by Leah Braemel
Thank God she’d given him a way out. “Yeah, the truck Phil used to transport your stuff turned up. Apparently, he sold it to a guy who didn’t realize it was stolen and tried to change the ownership with the DPS. He said he bought the truck at a swap meet after Phil had sold everything in it.”
Her shoulders slumped, and the light in her eyes faded. “Oh. I was hoping…”
Her voice was so small, so heartbroken, that before he thought twice about it, he’d wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. “I’m sorry, Nik, but I doubt you’ll get anything back unless you start haunting yard sales.”
She breathed an even quieter “Oh” into his chest.
How had he ended up with her in his arms again after vowing to stay away from her? What type of bastard was he that his cock was demanding to be buried in her when she needed to be comforted? You stupid fucking prick, you’re going to destroy everything you’ve got.
“Have you talked to your parents about Phil? Have they offered to help you replace any of your stuff?” Are you thinking of moving back to your own place?
“Dad got laid off again a couple weeks ago, so they don’t have any money to spare. Besides, they’re still angry that the cops were called. They think I should have kept it quiet, not said anything to anyone. When I told them the bank and the credit companies were planning on laying fraud charges against him, they…well, they haven’t called me since, and they’re not picking up when I phone them.”
Her body trembled against his, the effort at not crying evident in the way she was gulping air. Her hair tickled his cheek when he pressed it against her head and ran his hands along her spine in a futile attempt to soothe her. “It’s all right, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong. Everyone knows that. I’m here for you.”
He was here for her? Where had he been the last month? He’d been off licking his own wounded ego when he should have put her first.
A board squeaked on the porch; Dillon stared at them through the screen door, his jaw jutting to one side.
Shit.
Brett pulled his arms from around Nikki and placed them on her shoulders, drawing her away. “Sorry to bail on you, Nik, but I have to get back to work.”
He stiffened when she stood on her toes and kissed him, her lips brushing over his as soft as a butterfly’s wings. “Thanks, Brett. I’ll never be able to make it up to you.”
Aware of Dillon watching them, he swallowed and nodded, wanting to tell Dillon that her kiss meant nothing, that he felt nothing but friendship for her. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
“I’d better be going.” Stepping around Dillon with a nod, he hurried down the stairs and around the house to where he’d parked his car. A hailstorm of gravel flew out from behind the car as he spun it out of the driveway.
Five miles later, he slowed for a stop sign at the edge of town. Shitfuckdamn. Why the fuck had he walked away? There was no ring on her finger. As far as he knew, Dillon had never once said he loved her. Why should Dillon get Nikki? Didn’t he deserve a shot?
Because if you try to get between them, it’ll be senior year all over again. No, it would be worse, because the rest of the Barnetts would have to side with Dillon this time. And he’d lose them too.
Which was exactly why he had to keep pretending watching Dillon with Nikki didn’t rip his guts out.
Dillon took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh to dislodge as much dust as he could before he came in the house. Holy hell in a bucket, there had to be something wrong with him. Who else would get a hard-on from watching Brett holding Nikki like that? If it had been anyone else with their arms anywhere near her, he would have been plowing his fist into their belly about now. But all he could imagine was pressing his dick against Nikki’s backside and sandwiching her between them.
“Nothing happened between us, I swear.” Nikki’s eyes were wide, her fingers twisted together.
Shit, she thought he was mad at her? Had that bastard Wade thought she’d cheated on him? Had he been the jealous sort? What was it Brett had told him about Wade? He kept his voice gentle. “I know.”
If he was honest with himself, he could think of a reason why Brett might think he’d be jealous. One he himself had given his friend ten years before. But hell, he wasn’t a raw kid anymore. If Nikki preferred Brett to him, then he was man enough to stand back. It would be like slicing his wrists open to let her go, but he wasn’t about to destroy their friendship, especially if she didn’t want him. Which made his fantasy that much more bizarre.
“So you’re not mad?”
“Nope.” He toed off his boots before opening the screen door. Moving slowly, he approached her. Once he was close enough, he stroked her arms until her shoulders dropped and her death grip on herself eased. God, she was amazing. Her family had walked away from her—actually blamed her because Phil was an asshole, she’d lost everything she owned, and here she was pulling herself together. Talk about a steel backbone.
“You know, seeing you with Brett made me kind of hot. If he hadn’t peeled out of here so fast, I might have suggested—”
Shoot, boy, you can’t tell her you were considering a threesome. What type of pervert would she think you are?
The type of pervert you are, dumbass. Sheesh. “I heard what he told you about your stuff. Are you okay?”
Unfortunately Nikki didn’t let it drop. “What would you have suggested?”
He recognized the way her eyes zeroed in and focused solely on him. He’d seen her use that dominant look on one of her more stubborn colts. Man, that was hot. Sweet and innocent one moment, all business and power the next. He shook off the lingering fantasy of the three of them getting hot and sweaty between the sheets. That was never going to happen. “Nah, never mind. Just an idea—” fantasy “—I’ve had.”
But he couldn’t stop thinking about how fantastic it would be to have his cock buried in Nikki’s sweet pussy while she sucked Brett off. He adjusted his jeans covering his hard-on. Like she’d go for that little scenario. If he even suggested it, he’d be the one with Brett’s fist in his gut.
“An idea? Involving Brett?” She must have been having a few fantasies of her own from the blush that crept up her neck and filled her cheeks. Damned, if she didn’t look even more innocent. And as sexy as all get out.
He pulled down the neck of her shirt and peered beneath the fabric.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing if that blush you’ve got going extends all the way down. Hey, look at that, it does.”
She slapped at his hand until his finger popped from the fabric. “Do you ever think of anything but sex?”
“Sure. I think of food sometimes too.” He couldn’t resist teasing her, especially when she rolled her eyes. At least she wasn’t looking like a puppy someone had kicked, like she had when he’d arrived. “Nothing like a nice grilled steak. Baked sweet potato with some marshmallows roasted on top. S’all good.”
She opened the oven and gave him a delicious view of her ass. “It’s not a steak, and there’s no sweet potato, but I did make you this.”
Whatever it was, it smelled delicious. Of course, so did the woman who’d made it. He peered over her shoulder and inhaled. She’d never know it wasn’t her dinner he was sniffing. “What is it?”
“It’s a tortilla casserole.”
As she set the dish on a trivet, it struck Dillon how he looked forward to meal time since she’d moved in. How many hot meals he’d eaten with her sitting across the table from him instead of him standing, alone, at the counter eating cold Sunday leftovers his mother had packed? Why had he not realized before the simple pleasure of curling up on the couch with her instead of staring at the television, the canned laughter and commercials his only company. Even the thrill he got in racing home to find her waiting for him.
Home. That’s what it was. This wasn’t just a house anymore, a place he came to sleep. This was his home, the way he’d dreamed it would become. Having Nikki here mad
e the difference.
“So I’ve been thinking.” She turned to face him, resting one hip against the table. “Since Brett doesn’t figure they’ll ever recover any of my stuff, I should probably start shopping for a new bed, that type of thing. Start replacing everything I’ve lost.”
The image of her greeting him every day shattered into a thousand shards as if she’d taken a sledgehammer to it.
“What?” He swallowed, hoping she hadn’t noticed how his voice had gone up a full octave until he sounded like his youngest brother Matt before his voice broke last summer. “What’s wrong with our bed?”
“There’s nothing wrong with your bed, Dillon. But it’s time for me to move back to my place. To have my own bed again.”
No fucking way was she moving out now. Didn’t she realize how right they were together? He stared at her as she placed the plate she’d heated on the table. “You can stay here. As long as you want.”
“What are you asking me, Dillon? What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want you to stay here. With me. Forever. Marry me, Nikki.” What the fuck? Where the fucking hell had that come from? Yet as a part of his brain sat back and examined the idea, marriage to Nikki felt right. Yeah. Marriage. The two of them together. Waking up to her beside him. Going to bed with her too. Talking in the evenings. Doing things together. How come he hadn’t seen it before?
Not meeting his gaze, she toyed with the fork she’d used to stir the casserole. “I’ve been married once, Dillon. It didn’t work out. I’m not sure I want to get married again. Not yet.”
Not an outright no. All right, there was still hope. “Not yet? But maybe sometime in the future?”
She nodded. “Perhaps. There’s still a lot we don’t know about each other, Dillon. I don’t want to rush into a decision I’ll regret. I’ve been down that road before.”
“So we’ll live together for a while. I’ll give you as long as you need.” He crossed the distance between them, took the fork from her hand and turned her to face him. “Ask me whatever you want to know about me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
What did she want to know about him? What had she wished she’d known about Wade before they’d gotten married?
Start with the big one. See if her question, and her response, would scare him off. “Do you want children?”
He didn’t go running. Instead he skimmed his hand through his hair, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. Not immediately. I’d like some time with you first. But yeah, I’d like kids.”
“I’m not sure I can give you babies, Dillon.”
There it was. That look people gave her when she told them. That goddamned “Aww, I’m so sorry” look she despised.
“Don’t give up hope, Nik. Mom had a miscarriage between Griffin and Ethan. She went on to have three more healthy babies.”
He’d even softened his voice. Damn it. What was it about people? “You don’t understand. The miscarriage left me damaged. Scarred.”
He cupped her face with one hand, running one calloused thumb along her jaw. “Oh, baby, I’m not looking for a broodmare. Besides, there’s always adoption.”
That’s what her doctor had said too. Wade had dismissed the idea out of hand, saying he wasn’t taking in someone else’s bastard. “It’s not the same as having your own flesh and blood.”
Dillon frowned. “I don’t know if I agree. Brett’s as close to me as my other brothers, even if we don’t have the same genes—closer, even. I know my mom and dad love him as much as the rest of us.”
Right, how had she forgotten they’d taken Brett in and treated him as if he was a Barnett born and bred?
Even knowing she might not be able to give him children, he still wanted to marry her. A sense of hope for the future, a future with Dillon, soared, making her giddy. Maybe…no, this was going too fast. She forced her dreams to stop spinning through her head and attempted to dim the smile that wanted to burst from her heart.
“What if…what if I want to go back to school? Would you be okay with me having to study all night instead of…” She shrugged. “I don’t know, sitting with you watching a movie?”
He grabbed a chair and shoved it toward her, then flopped into the bench opposite once she sat down. “You’d like to go back to school?”
“I’d planned on it back in high school.” Before she’d found out she was pregnant. “I’d like to take a course in genetics, maybe go for a degree in stable management.”
Dillon’s face lit up. “I think that would be great. Texas A&M’s got an equine management degree, and there are some great courses you can take online these days too, if you want.”
He jumped up and ran into his office, talking the whole time. “You could take genetics and reproductive physiology. I’m pretty sure they have a course on forage and pasture crops if you wanted to go in that direction. Maybe we could plant some of our own feed for the horses, make use of some of my land.”
He carried his laptop back and powered it on, then grabbed the chair beside her while he waited for it to boot up.
Whenever she’d talked about going to school to Wade, he’d snarl and sulk. Yet Dillon—she’d never seen him so animated. Being around such confidence was infectious, and she wanted more. Resting one hip against the table, she threaded her fingers through his hair, as if she could capture the energy he radiated.
What would it be like to live in a household with someone so enthusiastic and upbeat all the time?
It had been heaven, her conscience answered, reminding her she’d been here over a month. A month without fighting or yelling, a month where they’d shared the chores as well as laughs. She felt more at home here than she did in her own house. The warmth of happiness bubbled up inside her.
“You wouldn’t mind if I went back to school?”
His jaw dropped as if she’d asked a foolish question. “Why would I mind? You’ve got a passion for those horses of yours, Nik. You should feed it.”
She launched herself into his arms. “Oh, Dillon. Thank you! You’re the first person who’s listened to me and taken me seriously in I don’t know how long.”
“You want to really thank me?” Dillon nuzzled her neck, driving all other thoughts from her head.
She tilted her head to give him better access. “Let me guess, get up to the bedroom?”
“Why waste the energy when we’ve got a perfectly good table right here?” Reaching over to his laptop, he snapped the lid shut with one hand and placed it on the bench. “Stand up.”
Thirty seconds later, she shivered when her naked back contacted the cool wood of the table top. “Dillon, this can’t be hygienic.”
“Oh, we’ll wash the table down later, don’t you worry about it.” He leaned over her to press a kiss to first one tightly furled nipple then the other. “Stay there for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
She lifted herself up on one elbow as he rummaged around in the cupboard. “What are you looking for?”
He paused long enough to cast a glance over his shoulder. “Uh uh. Lie back. The master’s at work.”
Rolling her eyes, she obeyed him. Moments later, something cold and hard landed on her belly making her jump. “Sheesh, Dillon!”
“Ooops, sorry.” He scooped up the can of whipped cream he’d dropped and placed it beside the bottle of caramel sauce.
“Dillon, you aren’t…”
He winked as he grinned down at her. “Sure am. Now lie back.”
Without giving her a chance to object, he spread her thighs wide and settled at the end of the table between them. “Dessert before dinner. Yum.”
His boyish grin disarmed her enough to follow his instructions and not think about what he was going to do. Fingers gently parted her folds, and seconds later a hot tongue swiped between them, driving her breath from her. Dillon Barnett knew exactly what to do to excite her, inflame her.
She couldn’t stop her giggles, however, when he sprayed a ring of whipped cream around then over each b
eaded nipple. The giggles changed to soft pants as he licked the white crown from each point. He drizzled the caramel in her cleavage and over her belly, swirling it in random designs with his tongue.
The heat of his breath, combined with the warmth of his tongue on her belly, had her muscles tightening. Her blood pulsed just beneath the surface of her skin that was quickly become overly sensitive, her body anticipating the path. Her hips lifted off the table when his teeth nipped the tender skin just above her hipbone.
“Dillon.”
He leaned over her to kiss her nose. “Sssh. Just feel, baby.”
Her pulse spiked when he resumed lapping the caramel from her body. She shivered when he skimmed a line of cream around her belly button, followed by a swirl that ended just above the neat triangle of hair covering her mound. He drizzled the caramel over the swirl then capped the bottle. “Ooops, dripped some.”
Instead of the grin he’d given her earlier, his look was pure hunger. She couldn’t stop the tremble that swept through her. He lowered his mouth, lapping and nipping her clean, then moved lower until his tongue touched her clit. He licked it lightly, then sucked until she pressed into him, grabbing the edge of the table for support.
The hsss of the spray can gave her barely a moment’s notice before the cool cream coated her breasts once again. While his tongue returned its attentions to cleaning her, his fingers broached her pussy, teasing the sensitive tissue inside.
Her mind stopped working, swamped with the sensations he was creating. Her body shuddered, her leg muscles tensed, her need for release greater than she’d ever felt before. And still he drove her higher, harder, until she fought to breathe against the overwhelming urges. His thumb swiped over her clit one last time. She cried out, her body jerking against him, her climax slamming through her in a tidal wave.
Before she could finish, he straightened, overturning his chair in his haste. He hooked her ankles over his shoulders, unbuttoned his jeans, freeing his heavy erection. She couldn’t take her eyes off the turgid head as he palmed it. He drove the breath from her when he thrust balls-deep into her still-pulsing channel, then slowly withdrew, his shaft glistening with her juices.
