of marrying you that day. Up until the…” Moment I looked across the altar and really saw Rory.

  “Moment you realized you were about to say vows that were a lie,” she said softly.

  He nodded.

  “The signs were there. You had no interest in wedding planning—I chalked it up to being a guy thing. You hadn’t moved a single item from your trailer into my house. In fact, you never brought up the difficulties of living in town when all your family members live and work on the ranch.”

  His brothers hadn’t brought it up either, another reminder how out of touch they’d all been.

  “Why were we both eager to pledge ourselves to each other?” Addie shifted in her seat. “When I think back to our engagement? I didn’t know you at all.”

  “I had a moment of doubt at our rehearsal dinner when the minister started askin’ me that list of your favorites. I got one right, your favorite movie, only because we spent a lot of time watching TV.”

  “I was equally shocked when I got so many of your favorites wrong.”

  Dalton would never admit Addie had gotten most of his favorite things right, but because he’d sucked at naming her favorites, he’d lied just so she looked as clueless as him.

  You were some prize.

  “It’s not like we had any excuses not to know each other better. We dated for three months and were engaged for six.” She fiddled with the ruffled placement edging. “What I can’t figure out? Why did you propose to me in the first place?”

  “Because you said you loved me.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “And you were sincere. You were too good for me, Addie.” That had appealed to him. Marrying Addie might make him a better man. He’d known for months prior to their engagement things in his life needed to change. He believed Addie was the catalyst. And she had been—just not in the way either of them expected.

  “Is that why you suggested we wait until our wedding night to have sex?”

  Dalton blushed. “Most likely. Although I’d convinced myself that’s what you wanted. In hindsight, I attributed a lot of feelings and ideas to you that weren’t there.”

  “You got that right.” She leaned forward. “A little secret between you and me? I didn’t tell Truman that you and I never had sex. In fact…” She laughed. “Exactly the opposite. I told him you were an animal in bed and no man could ever compare.”

  Now his jaw nearly hit the table. “Addie! Why in the hell would you do that?”

  “What? You owed me that lie, given your reputation as a McKay stud that I didn’t get to experience.” She smirked. “Besides, Truman got it in his head that he needed to be a lover to me that’d make me forget all others and whoo-ee. It’s worked. I’m always walking around with a big ol’ smile on my face.” She shook her finger at him. “So don’t you ruin my sweet gig and offer some kind of confession to my husband tonight, got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “That said, I cursed your name for months after you left, Dalton McKay. But as time marched on, I realized you were right to call off the wedding. I wish you’d done it before the ceremony. Getting left at the altar ranks as one of the worst things that’s happened to me, yet it also led to the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” She smiled. “Truman.”

  “I’m glad that you’re so happy, Addie. I really am. Although, I gotta admit I never would’ve put you and Truman together.”

  “He’s no McKay bad boy, that’s for sure. Then again, neither were you when we were together.”

  “Was that why you agreed to date me? Because I was the last supposedly wild McKay?”

  “That was part of it. I wasn’t the type guys panted over. Not like Rory.”

  Like Dalton needed the reminder that guys had lusted after Rory. She’d been sort of sweetly clueless about it. Or hostile about it, depending on the day.

  “It was fun being the one who hooked the last McKay man. Might sound stupid, but people around here looked at me differently.”

  “Did they look at you differently after I bailed?”

  She shrugged. “Not with pity, if that’s what you mean. More like the, we all should’ve known he wouldn’t follow through with it kind of looks.”

  “I’m sorry. Jesus. I can’t seem to say that enough.”

  Addie patted his arm. “I’m over it. I won’t ever forget it, but the fact I’m fine with you in my kitchen talking about it says a lot.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So I feel entitled to ask you something.”

  His stomach tightened, but he said, “All right.”

  “What’s goin’ on between you and Rory?”

  Should he toss off a breezy, I’m trying to convince her that I’m a great guy, a changed guy and she oughta spend the rest of her life with me? Nah. Addie would see it as him being flip, and he wasn’t joking. “We’re spending time together.”

  “While you’re in town visiting your father? Or are you back for good?”

  “There are a few factors that’ll determine where I end up, so it’s a day by day thing.”

  “Well, as long as you don’t mind bein’ the rebound guy.”

  Dalton frowned.

  “You knew she was engaged, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Rory’s been hiding here since she broke it off with him. She won’t talk about what happened, but I suspect she was pretty broken up about it since she hasn’t dated at all.” Addie pushed up from the table and offered him a sad smile. “Until you. But face it, Dalton, she knows you’re not the settling-down type. Which is why this will be fun for both of you for the short term. Just don’t expect too much from her.”

  Addie was wrong about him. She was wrong about Rory, too. Wasn’t she?

  “I need to do a few things so why don’t you head into the living room. Truman will be home soon. I’m sure you’ve got things to say to him too.”

  Dalton stood. “I hope we can talk with our mouths instead of our fists this time.” He wandered through the room, looking at pictures and knickknacks. Wondering why he didn’t see a TV. He’d bent down to check out the sheet music on the piano when the front door opened.

  Truman stared at him for a second from the entryway before he removed his outerwear. Then he said, “McKay. Want a beer?”

  “Sure.”

  “Gotta check on my wife and then I’ll be back.” Emphasis on my wife. “The beer’s in the den. Room at the end of the hallway. Can’t miss it.”

  It was a guys’ room—no windows, no frilly curtains or throw pillows. Just a big-ass TV, and reclining furniture.

  Truman arrived and reached into the bar fridge, handing Dalton a can of Coors Light. “Have a seat.”

  It’d never been awkward between them. They’d been friends since sixth grade. Since Truman’s brother Thurman and Tell were best pals, they’d pulled pranks on their older brothers. They’d double dated. They’d gone to strip clubs and concerts and rodeos together. They’d gone fishing and hunting and talked about cars, girls, sex, guns and sex nonstop.

  And right now, Dalton couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. A younger version of him wouldn’t have been comfortable with the silence. He would’ve blurted out something inappropriate to break the ice. He sipped his beer and waited.

  “I heard about your dad. How’s he doin’?”

  “Casper is Cas
per.”

  “Thurman said that Tell wasn’t sure if you’d come back.”

  “About didn’t.”

  “How long you here for?”

  Dalton shrugged. “I’m at the wait-and-see point for a lot of things.” He took another drink. “Addie looks good. Congrats on…everything.”

  Truman sighed. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have beaten the crap outta you that day. But Jesus, Dalton. I had no idea what the fuck was wrong with you and why you’d do that to Addie. Just walk away from her. Seein’ her cry…I wanted to put the hurt on anyone who made her cry.”

  “You certainly put the hurt on me that day.”

  “Yeah, well. You deserved it. At the time. Now I can’t thank you enough for walking away. ’Cause Addie is it for me.”

  “Did you feel that way about her when me’n Addie were engaged?”

  “I was jealous as hell. I knew you didn’t appreciate what you had in her.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t deserve her. I think I knew that all along.”

  Truman smiled. “I ain’t gonna argue with you.”

  “So we good?”

  “Just as long as you ain’t here to try and get back whatcha lost.”

  I am, but Addie isn’t what I lost. “You have my word.”

  “Good. So tell me what you’ve been up to the last few years.”

  Dalton hit the high points and the low points, but he steered the conversation back to Truman. And he seemed eager to prove he could more than take care of Addie and they were blissfully happy.

  They’d just cracked open their second beer when the den door opened. Addie stood in the doorway, but Dalton barely spared her a glance. His focus was entirely on the blonde bombshell behind her.

  “Rory is here so if you guys wanna come into the kitchen, we can eat.”

  Truman hopped up. “I’ll help you set the table.”

  The instant Addie and Truman were out of view Dalton yanked Rory into the room, pressed her against the wall and kissed the holy hell out of her. His hand wrapped in the golden silk of her hair. His mouth on hers, owning hers. When he ended the kiss, Rory’s eyes were glazed with lust. Her mouth so full and ripe he had to kiss her again.

  This time she twisted her head away. “I’m happy to see you too, but will you please quit mauling me?”

  “Huh-uh. I knew you’d be pissy if I didn’t give you at least one of them bully-kisses when I first saw you. And for the rest of the night, I gotta act like this is casual between us.”

  Those green eyes blinked at him slowly. “It is casual.”

  “The fuck it is. And the fuck I’m your rebound guy from Dildo either.”

  “Rebound guy? That’s what Addie said you were?”

  “Yes.” He paused. “Am I?”

  Rory didn’t deny it. She suddenly became very interested in the carpet.

  His stomach roiled. “Rory?”

  Addie yelled, “Come and get it!” before Rory had a chance to respond.

  During dinner Dalton had fun reminiscing with Truman and hearing some of the things Addie and Rory had done over the years.

  They left after dessert—the separate cars thing sucked, but Rory didn’t balk when Dalton suggested he stop by her place for a little while.

  Her dog Jingle met him at the gate. “Hey there. Remember me?”

  Jingle sniffed and licked. Then her tail started to wag. “You’re a good guard dog.”

  “She thinks she’s a guard dog but she’s scared of squirrels.”

  “Well, we’ve all got fears.”

  “Even you?”

  Especially me, especially when it comes to you.

  Seemed more of a rhetorical question as Rory held the door open for him.

  Dalton stole a kiss as he brushed past her. He took a look around her place as he shed his outerwear. Such a contrast between Rory’s home and Addie’s. Nothing matched in Rory’s space. The furniture, the pictures hanging on the wall, even the objects decorating the room were colorful, funky and decidedly bohemian. He loved this place that was so perfectly Rory.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “I’d love it, but I gotta drive home, so I’ll pass.”

  “Sit down. Take a load off.”

  He waited to see where she sat and then parked himself right next to her.

  “So it seemed like you and Addie were all right,” Rory said.

  “I’m happy for her and Truman too. He apologized for beating me, but swore he’d do it again if I got it in my head to try and win Addie back.”

  “That’s just ridiculous. You’d never do that. And Addie is madly in love with Truman, so she wouldn’t throw him over for you anyway.” She sighed. “Guys. It’s three things with you. My dick is bigger than yours, I make more money than you and I can beat the fuck outta you.”

  “Pretty much.” He stretched his arm across the back of the couch so he could toy with her hair. “Add in I can outdrink you, outdrive you and whip your ass at cards and that’s the brain of a man.”

  “You forgot the ‘and I can fuck any woman I see’ too.”

  “Nope. That falls into fantasy territory for most guys.”

  “But not for you, or any of the McKays,” she retorted. “Alls you gotta do is crook your little finger and women drop to their knees in front of you.”

  Dalton tugged her closer by her hair. “Alls you gotta do is say the word, sugarplum, and I’ll be on my knees before you.”

  That shocked her.

  Good.

  She squirmed away. “So was it weird? Seeing Addie?”

  “I guess. But to be honest, when I saw her, I felt nothing except an almost giddy sense of relief.” Instead of meeting Rory’s eyes, he focused on a metal candleholder on the table across the room. “I walked into that house and thought, this would’ve been my life if I’d married her. Sensible couches, floral curtains, shelves of knickknacks. An ordered life.”

  “That’s not what you want?”

  “No. I would’ve suffocated. I’m relieved she found a man like Truman who thrives on it.”

  Rory’s fingers touched his jaw. “I’m glad you didn’t tell her that you dodged a bullet by not marrying her.”

  “I do have some tact,” he said testily. “A lot more than I used to have.”

  “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

  He locked his gaze to hers. “For instance, I’m imagining all the ways and all the places I want to put my mouth on you.”

  Heat flared in her eyes before she banked it. “What does that have to do with tact?”

  “I’m keeping the explicit details to myself. Isn’t that the definition of tact? Stating the truth in an inoffensive manner.”

  “Having tact means you shouldn’t have said that at all.”

  “That right?” He twined a hank of her hair around his finger and stared at her. “Guess I don’t have as much tact as I thought. Because I’d like nothin’ better than to strip off your jeans and spend an entire day with my face between your thighs. Maybe saying that makes me tacky, but I won’t lie or pretend that I haven’t been thinking about it nonstop.” He changed the subject. “How’s the special project goin’?”

  “Too early to tell only two days into it. I’m still setting up databases.”

  “Do you like that part of the job?”

  “It’s part of it whether or not I like it, so it’s easier to suck it up and just do it rather than complain. I knew what I’d signed on for when I went to work for a governmental entity. But if I’d known my freshman year in college what I know now? I would’ve chosen a different field of study.”

  “Why’d you choose Ag management?”

  “I had visions of saving the herds of wild horses. Creating sustainable wildlife habitats. Protecting species from extinction. But with the emphasis on Ag in my degree, I’m dealing with an entirely different area. I should’ve gone into wildlife biology with a minor in Ag management.” She sighed. “Getting a master’s degree was a no brainer when UWYO offered
to pay for it.”

  He continued to play with her hair. “From the time we were kids I always thought you’d be a crusader for a cause. But something more rebellious and outside the norm. Becoming a pirate to stop whaling and the clubbing of baby seals.”

  She smirked. “Like fighting against man’s need to conquer the animal kingdom by destroying habitats?”

  “Yep.”

  “You disappointed in my more practical choice of being a nine to five government lackey with health benefits and a dental plan?”

  “Not on your life, jungle girl.” Dalton leaned over and kissed her.

  Rory shifted to sit on his lap; her hands cradled his head as she took control of the kiss. Sweetly seductive, a little hungry, a little fierce, completely captivating.

  It took every bit of restraint to act passive when he had visions of kicking the coffee table over, pinning her to the carpet and fucking her until she came at least twice.

  Her lips skated across his cheek with butterfly kisses that caused the left side of his body to tingle. “Show me, with your hands,” she whispered huskily. “Where you want to put your mouth on me.”

  Dalton pushed her shoulders back so he could touch her. He followed her jawbone from below her ear to the tip of her chin, then down the long line of her neck to the start of her cleavage. The V-neck sweater, the same earthy tone as her eyes, hugged her curves but also emphasized the flat plane of her belly. His finger traced the edge of the sweater, from collarbone to collarbone, stopping to linger at the midpoint.

  Rory’s breath hitched when his hands closed over her tits.

  He bent his head and kissed the hollow of her throat. “In my version of playing show me, you’re nekkid.”

  “Poor baby. Work with what you’ve got.”

  “That I can do.” He slid his hands down. Palming her ribcage. He stroked the section of skin between her hipbones. The fact he was touching her over her clothes didn’t seem to matter; Rory became really squirmy.

  Instead of sliding his fingers between her thighs, he placed his hands on her lower back, letting his thumbs follow her spine up to her nape. “I’d spend a lot of time on this side. My lips learning every muscle and curve.” He drew a line from the outside of her wrists to the cups of her shoulders.