He needed to get away. He had to find a better way to cope with their tragic deaths.
It’s just unfortunate that he had to break Daniella Pruitt’s heart in the process.
The Present
September 2013
“You got a boyfriend, Danny Jo?” Aunt MaryLynn inquires as she butters her dinner roll.
“No. I’m just focusing on finishing college right now,” Daniella answers quietly. She’s already mentally preparing herself for her boisterous aunt’s response.
Aunt MaryLynn faintly titters and looks at her with disapproving eyes. “A girl like you shouldn’t be wasting her time with college. If you’d take the time to fix your hair and put on some makeup, you’d be prettier than a Sunday afternoon. Men like girls who take care of themselves. Ain’t that right Jed?” She nudges her husband with an elbow to get his attention.
“Uh huh,” he says immediately. Uncle Jed isn’t paying the least bit of attention to his pushy wife. The man learned early on to just agree with whatever she says. That seems to be a theme for everyone in Daniella’s family.
“See, Danny Jo? A woman should take pride in her appearance. You’re not gettin’ any younger, child.”
She practically laughs at the fact that her aunt is acting like she’s a forty-five-year-old woman walking around in a brown paper sack. Yes, she prefers to wear her long brunette locks up in a ponytail rather than down past her shoulders, and she follows the rule that less is actually more when it comes to makeup, but that shouldn’t constitute criticism from Aunt MaryLynn. The woman is wearing red silk with bubble gum pink lipstick for heaven’s sake. This is the exact reason she was dreading coming to her cousin Darlene’s wedding. Her Southern family has certain opinions on how a lady is supposed to act and dress, and apparently Daniella does not follow their views. And for the record, she’s twenty-one years old, despite the fact that her annoying aunt talks like she’s one month short of hitting menopause.
Tempted to lay into her aunt, she would love to give this woman a piece of her mind and let MaryLynn know how she really feels about those closed-minded views, but Daniella knows this wouldn’t get her anywhere. Growing up in the small town of Cumbie, Texas, she was raised around women who instilled in their daughters that once they hit the age of eighteen, their priorities should focus on finding an eligible man. Daniella is nowhere near the norm.
She’s the exception.
Apparently, the very pathetic exception. She’s the girl these Southern women gossip about while they’re getting their hair done at Mabel’s salon. She is the only girl who flunked out of charm school and refused to be a part of the beauty pageant circuit.
Yeah, she’s kind of a disgrace around these parts.
Her only redeeming quality is her love of dance. She’s a classically trained ballerina. Over fourteen years of working on her pointe technique at Miss Clara’s school of ballet was the only thing Daniella’s Southern family found acceptable. But once she turned in those pointe shoes and took up college courses at the University of Houston, their acceptance went out the window.
“I’m twenty-one, Aunt MaryLynn. I hardly think that constitutes the rush to find a man to settle down with.” She flashes her fakest smile.
And cue more titters of disapproval.
If it weren’t for her momma and daddy’s insistence on attending this wedding, she would have been out of here a long time ago. “If you’ll excuse me,” Daniella announces to the table as she stands up from her seat.
“Danny Jo!” her momma whisper-yells towards her.
She leans down and kisses her mother’s forehead affectionately. “Momma, I just need some fresh air,” she adds before turning on her heels and striding away from the table.
“Just let her go, Nadine. She’s young and shouldn’t have to waste her time hangin’ round us old folk.” She faintly hears her father’s voice as she walks away.
She chooses to ignore the shocked looks on the faces of everyone at the table. It’s a rather huge Cumbie faux pas to leave the table before everyone is finished eating, but Daniella would rather hang out with her second cousin Bubba than sit around and be berated for her life choices. And Bubba is no picnic. He is as thin as he is tall, and his constant flirtation with anyone who isn’t considered immediately family is completely disturbing. Bubba is frequently called ‘the groper’ and he lives up to his nickname.
She makes her way towards the open bar and grabs a beer from the bartender. Alcohol is probably the only thing that will get her through this disaster. She leans against the marble counter and looks around at the circus her cousin Darlene calls a wedding. Peach taffeta, peach roses, and a bride who looks like she belongs on the actual cake fills her line of vision. The women of Cumbie, have been raised with the idea that the more makeup and the bigger the hair, the better. Combine modern-day cotillions, childhood beauty pageants, and drag shows and that should provide a good mental picture of the current outrageous scene.
Darlene has truly outdone herself tonight. Her bright blond hair is piled on type of her head and adorned with a pink diamond-studded tiara. Her makeup? Well that’s a whole other story. Pink blush, blue eye shadow, lots of lip gloss. Daniella is more than thankful that Darlene didn’t ask her to be a bridesmaid. No one can pull off peach taffeta.
This wedding is a nightmare, she thinks quietly to herself.
It’s moments like these when she finds herself pissed off at both of her brothers. Billy is thousands of miles away in Germany living a military kind of life and Bobby is no longer living near Cumbie. He’s happily married with his wonderful wife Kate and their gorgeous daughter Eve. They moved up to Seattle after he landed his dream job with an architectural firm. Both of her brothers are amazingly talented in their own special ways. She couldn’t be more proud or happy for either of them, but it would still be nice if they were home every once in a while so she didn’t have to be the only Pruitt sibling to attend these pain-in-her-ass family events.
“Danny Jo? Is that you?” A familiar Southern drawl catches her attention. His voice is smooth like caramel with a hint of whiskey-like huskiness.
Her body turns unwillingly, slow as a snail. She glances to her left as a tall presence moves towards her and suddenly Daniella is face to face with familiar ice-blue eyes. She knows those eyes. She still has dreams of those eyes. Fantasies she’ll never admit to anyone.
Penn Wilder. God, even his name still sounds sexier than sin. It seems like forever since she’s laid eyes on him. Three years to be exact. She heard he was back in Texas about six months ago but prayed she would never run into him. She should’ve known he’d be at this wedding since his parents and Darlene’s parents used to be the best of friends.
She clears her throat and tries to push the annoying butterflies that have taken up residence inside her belly. “Hi, Penn.” Her greeting is as cold as Antarctica as her mouth draws into a straight line.
Despite all the years that have gone by, this man still manages to have an effect on her. She hates him and she can’t deny that deep down she still wants him. It’s completely fucked up. Her gaze takes in his facial features. His eyes are bluer than Texas bluebells, and they seem even more pronounced by the shadow of golden scruff that covers his masculine jaw.
Daniella is completely unnerved in his presence.
Memories of a particular night she spent in his arms float around the edge of her mind, threatening to rush through. She crosses her arms under her chest in defiance and mentally refuses to take a stroll down Penn Wilder Memory Lane.
“Hey, Danny Jo. You sure are a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart.” His mouth crests into that perfect smile that could disintegrate a nun’s panties. It seems that he has only gotten better looking with age. He’s bigger than Texas and hotter than Satan’s bedroom. Penn’s body is the type of body that would have a woman on her knees begging for more.
In fact, it once did that very thing to her.
“I try not to go by Danny Jo anymore,” she spit
s out with irritation lacing her normally sweet voice.
He chuckles in a low tone and that stupid grin is still present on his stupidly perfect mouth. Penn seems to bring out her inner five-year-old. She wants to stomp her feet in a rather unladylike way and has the insane urge to throw the bottle of beer her hand is gripping tightly towards his unsuspecting head. There’s no doubt Daniella would do both of those things if they wouldn’t cause a scene in the middle of the reception hall. Her body is as rigid as a two-by-four and she consciously wills all of her muscles to relax. Penn, on the other hand, looks completely unperturbed. She doesn’t appear to have the slightest effect on him and that more than pisses her off. Just once it would be nice to make him feel the way he makes her feel.
Is that really too much to ask?
“Well then, what do you go by these days?” he asks as his eyes take in the sight of her. She’s still as feisty as he remembers. Her big brown eyes could unleash a fury that would intimidate just about anyone. Well, anyone besides him. Daniella never had that kind of effect on him. She always held a different kind of power. A control that caused him to give in to something he never should have given in to. His attraction for her turned him into the worst kind of bastard, and he’s still pretty ashamed of that night.
Yeah, it was one fucking fantastic night, beautiful even, but it never should have happened. If only he would have known. If he would have known the truth, he never would have gone through with it. But by the time he realized, he was too far gone, too wrapped up in her seductive spell.
Her brow furrows and she has the insane urge to snarl at him. “My actual first name,” she responds in defiance.
“How are you doing these days, Daniella?” His eyes twinkle in a delightfully grating way.
He’s mentally refusing to let his gaze move south. He refuses to take in every perfect inch of her perfect body. It’s the hardest thing he’s had to do in a long god damn time. She’s still just as beautiful as he remembers, even more so actually. Her long brunette hair thrown up in her trademark ponytail only highlights her classic beauty. Her chocolate eyes are completely mesmerizing and still strong enough to suck him in, leaving him more than entranced.
“Considering that I’m standing at the bar—alone—at my cousin Darlene’s peach taffeta circus wedding, I guess you could say I’ve been better.” She finally uncrosses her arms and takes a long drink from her bottle of beer.
The movement of her arms urges his eyes downward. He takes in every inch of the short black dress that accentuates her flawless curves. God, her body is still perfect.
“Still full of piss and vinegar,” he goads with a joking tone. He can’t help it. Penn has always enjoyed teasing her. In his eyes, Daniella is at her most beautiful when she’s feisty and stubborn and challenging him.
A small smile hovers at the corners of her lips as she shrugs her shoulders in feigned indifference. “I guess so.”
She hates that he can still make her smile. Penn Wilder doesn’t deserve her smiles, yet he seems to have the insane power of soaking them all up like a greedy sponge.
Silence descends upon them and she averts her gaze from his, busying herself with people watching. She can barely contain herself whenever he’s around, her emotions bouncing up and down like a yo-yo. Her sanity is held by the tiniest string, and it threatens to snap at any given moment.
Eventually, her eyes find their way back in his direction; he’s a magnet she can’t avoid. She peers out of her periphery and watches his Adam’s apple bob in the most appealing way as he takes a final swallow from his bourbon.
“Dance with me,” Penn demands as he sets his rocks glass on the bar and holds his hand out for her. He decides to give in to the craving to hold her in his arms, even if it’s under the pretense of a simple dance.
“No,” she responds adamantly. No. Fucking. Way.
“Come on, darling. Just one dance. That’s all I’m asking.” He cocks his head to the side, giving her that patented look. The look that could make her agree to just about anything.
She stares into those ocean blues and can’t resist.
With a shrug of her shoulders, she places her hand in his, letting him take the lead. The song switches over to Strawberry Wine by Deana Carter as they step onto the crowded dance floor. She loathes country music, and her face can’t stifle the obvious cringe at the Southern cliché choice in song selection. This is just another reason Daniella can add to the long list of why she doesn’t belong in the small Texas town of Cumbie.
Penn’s masculine grip grabs ahold of her waist, pulling her closer to him. Their chests are nearly touching, and the wonderful smell of him assaults her senses. His movements are slow and sensual and drugging. She’s high off of his very presence. The fourteen-year-old girl in her is squealing in excitement while eighteen-year-old Daniella wants to smack him clear across his beautiful face. She relinquishes into his hold and places her petite palm on his chest as they slowly sway to the music. His large hand presses into the small of her back, spurring a rush of tingles up her spine. Her irrational brain chooses to let fourteen-year-old Danny Jo enjoy this moment.
“What have you been up to?” He stifles the urge to run his lips along the sensitive spot in the crook of her neck. The feel of her creamy skin is like a drug and he might as well be a recovering addict. His fingers itch to touch her, stroke her, caress delicious moans from her plump lips.
He craves her.
“Just finishing up my degree and still helping Momma and Daddy out at the diner.” She glances up at him underneath her thick lashes and finds him intently staring down at her. He’s displaying a look she can’t decipher. Her foolish brain tells her it’s a look of want, of absolute need, but she knows that can’t be true. If he really wanted her, he never would have walked away without looking back, without even uttering goodbye. But god, he’s too much, and he’s still the epitome of perfection in her stupid eyes.
“Your momma and daddy still keeping Nadine’s Diner up and running?”
She nods in response. “Of course. Where else would the residents of Cumbie get their favorite loose-meat sandwiches?”
Penn chuckles softly. “I guess you’re right. Well, good for you, Daniella. I had no doubt you’d make something of yourself. You’ve always been one of the smartest, most tenacious girls I’ve ever met.” His smile is soft and his blue eyes are warm. He looks so good, healthy actually. That sharp, hardened edge is long gone.
She hates and she loves and she hates the sound of her name from his lips. His words tickle her inner girlish excitement, threatening to bring fourteen-year-old Danny Jo out of hiding. She refuses to start swooning over this frustratingly gorgeous man. He doesn’t deserve her swoons.
“How’s Billy?” he asks sincerely.
The subject change is a nice reprieve from her incessant inner monologue. “Billy is great, just finished up a tour in Iraq. He is stationed in Germany right now. I miss him like crazy. Actually, I miss both of my brothers, but I don’t miss them being their usual overprotective, pain-in-my-ass selves. They scared a lot of boyfriends away back in the day.” Daniella’s lips crest into a grin just thinking about the numerous dates her brothers threatened to beat the shit out of. Those boys sure have an interesting way of showing their love for their sister.
Penn’s husky laugh washes over her and the smell of peppermint with just a hint of bourbon fills her senses. Oh lordy, even his breath smells good.
“I’m sure you do, darlin’. I talked to Bobby a couple of days ago. It sounds like he’s doing really well. And Eve looks just like him. That little girl has him wrapped around her tiny finger.” He smiles at the sentiment. “So who’s the lucky bastard who managed to get his hands on you?”
She lets out a barking laugh from the mere shock of his audacity.
Why in the fuck does he even care?
“Uh, that’s really none of your business, Penn,” she scolds. Her sharp tone causes the tip of her tongue to sting.
His
jaw clenches a tad and he is eerily quiet for an endless minute. He’s doing his best to rein in the strong emotions that sit heavy and unrelenting in his gut. Daniella has always had attitude, more attitude than should be humanly possible to bottle up inside of her tiny frame.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just trying to make small talk.” His words are tense as his hands grasp her body a little tighter.
Despite the tension flowing between them like an electrical current, they continue to sway to the cliché country music the wedding DJ is playing. Daniella catches sight of the DJ’s wardrobe and nearly stops in her tracks. Neon green sunglasses and a white tuxedo are never a good wardrobe option.
God, she’s snarky tonight. She’s blaming this on two things: Darlene’s peach taffeta circus wedding and Penn Wilder. Add those two things together and she’s bound to lose her cool at some point in the evening. She’s shocked she’s managed to remain remotely civil in his presence.
“No lucky bastard,” she whispers quietly against his chest.
Why is she even giving him the satisfaction of an answer to his earlier question?
The responses her mind and her body have to Penn have always been a complete mystery to her. He leans back and looks down at her with a questioning gaze. His brow furrows and his eyes crinkle at the corners.
“I was answering your earlier question. There’s no guy in my life right now. I don’t have time for a relationship…or dating. I’m too busy with classes and working at the diner. Hell, I barely have time to go out with my girlfriends,” she adds and then rests her head against his chest again, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed against her cheek.
“How old are you now?” he inquires. His breath brushes across her forehead.
“Twenty-one.”
He softly mumbles something that she can’t discern.
Daniella inclines back to observe his piercing blue eyes, desperately trying to gauge his reaction. “What? You’re only five years older than me, Penn.” I’m not Bobby’s little sister. I’m a grown-ass woman! A woman you couldn’t resist one magical night… These thoughts relentlessly scream inside of her brain.
Southern Seduction Page 4
