by Alison Kent
“We’re only here because of what we’ve been through. The choices we’ve made. Those had to happen to make this, you and me, now, worth something.”
She understood what he was saying, but it didn’t make the truth settle any easier. “I don’t know whether that makes me happy or sad.”
“Be happy, Darcy. Don’t ever, ever be sad.” And then he cupped the back of her head in one of his very large hands and brought her mouth to his, coaxing her lips to part and using his tongue to love her.
TWENTY-NINE
ARWEN WAS GOING over the month’s payables coming up on their net thirty date, when a knock sounded on her open door. Pencil in hand, she looked up from her desk in the saloon’s small office and waved Luck Summerlin inside.
Hesitating, Luck shook her head, gestured over her shoulder with one thumb. “Someone needs you outside. In the parking lot.”
Oh, yay. An interruption. Her favorite thing. “Does this someone have a name?”
“Well, yeah, but I was just asked to come get you.”
“You were asked to come get me by someone who doesn’t want me to know their name.” Arwen wasn’t stupid and this smelled so much like a trap she expected to see bear.
Luck rolled her eyes and motioned for Arwen to come. “I’m sworn to secrecy and I’m a terrible liar, so…”
“Fine,” she said, though she was never going to get any work done at this rate. She was having enough trouble keeping her head in the game and off Dax Campbell. His mouth and his hands and the look in his eyes when he’d called her on her plan to get him out of her system.
Why in the world had she told him that? He’d be pulling it out and using it against her for the rest of his time in town.
She headed down the hall, out the back door, and across the patio per Luck’s pointed instructions, kind of hoping this was a trap and not a delivery from some pain in the ass vendor screwing up her day. She’d skipped breakfast and was ready for lunch—not for aggravation.
The gate in the saloon’s back privacy fence stood open, and just outside she saw the front bumper of a big black truck. A truck that looked an awful lot like Dax’s. But it was the middle of the day, and while Dax might’ve shirked his duties a time or two after returning to Crow Hill, he was now a company man.
And yet, there he was, coming around the cab to meet her, his jeans pressed, his boots clean save for the dirt he’d kicked up in the parking lot, his blue plaid shirt looking sun-dried fresh. Even his battered straw hat appeared to have had some life slapped back into it, and it sat back, not forward, on his head.
Behind her, the gate closed and the lock clicked, but before she could turn and have Luck let her back in, Dax had taken hold of her hand.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as he dragged her behind him to the truck’s driver’s side door. “What’s going on?”
“I’m picking you up.”
“Why? It’s the middle of the day. I have work. You have work.”
“It’s lunchtime,” he said, winking down at her, his dimples flashing. “We’re going on a lunch date.”
“A lunch date? Are you kidding?”
“Nope,” he said, and when she made no move, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the truck. Then he climbed up behind her, forcing her into the center because a big box sat in the passenger seat.
“I’m pretty sure this is kidnapping,” she said as his hand found its way between her legs where she straddled the gear stick.
He shifted and put the truck in motion. “Only if you call Ned and report me.”
She wondered if, in true Dalton Gang fashion, he had Sheriff Orleans in his pocket by now. He certainly had a lawyer on his side. Or he did if he and his sister were speaking again.
She countered with her only ammunition. “If this is a date, then you owe me sex.”
“I’m well aware of that,” he said, draping his arm along the back of the seat after reaching fourth gear.
Hmm. No teasing her about working him out of her system. No double entendres. Nothing but his fingers tickling her shoulder and toying with the curled end of her ponytail. Nothing but his thigh against hers, moving as he accelerated or slowed. Nothing but the smell of… fried chicken?
She looked to her right, lifted a flap on the box. “You picked up lunch from the Blackbird?”
He gave a nod and another smile, his dimples like sickles in his cheeks. “Fried chicken, potato salad, corn on the cob, homemade rolls, and iced tea.”
Arwen’s stomach rumbled as she inhaled deeply. “God, I am starving.”
“Good, because there’s enough food for four, and we’re only two.”
She had to stop herself from digging in now, but if she was going to have to wait long… “Where are we going?”
“I thought I’d show you one of my favorite spots on the ranch.”
“Is this going to take more than the hour you and I as working people get for lunch?” A stupid question since the drive out and back would take that long. And why was he suddenly wanting to show her the ranch?
“I hope so. If you want sex for dessert, that is. Besides,” he told her, moving his arm from behind her to downshift for an upcoming turn, “we’re self-employed.”
“That just means our bosses are more demanding than most.”
“Ah, but they’re also more forgiving, more understanding, and downright flexible about things like lunch.”
After that, they rode for a while in silence, Arwen enjoying Dax’s nearness and nearly absentminded touch, the smells coming from the basket setting her stomach on edge. On top of the work her business required, she’d been so busy preparing to host the cook-off that food had become an afterthought.
She wondered if Dax had realized that, or if something else had prompted this spur of the moment date. “How’re things going? With your dad and your sister?”
He stiffened a bit, dropping the lock of her hair he’d been toying with and wrapping his hand around a hook of the rear window’s gun rack. “I haven’t seen Darcy so I don’t know how the old man is doing.”
“You haven’t called the hospital?”
“Didn’t we wear out this subject the other day?”
Not to her satisfaction. “Is it okay to ask if you’ve heard from your mom?”
“I haven’t. No idea if Darcy has.”
“Did you ever talk to Josh?”
“You keep this up, no picnic for you.”
Okay then. Easy stuff. “How’re Casper and Boone?”
“Good. Working. Pissing me off.” He hesitated then chuckled and added, “They enjoyed the show, by the way.”
“The show…” She waved her fingers at her cheeks that were burning. “Oh, my God! They did not see us. Tell me they did not see us.”
“They saw enough to stay in the barn until they heard you drive off.”
Groaning, she buried her face in her hands. “I’m never going to be able to look at either one of them again.”
“Sucks for you since they’ll be at your place all day for the cook-off.”
Ugh. “What are y’all cooking?”
“You’re the competition. You think I’m going to tell you?”
“It won’t be much of a competition if y’all got hold of Tess’s sauce and rub recipes,” she said, toying absently with the flap of the box.
“Tess had recipes?”
“Well, crap.”
He laughed, a loud, whooping sound that faded, and then he fell silent. She leaned against his side and watched the landscape roll by. As long as she kept the conversation off his family, things were okay. And why did she keep digging in that well anyway? She certainly didn’t want him asking anymore about Hoyt.
When he finally parked, she didn’t have to be coaxed out of the cab the way she’d had to be coaxed in. She jumped to the ground and stretched, lifting her arms high overhead and raising her face to the sun. It was hot, but clouds had popped up to tease with a chance of afternoon rain, and the temperatur
e had backed off for a break. It made sitting and eating on the truck’s lowered tailgate less of a challenge. And the iced tea went a long way to help.
“It’s so gorgeous out here,” Arwen said, too full to move a muscle.
Dax tossed a drumstick bone into the box and wiped the grease from his hands. “You should see this place when it’s green and the creek is running high. Pretty sure the cattle think it’s heaven.”
And she was pretty sure there was a Blue Bell Ice Cream commercial in there somewhere. “I would. If I were a cow.”
He laughed, his hands curled over the tailgate edge as he leaned forward. “Dave showed me this place. He was good about knowing when something was wrong, then getting me to talk about it when talking was the last thing I wanted to do.”
“Ah, so you’ve been the strong silent type all your life.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “I like to leave the talking to folks who have something to say.”
“You have plenty to say. Are you kidding me?”
“To you, maybe.” He waggled both brows. “And I don’t even need my mouth to say it.”
“I’m not talking about sex, but now that you mention it—”
“You changed your mind about dessert?”
“Only because of the time, and because I’m about to burst,” she said, puffing up her cheeks. “You can have this date as a freebie.”
“Can’t say that doesn’t leave me sorely disappointed. And sorely aching, thinking I’ll be having to take care of things myself.”
“Oh, stop it,” she said, slapping his shoulder. “You get more sex than most guys in relationships.”
“Guess it’s a good thing we’re not in one.” He gave her a sideways glance that for the life of her she couldn’t read.
It was as good a time as any… “What do you think you’ll be doing five years from now?”
“I guess that depends on what happens with the ranch, whether or not me and the boys can ride out this drought and not lose everything Tess and Dave spent their lives on.”
Not exactly what she was going for. “Say you do ride out the drought, and you come to this spot in five years and it’s emerald green with water in the creek flowing clear and cold.”
“Water in this creek is never going to be cold.”
Fine. She’d spit it out. “Do you want what Tess and Dave had? A love to last a lifetime?”
He shrugged, looked out across the bone-dry pasture. “Sometimes I do, other times I realize I’m an ass and it’s not going to happen. I’ll do something stupid, pull some stunt, and then you’ll realize I’m not worth all the time and effort you’re investing in straightening me out.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” But not only that… “And when did I say anything about being the love of your life?”
“You’re the closest I’m ever going to come,” he said, pulling his gaze from far away to her. “You’re the closest I’ve ever wanted to come.”
His admission had her swallowing hard, and for so many, many reasons. “What happened to dating for sex?”
“I was fine with that. At first.”
“But you’re not anymore?”
“I don’t know, Arwen. I like it when you’re here. I don’t like it when you’re not,” he said and he reached for her hand. “And that has nothing to do with sex.”
So where did they go from here, she wondered, singing the words in her head to a David Essex beat. “I should probably get back to work. And I imagine you need to, too.”
But he shook his head, pushing the picnic box into the truck bed behind them. “C’mere.”
“Dax—”
“No dessert. I got it. Just come over here.”
When she hesitated, he slid toward her, one arm going behind her, the other hand toying with the charm on the necklace she wore. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like sticking in one place. You may not want to hear it, seeing as how you only want me for the prize between my legs, but you’re the reason, and I wanted you to know. I thought this would be a good place to tell you that.”
She didn’t know whether to be flattered or scared out of her mind. She was here with Dax Campbell and he wanted her. Not just to fuck, but to be with, to enjoy. She couldn’t say her feelings hadn’t changed. She knew they had, but feelings got hurt, got in the way, turned good things into bad ones.
Turned loving fathers into heartless jerks.
Why did this have to be so hard? “Dax—”
“Let me finish. I don’t know if it’s the crap that’s been going on, and thinking about Dave Dalton being the father I should’ve had, but I know things have changed. At least for me. And I can’t promise to keep whatever we have to sex the way we agreed. I’m not asking you to marry me or anything wild like that, but I like you. I like you a lot. And I need to know you’re okay with that.”
With his liking her? What was she supposed to say? Yes? No? She didn’t know? “Can we just take things a day at a time? See what happens? I don’t want to make any promises—”
“Promises you can’t keep?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to say it’s too soon, but—”
“It’s too soon.”
“Or maybe just too much for now.”
“Right,” he said, biting off the word. “I’ll bare my soul later. When would be a good time? Can you maybe schedule that in?”
“Dax, don’t do this. Lunch has been wonderful. I love that you brought me out here. Let’s not start something we don’t have time to finish.”
“Got it. No talk that’s not about sex,” he said and moved to jump down from the truck.
Panicked, she grabbed his arm before he could. “I’m okay with it.”
“What?”
“I’m okay with things changing. But I’m also scared.” She dropped her head back, looked at the sky and laughed. “God, am I scared. A sexual relationship I can deal with. But I saw what my father’s obsession with my mother did to him. He was nothing without her. Half the time he didn’t remember that I existed.”
“Arwen?”
She closed her eyes, took a breath, opened them, and looked over.
“I’m never going to forget about you.” And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t a kiss about sex. It was him telling her not to be scared, not to worry, that he would, as he’d said, never forget. But it didn’t say he wouldn’t leave, that he wouldn’t change his mind and walk out on Boone and Casper. That he wouldn’t walk out on her and go back to Montana or someplace else.
And she tried to kiss him back, but her heart wasn’t in it, and he knew and he let her go, packing up what food they hadn’t eaten, pouring the leftover tea on the ground. She watched the dirt lap up the moisture, wondered if it was enough to green a single blade of grass, thinking of the water she’d wasted on her yard at home when Dax had so little and needed so much.
They drove back to the saloon in silence, and with the picnic box in the bed of the truck, she sat in the passenger seat, not next to him, and she opened her own door when they arrived, and before she closed it, she asked him, “I’ll see you later?”
He nodded.
“Oh, and if you want to talk to her, I saw Darcy’s car parked at the feed store. Josh lives in an apartment upstairs. I imagine she’s staying there with him.”
“Thanks,” he said. And then he drove away, and she stood there and watched him go.
THIRTY
DAX LEANED AGAINST the grille of his truck, hat pulled low, one ankle crossed over the other, hands stuffed carelessly in the pockets of his jeans. He’d left the ranch before the boys had made it out of bed and to breakfast, and headed to Lasko’s alone. He was hoping with Arwen seeing Darcy’s car at the feed store, he might catch his sister—or at least catch Josh—before he had to get to work.
But the sun had already broken the horizon, meaning he was late for the start of the day. This ridiculous Campbell family drama was taking up time he couldn’t spare. He had a list of
chores a mile long and Boone and Casper counting on him to shoulder his share of the workload. Theirs was a delicate balance, and he’d already done his time tipping the scale. If Josh or Darcy didn’t show in the next five—
And there she was, walking down the ramp of the loading dock, digging in her purse for her sunglasses and keys, wearing boots and jeans and a ponytail and looking nothing like the attorney he’d seen that first morning, spruced up in the suit and heels of her trade. He pushed off the truck and started for her car, not yet sure how he was going to approach the subject of Greg.
She saw him coming her way and slowed her steps, her sunglasses hiding her eyes, but he didn’t need to see them to tell she wasn’t particularly glad to find him waiting. That much he could get from the set of her mouth, her hesitation, the flip of her bangs from her forehead. But then she picked up the pace as if deciding, in true attorney fashion, to get this meeting over with.
“I’ve been needing to talk to you,” she said before he could get a word out.
First strike. Good for her. “About what?”
“Nora Stokes wants to look at some of the Daltons’ furniture.”
“Thought we had an agreement,” he said, his jaw tight.
“I didn’t sell it to her, Dax. Lighten up.”
“But you talked to her about it?”
“We talked, yes. I ate lunch at the diner yesterday. She was there and asked me what y’all were doing with things. Specifically, the sideboard in the kitchen. She tried to get Tess to sell it to her years ago. That, and the highboy in the bedroom I was using.”
“I told you. I’ll have to talk to the boys about getting rid of anything.”
“Do it, because I imagine a few thousand dollars might come in handy.”
“Thousand, did you say?” He was never touching the sideboard again.
“Yes, thousand. Several of them.”
That kind of cash would come in more than handy, but still. Selling Tess and Dave’s things… “I’ll talk to the boys.”
“Regular little family the three of you’ve got there.”
He shrugged. He wasn’t here to argue with Darcy about the past. “You’re my family first. You.”
