Scoundrel

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Scoundrel Page 3

by Rebecca Goings


  All men could jump off a cliff for all she cared.

  Lissa hugged their father and kissed him on the cheek. “How have you been feeling lately?”

  “Good, good,” he said, rubbing his chin. Shirley knew he was fibbing, but she didn’t contradict his words. He most likely didn’t want her sister to worry in her condition.

  Lissa’s gaze turned to her. She gave her a nervous smile. “Shirley, is everything all right with you?”

  The words were light, but Shirley heard her worried undertone. “Yes,” she lied. Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. Luke chose that moment to walk into the parlor.

  He looked good. Too good. His denims and blue button-down shirt were clean and pressed, and his hair was brushed back. He appeared as if he’d freshly shaved and his guns were nowhere in sight. He hadn’t even worn his spurs. His quiet footsteps unnerved her.

  When his eyes roamed over her, Shirley began shaking. But other than a quick nod, he didn’t give away any clue about their heated kiss the other day.

  “Luke, I’d like you to meet my father, Chuck Bloom,” Lissa said, standing between the two men. “Father, this is Luke Austin, an old friend of Marcus’s.”

  Luke held out his hand and Chuck took it with a firm shake. “How do you do, sir?” he said.

  “Well, now,” Chuck replied with a grin. “Any friend of Marcus is a friend of mine.”

  Luke smiled and Shirley swore the room brightened. She’d never seen him give a genuine grin—all the smiles he’d given her had been predatory. Dangerous. Right now, he seemed…safe.

  “I’m sure you remember Shirley,” Marcus said, grinning from ear to ear. “She’s told us you two have already met.”

  Luke held out his hand to her as well. Shirley simply stared at it.

  “Of course. How could I forget Lissa’s lovely sister?”

  The warmth of his words had her hanging her head in shame. She knew she wasn’t lovely at the moment. But she couldn’t bring herself to be rude to Luke in her sister’s house. She could find it within herself to be civil.

  She took his hand and nodded back to him. “Mr. Austin.”

  “Please, ma’am, call me Luke.”

  The contact of his palm against hers struck her like lightning. Shirley snatched her hand away and rubbed it with her other one.

  “No, no, I couldn’t possibly.”

  “I insist.” Luke arched his brow. Shirley had half a mind to smack that smug look right off his face.

  “Fine.” With a deep breath, Shirley walked past him and into the kitchen. “What are you cooking, Lissa?” she tossed over her shoulder. “It smells wonderful.”

  Her sister followed, leaving the men behind. Helping her sister with the meal was much safer than standing in Lissa’s parlor, bantering with Luke in front of everyone. Her mind screamed that she was a coward, but she drained the potatoes and began mashing them regardless.

  “Are you all right?” Lissa asked, pulling her fresh-baked rolls from the oven. “I heard some gossip today that you had a spat with Christopher.”

  Shirley dropped the masher, making it clatter against the bowl. The sound echoed across the kitchen and Lissa jumped.

  “I’m sorry,” Shirley mumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I’m sure everything will work out in the end,” Lissa told her. “He seems quite taken with you.”

  Shirley let out an unladylike snort. “He isn’t.”

  “What?”

  With a long, drawn-out sigh, she began mashing once more. “He told me today that we…that we don’t suit.”

  “Oh. Oh, Shirley, I’m so sorry. I know how long you were waiting for him to propose.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she answered.

  “Yes, it does!” Lissa put her hand on Shirley’s shoulder. “You can’t just stop having feelings for someone.”

  “Christopher never saw me as anything more than a pretty face,” she said bitterly. “In fact, that’s all any man sees. They stopped flocking to me when I began pulling my weight at the shop. The only time I get any attention is when I’m dressed in my Sunday best. Even Mr. Austin heard that I was a…”

  “What?” Lissa asked when Shirley trailed off.

  “Smells mighty nice in here, ladies,” Luke said, walking into the kitchen with Marcus and Chuck behind him.

  “The roast’s done, Marcus,” Lissa said. “Would you carve it for me?”

  “Of course.”

  As Lissa’s husband moved to grab the carving knife, Shirley caught Luke’s eye. He gave her an odd look, as if seeing her for the first time. While her brother-in-law carved the meat and her father was distracted by the apple pie cooling on Lissa’s window sill, Luke leaned back against the wall and put his hands in his pockets, still holding onto her eyes with his.

  But his audacity hadn’t left him. He winked at her.

  Shirley bit her lip to keep from smiling. They had a secret between them, and Heaven help her, it was thrilling, in a way.

  She looked away and moved to help her sister bring the food to the table. Thankfully, her seat was across from Luke, and the next hour was filled with stories from the past.

  Marcus had arrested Luke after a particularly nasty barroom brawl. Luke even had a scar over his eyebrow to prove it. He’d started it, of course, after hearing another man speak freely about the woman he’d once fancied.

  As Luke told the story, Shirley hung on his every word, amazed that he would go to such great lengths to defend this woman’s honor when he’d propositioned her on Main Street for being a harlot herself not too long ago.

  “And where is this woman now, Mr. Austin?” she asked, taking a sip of water.

  He glanced at her over the table and shrugged. “Don’t know. Got tired of her nagging. Mounted my horse in the middle of the night and never once looked back.”

  Shirley stared at him in horror. “You just…left her?”

  “I wasn’t gonna spend the rest of my life with her, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

  “Yes, but the proper thing to do would have been to explain yourself.”

  “I don’t give much clout to being proper, ma’am.” His eyes bored into hers. She was suddenly reminded of their previous conversation about propriety.

  She sniffed and raised her chin at him. “Well, that just goes to show you are a cad.”

  Lissa’s eyes bulged while Marcus coughed into his napkin. Chuck’s face reddened. Even Luke’s mouth curled into a small grin.

  “Apologize at once,” her father demanded. “You are in no position to judge this man.”

  “I will not!” she exclaimed. “He broke a woman’s heart and left her high and dry!”

  “Shirley, I raised you better than to insult a guest in your sister’s house.”

  “I’m sorry, Lissa,” she said, barely able to hold back her tears. “But I must leave.”

  With a loud scrape, she pushed back her chair and dashed out the kitchen. Her father yelled after her, but Lissa began explaining what had happened with Christopher in her soft voice. Shirley couldn’t take another moment of their scrutiny.

  Opening the door, she slammed it behind her and raced down the steps of the porch. She’d only taken a few good strides before a strong hand grabbed her arm. She stumbled with a cry, right into Luke’s arms.

  “Let me go!” she cried. She tried twisting this way and that, but the man was just too strong.

  “No.” That one word seemed to hang in the air. He dragged her to a nearby tree and shoved her against it.

  “I’ll scream!”

  “Do it,” he challenged.

  Shirley stared into his stormy eyes while her chest heaved with harsh breaths. The moon was out, bathing his face in soft light. His masculine beauty struck a chord in her. She couldn’t scream even if she wanted to.

  “That woman I left behind,” he told her with a scowl, “she was married. The moment I found out, I left her. I was pissed she used me to get what she cou
ldn’t get at home. She had young children. It wasn’t right. But I figured that wasn’t the type of story you tell ‘round the dinner table.”

  Shirley closed her eyes and groaned. Her sorrow poured off of her and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. On top of misjudging Christopher and his intentions, she’d also misjudged Luke’s. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just assumed—”

  “I know,” he said, his tone softer. “That’s why I ran after you.”

  She opened her eyes and took him in. He was close. So close she smelled the soap he’d used to shave. It was all she could do not to take a deep breath.

  “You still think I’m a cad?”

  “Yes!”

  He smiled at her exuberant response.

  “I think all men are cads. Even the ones who are…” She stood up straight. “Safe.”

  He arched a brow. “Your suitor propose?”

  She gave him a short, sharp bark of laughter. “Hardly! He said we don’t suit.”

  “I already knew you didn’t.”

  Shirley narrowed her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she retorted. “You’re just like all the rest.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, stepping closer.

  “You take one look at me and decide you know me. You’re drawn in by my face, but you don’t dig any deeper. You think I’m spoiled, rude, and pretentious, and that I’m some kind of conquest. I-I’m not a prize to be won. Do not treat me as such.”

  His look darkened. “And you think you’re such a saint?” he asked. “You think I’m overbearing, uncouth and arrogant. You think I look at you and all I see is your beauty. I couldn’t care less about your looks, woman. I care about what’s in here.” He tapped her chest so hard she winced. “Most women I meet are demure, shallow creatures who barely meet my eye. You’ve challenged me from that first day on the street. Hell, my cheek still stings!”

  Though her vision blurred through unshed tears, she managed a giggle at his words. The harsh lines of his body softened as he stepped right up to hers, pressing her back against the tree. Shirley’s heart suddenly stopped.

  “If Christopher’s outta your life, then that makes this easy.”

  “Makes wha—”

  He swallowed her words with his mouth.

  Shirley squealed and attempted to push on his shoulders, but he took her arms and wrapped them around his neck. She shouldn’t have complied so easily, but it felt so good, holding on to him and kissing him right back.

  “He ever kiss you like this?” Luke asked suddenly, giving her tiny pecks on the lips.

  “No,” she answered breathless. “He never kissed me at all.”

  Luke growled. The sound of it made her nipples rub painfully against her corset. “Open your mouth, filly. Let me kiss you wild. You need to lose a little control.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “That’s right. Don’t think,” he said, interrupting her. “Give me your mouth.”

  She released a small sound of protest, but did as he said. The moment she opened for him, his lips returned and his tongue plunged deep. Without thought, her fingers slid into his hair and held on tight as his mouth raged on hers. In and out he thrust, licking, caressing, prompting her to do the same to him. She sucked in her breath at the groan he gave her once she began to respond. His lips became more demanding, opening her wider to take his passion. He pulled away only to angle his head in another direction and kiss her once more.

  Shirley fisted her hands, fighting desperately to keep up with him. He tasted so good she couldn’t get enough. The flavor of his mouth had been sweetened by her sister’s apple pie. Awareness shot through every inch of her body and she fought the need to rub against him.

  Luke tore his mouth from hers, but didn’t step away. His eyes held her captive and she was acutely aware that her hands were still locked in his hair. But she did not remove them.

  “Next time I kiss you,” he whispered, “I’m gonna take your nipple into my mouth and suckle you like a babe.”

  “Wh-what?” Her mind reeled. He hadn’t just said…

  “Your pussy wet?”

  Shirley lost her breath. Luke’s use of improper language made her blush until her ears burned.

  “You make my cock so hard, all I can think about is sinkin’ into your hot, wet pussy.”

  “Lucas!” she squealed.

  “You are not a conquest to me, filly. I want you to know that.”

  “My name is Shirley.”

  “I know. Don’t like it.”

  “That’s…that’s too bad.”

  He chuckled. “Might take you more seriously if you weren’t so breathless.”

  “You did this to me!” Once Shirley got a glimpse of his predatory grin, she inwardly groaned at what she’d just said.

  “I know. You’re one passionate filly, and one of these days, I’m gonna brand you.”

  “It was just a kiss, Mr. Austin. I most certainly will never belong to you.”

  “That right there,” he said, “that’s your propriety talkin’. But you and I both know you want to be wild. You want to know what it’s like to make love under the stars. You want a ruthless lover.”

  “I do not!”

  He lowered his head so that his lips barely touched hers. “You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”

  Before she could respond, he kissed her once more, but softer, gentler. Without warning, he was gone, and the chill of the evening air hit her.

  “Good night, filly.”

  Luke’s voice disappeared into the darkness as he climbed the steps to her sister’s porch. Shirley was left alone in the yard with an aching, unfamiliar need spiraling through her and another soaking pair of drawers.

  ~ * ~

  Luke shut the door quietly behind him and leaned his head against the wood. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself before walking back into the dining room to rejoin the others.

  He hadn’t expected Shirley to respond so enthusiastically to his kisses. He’d expected some resistance, some effort on her part to pull away. But she hadn’t. Swallowing hard, he concentrated on staying right where he was. If he gave in to his raging lusts, he’d march right back out there and take her under the stars.

  He’d meant to fluster her by talking dirty and getting her mind off the rejection Christopher had handed her. His plan had worked, but now, all Luke could think about was tasting her nipple and feeling it harden against his tongue. His fury at her suitor for making her cry was overshadowed by his need to lick her—wherever he liked.

  Besides, he couldn’t stay angry at a man who’d delivered her into his hands. Now that Luke knew no one else was in the way, he planned to get under Shirley’s skin until she surrendered to him.

  He didn’t know what it was that drew him to her, but his heart burned and his cock ached to claim her. That filly was about to get broke.

  Five

  For the next few days, Shirley couldn’t think of much beyond Luke and his decadent kisses. Every time the bell on the door rang throughout her father’s shop, her heart leapt, but he hadn’t returned to see her. She tried to tell herself it was for the better, but his lurid promise to her that dark night wouldn’t leave her alone.

  He said he’d suckle her nipple the next time he kissed her. He’d spoken of her…pussy. And his cock. Good Lord, how his bawdy talk affected her, even now. She wasn’t safe anywhere, not even in her dreams. Despite Christopher’s rejection, she’d barely spared him a thought. Luke was all she could think about, and it angered her to no end.

  While her father read the daily newspaper at the counter, Shirley slipped out the back door and wandered to the water pump. She grabbed the empty water bucket, held it to the pump, and began to vigorously pull and push the handle. Within a few seconds, water sloshed into the bucket. Once it was full, she slowly waddled her way to the front of the shop, determined to fill the water trough for the passing horses.

  Filling th
e trough used to be Lissa’s responsibility before Marcus told her to make her sister do it, and ever since then, Shirley had filled the trough. With a heave, she poured the water in, grimacing at a few droplets of water that dampened her calico dress.

  Her hands, which had once been so soft and lovely, now were worn and dry from the work she had to do to help her father. She’d once dreamt of a handsome well-to-do man to sweep her off her feet, but now, she couldn’t even manage to get a proposal from the preacher’s son.

  If she didn’t have her looks, she didn’t have anything.

  “Why hello, Shirley! How are you this morning?” Dr. Newcomb’s voice filled the air behind her. He’d once been Lissa’s only suitor, but he was older than their own father. Thankfully, Marcus had come to his senses and claimed her sister as his own.

  Shirley spun on her heel and smiled at him. “I’m fine, sir, just fine.”

  “Looks as if you’ve gotten a bit of sun lately.”

  Shirley held her palms to her heated cheeks. “My…parasol is broken,” she lied. “I haven’t the time to fix it.”

  The good doctor nodded, accepting her excuse, and probably seeing right through her. Truth was, she couldn’t very well get chores done while holding the contraption. She’d given up all together and allowed the sun to color her skin. She looked away.

  “How is your sister? Her pregnancy seems to be progressing very well.”

  “Yes, she is just fine. Has a lot of energy for being with child. It agrees with her.”

  Dr. Newcomb nodded again, and looked across the street. “One of my nephews is in town, if you’d like me to introduce you. I heard what happened with Christopher. I’m so sorry, child. It is truly his loss.”

  Shirley bit her lip in humiliation. She was sure those ladies from church had gossiped about their row all across the Gulch.

  “I…don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, staring at the dirt. “Beg your pardon, Dr. Newcomb, but I’ve had my fill of men for the time being.”

  “I understand completely,” he replied. “Does your father need some more of my balms?”

  “I think he might.”

 

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