With This Ring (Denim & Spurs Book 1)

by Aliyah Burke

  Dustin. Just the thought of his name heated her again. Dressing swiftly, she brushed out her hair and went to the door. Not ready to face him yet, she sat on the lid of the toilet and redid her nail polish, using that to expend a bit more time. With a deep breath, she turned it and stepped out, taking in the view before her. Dustin sat at the table, sofa side, and a man she didn’t know occupied the other chair. Her cowboy—yes, that’s how she viewed him—still hadn’t put a shirt on, and she struggled not to stare at his broad chest.

  The other cowboy was a looker. Blond hair and crystal blue eyes. Not as wide in the shoulders as Dustin; however, there was no mistaking the strength he possessed. He stood when she entered, those blue eyes raking her from top to bottom.

  “Howdy, darlin’.” He possessed a rich voice that made her need to cool off again. Damn it all, at this rate, she’d melt before the sun even came up. “Introduce us, Dustin.”

  Tearing her gaze from the handsome newcomer, she turned her attention to Dustin, waiting.

  “Mac. Samantha Finley. Samantha. Trent McCloud goes by Mac.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mac. Please call me, Finn.”

  “Will do, darlin’. You here with Dustin? Tell me how that happened.”

  She smiled and placed her bag down. “I’m sure y’all have things to discuss.”

  “Nonsense. I’d much rather talk to you.” There was hint of an accent to his words, but she couldn’t quite place where from. “Especially if my choice is—”

  “Back off, Mac,” Dustin growled.

  Finn hadn’t moved her gaze from Dustin and the possessiveness on his face shocked her. He wasn’t hiding it, no, it was right there for any and all to see. His royal blue eyes burned with a feral fire she’d never seen before on him. She shivered beneath his gaze and felt claimed. Branded. Possessed.

  “Breakfast,” she said. “I’ll fix some while you get ready.” She wasn’t sure she could handle the proprietary stare he leveled at her much longer.

  Silent, Dustin rose and grabbed some clothes from his closet before making his way past Mac—who she swore received some kind of private message from Dustin—to brush against her, seconds prior to vanishing in the bathroom. She and Mac stared at one another for a moment.

  “Eggs, toast, and sausage okay for you?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  She made her way to the kitchen and began pulling the necessary items out. “Scrambled work?”

  “Sure does.”

  “Do you know how Dustin prefers them?”

  Mac propped his hip beside her against the Formica countertop. “Haven’t you made breakfast for him before after…one of your nights?”

  They would all get scrambled. She began to crack the eggs in a bowl.

  “I think you have the wrong idea of myself and Dustin.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I do. You’re presuming I’ve had sex with him. I haven’t.”

  “Hmm.” Mac put some bread in the toaster. “How do you know him?”

  “Both from Branchwater.”

  “Elaborate, darlin’.”

  “Nothing else to say. We’re friends.” Friends who almost fucked, but no need to share that bit of information.

  “More than that, darlin’, considering how intense his stare as he watches you.” He buttered the pan and turned on a burner. “What do you do in Branchwater?”

  “I’m visiting to help out my father. I don’t live there anymore.”

  “Where are you now? Dallas? San Antonio?”

  “Maryland.”

  He whistled low. “What in God’s name are you doing up there?”

  She couldn’t help but smile at the incredulity in his question. “Working and living.”

  “Time to come home, darlin’. What pulled you away?”

  “I work on a horse farm.”

  He looked at her, brows furrowed as the sausage links cooked in the pan before him. “Stable manager? Farm hand?”

  She shook her head and beat the eggs. “Farrier.” No matter how many years she’d been in this line of work, she did love the shocked look some men got when they learned what she did. Mac’s expression wasn’t any different, and she stifled her laugh.

  Chapter Seven

  Dustin listened to Mac and Samantha laugh together as they cooked. He stood alone before the mirror, gripping the sink, and tried to rein in the possessive demands his body experienced. Each laugh made him long to snarl savagely at Mac before staking his claim on Samantha.

  Christ! Just thinking of her in his arms this morning sent the blood south. The scent of her had been both imprinted and infused upon him. He’d never forget the warmth of her curves atop and below him. Then there was the lingering memory of her silken skin. He’d never been so hard for a woman.

  One final look in the mirror and he left the room to join the duo. Samantha was placing dishes on the table, and Mac was close with glasses of juice.

  Yeah, my day did not start this way in my head. At least not with Mac here. Dustin met Samantha’s gaze and her welcoming, albeit a bit shy, smile calmed the irrational emotions coursing through him. Raking a hand through damp hair, he approached her, ignoring Mac.

  Delicious scents wafted up from the table, and he took in the food waiting for them. “Thanks,” he said. “Looks great.”

  He felt a kick to his solar plexus when her tongue snuck out and dampened her lips. How rude would it be for him to kick Mac out, rip the clothes from Samantha, and put the counter to a much better use?

  “Finn’s been telling me she’s a farrier,” Mac said, sitting in the chair after Dustin drew Samantha down beside him on the sofa.

  “Has she?” He pressed his leg against hers, following the movement when she tried to shift away.

  “Fascinating. I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman like Finn before.”

  Dustin narrowed his gaze at Mac. Finn. He didn’t want the man to call her that. Then again, he didn’t want him to call her Samantha either. In fact, as far as Dustin was concerned, Mac hadn’t reason to speak to her. “She’s special,” Dustin agreed.

  Mac lifted his glass and winked at Samantha. Dustin clenched a fist to keep from punching his friend in the face. Conversation flowed around the table with ease as they made short work of the food. During the entire meal, Dustin insisted on maintaining bodily contact with her. After five tries, she finally stopped attempting to get space between them.

  Mac finished and stood, tan Stetson clutched in one hand. “Thanks for breakfast. I best be going. I’ll see y’all around the Expo.” Reaching across the table, he bowed low over Samantha’s hand. “I look forward to seeing you again, Finn.” A brief pause. “Dustin.”

  “Likewise, Mac.”

  “Bye, Mac,” Dustin said, glaring at him pointedly.

  Another wink to the woman beside him and Mac let himself out. Dustin had turned to Samantha before the door had fully closed. One arm along the back of the sofa, he leaned closer.

  “I should get this cleaned up,” she said, slipping away before he could stop her.

  He blew out a frustrated breath and angled himself so he could watch her as she busied herself. Even now, sitting here staring at her, had him hard and aching with the amount of want flowing through him. She didn’t parade before him in sexy clothing, but it didn’t matter.

  Her jeans showed signs of wear and curved about her lower body with a lover’s familiarity. Her dark blue shirt had a gorgeous mountain image upon the front with a rearing horse in it. On the back it read: Love A Horse & You’ll Know Freedom.

  She had it tucked in, emphasizing her waist and those perfect breasts—breasts he’d had in his hands and mouth earlier.

  Determined, he pushed up from the sofa and approached her as she cleaned. Nuzzling the back of her neck, he groaned at the feel of her thick hair, streaming along his skin. Erotic dreams were born from such hair. She tensed and leaned forward.

  He curved an arm around her mi
dsection and drew her flush to him, his erection rubbing against her. “Ignoring me won’t make me vanish, darlin’.”

  “I’m cleaning.”

  “You’re trying to ignore me.”

  “I’m doing a piss poor job then if that was my aim.” She moved, and he admired the flow of muscles. There existed nothing weak about Samantha Finley. She was all strength and yet inherently feminine. He could watch her all day and never lose interest.

  “We need to talk about this morn—”

  “No, we don’t.” He frowned and spun her in order to see her features. “We’re adults, Dustin. What happens, happens. I have no need to psychoanalyze sexual lust that has been between us for a while now. Go check your boys, I’ll finish up here and find you to see if you need any help.”

  She pivoted back to the sink and washing dishes. He’d been summarily dismissed. Brushing some of her hair aside, he nipped then licked her neck. Her shiver delighted him, and he left before he forgot he had a job to do at the Expo.

  Dustin stood with El Rey in the stall an hour later when he spied Samantha making her way through. Leaning against his stallion, Dustin stared at her, grateful to be observing her privately.

  “She’s something else, isn’t she, El Rey?” His horse snorted with a toss of his head. He knew the animals liked her as well. “Thought so,” he muttered, suddenly anxious for her to be at his side.

  He’d just closed the half door when she walked up, a slight smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes. His heart reacted instantly. Only with its next beat he understood it wasn’t for him but his horses. She lavished attention on Lawless and Dante before turning to El Rey.

  “Good morning, handsome,” she cooed to his stallion.

  Dustin angled his body so no one would be able to see the erection threatening to poke a hole in his pants. Gods, her voice was straight from his most volatile wet dream.

  “Anything I can do?” She glanced at him. “Before this thing really gets going.”

  “I think we’re good. If you could just swing by and check on water for them? I don’t know what your—”

  She faced him completely, one hand on her hip, head canted. “So we’re not hanging out together at this thing?”

  He paused. “Hanging out together.”

  “I figured we would be, I mean, you did invite me after all.”

  “You…you want to spend the time with me?” He heard the shock in his tone.

  Samantha moved until barely any space was between them. She touched his chest, fingers spreading wide over the beating of his heart. He longed to kiss her again. Feel her soft and plump lips beneath his.

  “Why else would I come, Dustin? I know you have to be here some time and you have your demos—which I am looking forward to—but otherwise I thought—”

  He kissed her silent. When she sank against him, he reluctantly ended said exchange, his hands cupping her face.

  “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” she said, her lips turned up with a smile.

  Gods, her smile could knock him for a loop. He swiped his thumbs along her lips before lowering his hands from her skin. Closing the top part of the door to El Rey’s stall, he stepped back and glanced down at the woman beside him. She fairly glowed with excitement.

  “I got us some tickets to the rodeo as well.”

  The flash of white as she grinned wider had him wanting to kiss her all over again.

  “Let’s go explore.”

  While it wasn’t the foremost thing on his mind, he didn’t argue as she began walking. There were over eight hundred trade show booths at the site, and he knew there was something for everyone here. He loved attending this and from the excitement on her face, Samantha was going to enjoy it as well.

  * * * *

  Dustin finished riding El Rey at the daily stallion demo and dismounted after he left the arena. He’d not seen Samantha in the crowd, but to be fair, the place had been full and he had to keep his attention on the task before him. Nodding to some of the guys back of the arena, he patted El Rey’s neck and began walking him from the building to where they were stalled.

  Many people waylaid him as he progressed, and he allowed them to look and touch. Stallions had a bad rap but El Rey, as he’d told Samantha, was an old pro at this. He knew just how to behave himself.

  As he neared the stalls his animals were in, he heard a feminine voice—one that chilled the blood in his veins. It didn’t matter that Big Mike had warned him she was around at the Expo, somewhere in him he’d not expected to run into her. Charlotte Beaumonde.

  He found her by Dante’s stall, clad in obscenely tight blue jeans that looked painted on and a shirt which would have served her better in a wet tee contest as opposed to a horse exposition. Her blonde hair curled down around her shoulders, ending mid-back. He recalled the numerous times he’d enjoyed trailing his hands through the soft strands. The times he’d looked forward to her tresses dragging along his skin as they made love to one another. Now, however, it did nothing to him. None of the memories he had brought him anything but the feeling of indigestion.

  Where was Samantha? Had Charlotte said something to her? His ex-fiancée turned toward him and gave him a shy smile. The one that had attracted him in the first place. Didn’t work worth a damn now.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked brusquely as he moved by her into El Rey’s stall and began stripping the tack off his stallion.

  “I wanted to talk.”

  She almost followed him in, but he shut the door before she could. Her expression told him she wasn’t expecting that kind of reception. She glanced around as if checking to see if anyone had seen him shut her out as he had.

  “Don’t reckon there’s anything left for us to say to one another. You did all your talking the day of our wedding. And trust me, I got the message. Loud and clear.”

  She licked her lips and pursed them into a pout, which in the past would have worked on him. He returned his attention to his stallion and brushed him down before leaving the stall with the saddle and bridle in one hand.

  “Let me explain,” she said.

  He gazed around again. Where was Samantha? They had tickets to get to the rodeo later on, but he’d wanted to walk there with her.

  “Nothing to explain.”

  She grabbed his wrist, and he scowled at her. “I’m late,” she said.

  He blinked at her, nonplussed. “Then leave me alone and get to wherever the hell you need to be.”

  “Not that kind of late. Missing my cycle kind of late. You know, the kind which ends up nine months later with a squealing bundle of joy.”

  Cold settled over him and he glared at her, the saddle he placed on the floor as he tried to wrap his thoughts around her words. “Are you trying to tell me you’re carrying my child?” His mind churned with the implications of such a statement.

  She licked her lips and nodded. He crossed his arms, disengaging her touch.

  “How do you know it’s mine? You were with all those men on our wedding day, Charlotte, and let’s not forget we always used protection.”

  Fire flashed in her blue eyes. “You think I don’t know who the father of my child is?”

  “I think a woman—and I use that term loosely—who would cheat on her fiancé on their wedding day has the right to be questioned about such a claim.”

  Her expression told of her frustration and rising ire. He didn’t care, not in the least.

  “We’ll talk about this later.” She had a perverse look on her face.

  He shook his head. “No point unless you bring me proof it’s my child. I’ll insist on a DNA test to make sure.” He glanced at his watch. “Stay away from me, Charlotte.” Swinging the saddle up, he strode off down the aisle to put the items in his trailer then go find the one woman he wanted to see at this thing.

  As he climbed the rows to his seat, he exhaled in relief to spy Samantha already there. She sat forward in her seat, watching the pre-show. He settled beside her, noting she’d c
hanged since he’d seen her last.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  Her gaze met his, and his heart stuttered a bit at her closed off expression. It only lingered a short time, and he wondered if he wasn’t imagining things. “Not a problem. Hasn’t begun anyway.” Her focus went back down to the hard packed dirt floor and those on it.

  He watched her and noticed how stiff she was beside him. Shit. Had she heard the exchange between him and Charlotte? And if she had, how would he explain this to her?

  * * * *

  Finn took a deep breath and fought back the warring emotions raging within her. She had no right to be jealous or angry over who the man spoke to. However, that didn’t negate the fact when she’d come around the corner and seen Dustin talking to Charlotte Beaumonde those were the exact feelings that had coursed through her. One part of her wanted to go over there, snatch that blonde-haired bitch, and smack her around. The part that won, however, was her logical side. The side who behaved as a good daughter and didn’t engage in displays like that. The one who didn’t let on anything was bothering her.

  It’s not as if I didn’t know this was a possibility. He told me himself that she was here.

  She exhaled and shifted in her seat. Logical thoughts be damned, it had bothered her a hell of a lot to see Charlotte there with that baby soft and perfectly manicured hand on Dustin’s arm. Finn curled her fingers in to her palms and hid the calluses that lived on hers.

  When the announcer began speaking, she tuned him out, trying to figure out a way for this incident not to affect her time with Dustin. She had to be logical. She wasn’t here long term so if he wanted to rekindle things with her, it was his right. It’s his right even if I do stay here. More of that unpleasantness churned in her gut.

  “Samantha,” he said from beside her.

  Tipping her head to the side so she could see him, Finn raised a brow in silent question. His eyes were transfixed on hers, and the heat in them made her forget about the thousand or so people in the stands and focus completely on him. His gaze dipped to her lips then returned to her eyes. Her tongue snuck out, skimming the same path his gaze had just followed, and she groaned at the responding flash of heat he portrayed.