Dirty Country Love: A Step-Brother Romance Novella

by Quinn, Candy

  “Didn’t tell me much of anything,” she agreed, her face turned to look up at him. Even sat down he had at least a half foot on her.

  “Well, I hoped to find a gal,” he said thoughtfully, peering off over the water and into the forest. “Find some excitin’ times, good stories, return home someday with a good woman on my arm, and settle back down on my terms,” he explained.

  That took her by surprise, the idea that he’d want to come back home eventually. She figured he couldn’t wait to leave and stay gone.

  Her hair wound around her finger as she watched him.

  “Did you find what you wanted?”

  He chuckled, but only a little.

  “Nah, not exactly,” he said, shaking his head. “I found women there, sure. But none of ‘em were worth holdin’ onto. Good stories? Not really. But as for excitin’ times? Oh yeah, plenty of those,” he remarked with a wry smile. “Plenty of excitement. Like I never dreamed of, or had nightmares of before.”

  Resting her chin on her knee, she stared at him.

  “Like what?” She hadn’t done much of anythin’, not really, since he left. It was just the plain Jane routine that she liked, but it didn’t lend much to any decent stories.

  Damien looked aside at her, seeming to ponder what he should say. If anything.

  “Lots of violence in the big city. Lots of fightin’. As many guns as out here, but people are packed tighter, and more willin’ to use ‘em,” he said, less a story and more of an explanation. “And if you go there without any cash on you, you’re in for a rough time fightin’ your way up. Ain’t the stuff of good stories, like I said.”

  A chill of fright went through her, but she’d heard as much. It was always on the news, this or that happening. People fighting, getting into trouble and usin’ drugs to numb themselves to the pain of it all. She felt bad that he’d suffered through that by himself, but that was his own choice.

  “You plannin’ on goin’ back then?”

  He ran a hand back through his glossy black hair, combing it with his fingers as he puffed up his chest with a deep inhale.

  “I sure as hell weren’t plannin’ on stayin’ out here with no gal, and all on my lonesome. That ain’t no fuckin’ life for a man, with or without a farm,” he said, letting his breath out slowly. “Loneliness is enough to make a man lose all control. Become a beast.”

  She frowned. Even though she knew he didn’t want to stay, it still hurt her to hear it. He was all she had left of family, of someone who really knew her inside and out.

  “That’s a shame,” she said with a little sigh of frustration, not like she expected anythin’ different.

  They rested a while, basking in the sun. Until, at last, Damien rose up, his skin toasted. Now dry, he pulled on his clothes and tugged his jeans back into place.

  “I’ll take ya on to the farm now. Unless there’s somewhere else you want me to take you,” he said, looking to her curiously. “I plan to stay out at pa’s farm a few days more, at least. No rush to get back.”

  She didn’t want to leave him. Not so soon, not when they were gettin’ on so much better than they ever had before.

  And maybe it was part selfish. Maybe it was spurred on by the fact that she liked seein’ him, that she was really growin’ fond of their talks and of the way he treated her.

  “I suppose I don’t gotta rush back right away. The owners said to take as much time as I needed. They weren’t close to Mr. Drake but they knew what he meant to me.”

  His strong-jawed face formed a bright smile, and he reached out, taking her hand and tugged her to her feet.

  “Sounds good. Hard worker like you are, I bet you need a break anyhow,” he said, leadin’ her onto his motorcycle once more for the ride back.

  But all the way back, the roar of the bike vibrating through her couldn’t quiet the voice in her head that said she should go back to work. That the way she was starting to feel wasn’t right.

  So why did it feel like truly comin’ home?

  Chapter 6

  Britney was struggling to get down a box of veggies from one of the upper shelves in the pantry for supper, but seein’ as the Drake family were all tall as giants, and she was short as a sprout, it was a real nuisance. She grunted and stretched up on her tippy toes, and then slipped…

  The heavy box shifted and slid, toppling down towards her.

  Comin’ in from outside, Damien arrived just in time to see and rush to help. The towering man dropped the vegetables he carried and stopped the box just before it fell entirely atop her.

  “Shit, Brit!” he said in shock, placing the box back where it came from. “You okay?”

  She barely had time to realize what was happening before he stopped it, and she stared at him in stunned silence. It was almost like the wind was knocked from her lungs, but after a couple seconds she shook her head free of the mental fog.

  “Just lost my footing,” she explained, embarrassed.

  Damien bent down and instead of helpin’ her up, just outright picked her up and put her back down on the chair at the table.

  “Fuck,” he said, cussin’ like his pa never would, “guess that pantry’s kind of a nuisance for a lady as delicate as you.” He said it partially teasing, but the wry grin on his face showed he meant it playfully.

  “Not my fault you’re all giants,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. She brushed some stray hair from her face, still trying to catch her thoughts. “I don’t know what happened. Was just reachin’ up to grab it and somehow I was fallin’ but I must’ve nudged it over the edge at the same time.”

  “Must’ve been somethin’ spilled on the floor, makin’ it slippery,” he remarked, looking back into the pantry before he shut it up. “I’ll see about fixin’ it for ya. But in the meantime, no need for those… some fresh stuff, straight from the farm,” he said, picking back up the bundles of carrots and potatoes he was carrying with him.

  Her eyes lit up. There were few things she enjoyed more than fresh vegetables, and she walked over to them eagerly.

  “There look real great,” she said with a broadening smile, her bruised ego fading into a memory already. “I haven’t had real food like this since Christmas.”

  He grinned and chuckled, givin’ her a light pat on the shoulder and a squeeze before he turned away.

  “I’ll go wash up and lend a hand,” he said. And true to his word, he was back in no time.

  He wasn’t all dressed up or nothin’, but when he did come back it was with a button up short sleeved shirt, and his hair brushed back. He looked to be tryin’ at makin’ himself presentable, and he got up right beside her, elbow to elbow, helpin’ himself to peelin’ some potatoes.

  She smiled at him, her heart pounding in her chest over such a simple task.

  Over supper they were laughin’ and smilin’, like no time had passed at all, but a whole lot. She felt closer than ever to the big, enigmatic man.

  As he pushed away his plate, scraped clean of every last trace of food, he smiled across the table at her.

  “So you get a lotta troublesome customers over at the diner, or what? I bet there’s some real nuisances,” he said with a half-grin.

  “Nothin’ I can’t handle,” she said with a tinge of pride. “Most folks know where the line is, and if they don’t, they’re shown the door. Only once was there ever a real problem and that was only ‘cause some outta-towner started a fight in the parkin’ lot.”

  Damien laughed and rolled his eyes as he rested back in his chair, letting it tilt.

  “Always some jackass out to make up for his shortcomings,” he remarked all too knowingly. “Hope he never caused you no distress at least,” he added, sounding genuine. “I know it must be rough for women folk workin’ around big brutes like that, who don’t know how to keep it in check.”

  “We were all inside, thankfully. Jack, the chef there, he broke it up. Gave us somethin’ to talk about for a couple days at least,” she said with a wry little grin.
“Not often somethin’ like that happens, not here.”

  “That’s good,” he said, smiling warmly. “I know that even if you didn’t head off to the big city, must’ve been a real change to go from the farm to workin’ in town. Would hate to think of ya stressin’ needlessly. Because sweet, talented, hard workin’ and lovely as you are, it’s a real shame you don’t have a man around to wipe away yer fears and anxieties.”

  “Yea, it was a change. Mostly, I mean, havin’ to be on my own. Gets quiet at night, you know? Even in the town with the cars and lights. Sometimes feels even more lonesome, since you’re surrounded by all these people that you don’t really know.” She licked her lower lip, shrugging a bit, “I mean, it’s nothin’ like the city and what you must’a felt though.”

  Damien got a little darkly quiet there for a moment, and she worried that he’d clam up and talk no more. But instead he nodded slowly after a time and spoke up.

  “Yeah. The city never shut up. People everywhere. Everythin’ over packed. But y’know?” he laughed dryly. “You learn a lesson there, that you can feel more alone in the middle of the crowd than you can in the middle of the prairie. It’s an alienatin’ feeling,” he said poignantly.

  “It’s weird, isn’t it? I mean, how hard it is to just feel a connection with someone.” She didn’t know how to add on that she felt a connection with him.

  “Pretty damn hard,” he said, taking a deep breath, before he got up and helped her take the dishes into the kitchen.

  Chapter 7

  The next day she woke up and found he was already up and out. She saw him walkin’ across the field towards the workshop that old Mr. Drake used mainly in the winter.

  She set about her usual business, and got to work on preparin’ something of a breakfast for the two of them.

  When the meal was done, there was still no sight of him. So she went to the door, called out. Still nothin’.

  “Where’s he off to?” she muttered to herself, and went back into the kitchen.

  Making her way to the pantry again to fetch some sugar for their mornin’ coffee, she found herself accosted. A pair of arms shot out from the door to the dining room, one covered her eyes, the other wrapped about her waist.

  “Got a surprise for ya,” came Damien’s gravelly voice, right in her ear.

  She squeaked, but part of her knew it was him and not some random burglar. Though with his strong arms around her, it took her a second longer to register what he’d said.

  “A surprise?” she whispered, truly shocked he’d ever think to do something for her. When they lived together he would barely make her a birthday card, let alone go out of his way to surprise her.

  “What is it?” she asked, excitement rising within her chest.

  He chuckled in good nature, his broad chest heaving against her back, reminding her of the hard, powerful physique that he possessed.

  “Nothin’ big,” he said leading her forward, eyes still covered. “But I didn’t want a repeat of yesterday,” he explained, pulling open a door before unveiling her sight and letting her peer into the open pantry.

  There, upon the floor of the pantry, she saw a well-polished, newly crafted foot-ladder. The air even smelled of the woodwork, which must’ve been what drew him out of bed so early.

  All to craft somethin’ she’d only need for a few days.

  “Damien,” she murmured, her hand fluttering to her chest. She couldn’t believe he’d put himself out to do something like that for her, and she spun around, throwing her arms about his neck. “Thank you!”

  Her excitement came as a surprise to him, judging by his wide eyes. But he smiled and wrapped his arms about her in return, hugging her tightly as he grinned. The quiet between them dragging a while as his gaze trailed down along her lips.

  He snapped his gaze back up to hers and gave her another tight squeeze.

  “Pa should’ve done it ages ago anyhow, but I bet he never even noticed. You’re not the complainin’ sort, are ya?” he remarked wryly.

  She shook her head. He was so warm, his hard body pressed to hers, making her have to go up on her tip-toes just to hug him. The step-stool would come in handy for that, too, she mused. She felt like she should pull away, that she’d lingered too long, but it was only reluctantly that she withdrew her arms from ‘round his neck.

  Then reluctantly again that he pulled his thick limbs from low around her waist.

  “Now… what’s for breakfast,” he asked with an impish smile.

  Chapter 8

  It wasn’t the last time Damien surprised her with a little gift. Later that day, he came in with some fresh picked berries to make into jam.

  “Found ‘em down by the river,” he explained with a smile.

  Though the next day she awoke to find some fresh wildflowers on the table, waiting for her. Along with a note that read:

  Gone to town to pick up a few things and finish some work. Be back for supper.

  Then finished it off with a lil’ heart.

  She stared at it far longer than she oughta. She didn’t know what to make of it, what to make of him. He came into her life again lookin’ every bit the bad boy he used to be, but inside, he had a heart of gold. He genuinely seemed to care about her, and want to make her happy.

  She brought the flowers out with her to the kitchen, putting them to the side and glancing overlong at the note every so often.

  Of course she’d noticed the little changes in behaviour. The way he lingered nearer to her, the way he held her tight. And she hadn’t forgotten when she’d spied him nude, and his devious smile.

  But surely there wasn’t anything inappropriate, not between them.

  So then why did she feel the way she did? Why was she hummin’ a silly song, excited for his return?

  Why was it that every time she thought about him, her stomach fluttered, and she felt so happy durin’ what was a time of great loss for her?

  To be certain, there was a lot of sadness. Even for Damien, who was stoic and strong, she read the mourning etched into his hard, masculine features. But it was the softer moments, the joy of reconnectin’, that really made the moments so special.

  When supper was approachin’, she heard the sound of his bike comin’ down the road and peered out the window. There he was, all dressed in black, tearin’ down the road towards home.

  When he got off his motorcycle, she noticed he was carryin’ a couple bags from out of the storage on his bike. He headed first to the workshop, and only then back towards the farmhouse, still carryin’ one of those bags in his arms.

  She’d been curious what he needed so bad in town. After all, when he headed back to the city he’d have access to everything he wanted and more.

  Includin’ a woman to come back here with, she reminded herself, and her happiness at his arrival was tempered with melancholy.

  “What’s for supper?” he asked with a grin as he stomped into the house, the big, leather-wearin’ biker like a bull rampaging about with how big he was. “I’m starved after all day.”

  He didn’t indicate what he carried, but moved on past her, into the other room, still in earshot as he stripped off his coat.

  “I decided on lasagne with the meat we got at the market,” she said, watching for his return. Her curiosity about him had grown to a fever pitch with him being gone all day.

  “Sounds delicious!” he called out from the other room.

  When he returned he wasn’t all dressed up or anythin’, just in his jeans and white shirt, but he bore a smile and offered up his package. He peeled away the paper wrapping to show a bouquet of expensive looking flowers. Nothin’ too fancy, as they were all from the local flower shop, but still…

  “Saw ‘em in the shop window and thought those ones I left you this mornin’ were a lil’ whimpy compared to these,” he said in a smooth, husky voice.

  Her heart jumped into her chest and she almost lost her ability to breathe. Worst still was the wetness that came to the corner of her
eyes, her lower lip trembling. It wasn’t just that she was touched that he did something so sweet, it was everything else. That soon he’d be walking out of her life again, back to the big city.

  Sure, maybe he’d call, or they’d try to get together for Christmas and Thanksgiving, but she was terrified of losing what they’d forged in their time together.

  “Damien,” she managed meekly, reaching out for the bouquet.

  He handed her the flowers, but didn’t retract his arm. Instead he stepped in close, placed his other hand upon her hip and looked a little concerned.

  “You okay?” he asked, his rugged face looking perturbed as a realization crept over him. “Oh shit… flowers don’t make you think of funerals do they? I mean… not just pa but, your ma passed on long ago too.”

  That wasn’t it, but it was surprising to hear the large, hardened biker think with such concern.

  She shook her head, but she had no idea what to say. How could she even begin to tell him that the reason she’s so upset is because she’s afraid of goin’ back to normal? To her lonely job in the diner, back into town. She’d never felt so bad about it before, it was happy and comfortable as a life got. But after their time together, it was like there’s a hole that couldn’t be filled.

  She wiped beneath her eyes, swallowing back her tears.

  “Naw, nothin’ like that. Just... Gonna miss it here,” she said weakly and without conviction.

  That made him stop and think, his deep, dark eyes scanning her as he pondered. Though his first response wasn’t with words, he merely slid his arm from her hip about her waist and pulled her in tight and close against his hard body.

  “There’s a dance comin’ tomorrow night. Over at the Swanson farm,” he said lowly. “Will you accompany me? That is, if you can spare the extra night from work…” he asked, brow raised in anticipation.

  It wasn’t what she expected, not even close. But the thought of going to a dance with him... She couldn’t deny that she wanted it. That she was excited at the prospect, even.

  She drew in her lower lip, gnawing it thoughtfully. What would people say, her showin’ up to a dance with him, though? But before she could talk herself out of it, his hand squeezed her hip, and she was brought back to the blissful present, his arms around her, his body so near to her own.