Unable to Resist

by Cassie Graham

  Duane’s face turns to stare right at me, and his eyes gleam with happiness. I mirror his smile and sigh. Does he want me to answer Brent’s question?

  Shit.

  “We’re working on it,” Duane simply states.

  My head whips away and my heart stops. We’re working on it? Does that mean he wants to be with me?

  I’m a million miles away, thinking about holding him. In my mind, we’re walking hand-in-hand downtown in Nashville, sharing our first kiss, telling each other how much we feel for one another—

  “She’s a special one. Don’t ever forget that,” Brent speaks up, breaking my thoughts.

  My eyes find Brent’s and he winks. Sliding my eyes toward Duane again, I find his eyebrows knitted, giving Brent a quizzical look. Confused by their reactions, I look down at my tea, suddenly feeling unusually shy. My tea pulls me from my feelings, making me pay attention to anything but the stares Duane and Brent are exchanging. The ice cubes float at the top, and never fall toward the bottom…

  “Ann?” Brent pulls me from my now absurd inner thoughts.

  “Yeah?” I snap my head up.

  Duane laughs and I turn to him. He is so damn beautiful. It’s so taboo to say that about a man, but good God, he’s beautiful. His eyes are green today. It must be the contrast between the white shirt and blue sweater, but his eyes come alive when he wears dark colors. They have a way of working their way through the concrete barriers I’ve built. I have no idea how he does that. He sees the struggle in me as I fight to keep my head above water. He somehow knows me like no one else. In the small amount of time we’ve known each other, he’s found a way to make the horrendous and terrifying seem not so bad. He’s the calm in my life of chaos. He can quiet the nagging voice in my brain that’s screaming at me to run the opposite way—that’s telling me Kyle still has my heart.

  But he doesn’t anymore.

  Brent coughs and I shake my head. I need to stop tuning him out and get back to reality.

  “I’m sorry. I’m here.” I laugh. “I didn’t mean to tune you out. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  Brent pulls at the collar on his polo. “I know, and I’m sorry I’ve added to it, but I really think I can help.”

  I sit up straight to focus on him. “So, what do you have in mind?”

  It’s time for us to get this shit out in the open and get it over with.

  Putting his elbows on the table, he leans forward and lowers his voice. “Do you have any idea what my dad was talking about when he was worried about the question marks?”

  My mind reels. Dad always had crazy amounts of question marks spread around the house. I never thought it was weird because his company logo was a question mark, but now that I think about it, it was a bit excessive. Pictures, statues, hell, he even had question mark USB’s.

  Wait! His USB’s were scattered everywhere in his house. Maybe they can give us some answers.

  Reality sets in. Shit.

  “Dammit, I really don’t want to do this, but I might have to go back to that house.”

  Duane gives me a puzzled look. “What house? Your dad’s?”

  I nod and grab my cup, lifting it to my lips. “Yeah.”

  Brent sits back and rubs his forehead. “You really want to do that, Ann?”

  Hell no, but I don’t think I have a choice.

  I put on a brave face. “I think it’s the only option I have right now. Dad said the same thing to me.”

  I realize my mistake the moment the words slip out of my mouth. There’s a very good possibility they are going to think I’m out of my mind.

  Both men look at me with skeptical looks, but Duane is the one to speak. “What do you mean your dad said the same thing?”

  I take a big breath and decide to come out with it to tell them the truth—even if it means I sound like a complete nut case.

  “I’ve been having nightmares since Dad died. Every dream is different, but for the past week Dad has been talking to me.”

  Duane gulps. “Saying what?”

  “That I need to find the answers in the questions. I thought it was just my mind’s subconscious making things up, but hearing what your dad said,” I look at Brent. “Maybe there’s something there.”

  Brent looks down at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get going. Dad has a TV appearance in thirty minutes and I have to be there.”

  I stand with him as he begins to leave his chair.

  “Call me, okay?” I urge. I don’t feel right saying goodbye to him just yet. I haven’t seen him in almost fifteen years.

  Twenty minutes wasn’t nearly long enough to catch up on the years we’ve missed.

  “I will. Can we get together while you’re here? How long are you in town?”

  Duane shrugs his shoulder and looks at me. “As long as we need to be.”

  Brent smiles at Duane, coming off rather brotherly. That is, the way I imagine one would look at a potential boyfriend if I had one.

  “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Ann. And it was good to see you again, Duane.” Brent angles toward Duane.

  “Yeah, man, you too,” Duane returns, more at ease than he was at their greeting just a conversation ago.

  They shake hands, and I give him a hug. With one last smile, he’s off.

  I take a deep breath and center myself.

  “Why don’t we go back to Jason’s for the day and start fresh tomorrow? You’ve already had a difficult day. You need to relax, hang out and clear your mind, then we can go to your dad’s tomorrow.”

  My mood instantly shifts. “You’ll go with me?” Knowing he won’t let me go alone makes my heart soar.

  Duane slightly shakes his head. “Do you really think I’d let you go alone? Red, Darlin, I’m in this for the long haul. I’m not going anywhere.”

  His assurance changes something in him. I feel something big coming. The anticipation brings so many emotions, and I can’t help but let a smile light up my face.

  I’m swooning, probably stupidly smiling and thinking about my reply when he brings his mouth to mine and kisses me. It’s—sweet. Perfect. And our first. His soft, inviting lips mold to mine perfectly, his tongue gently swiping at my bottom lip. I hum in pleasure, producing a smile from Duane.

  Good God, is this how it’ll always be kissing him?

  He breaks the kiss and looks down at our joined hands. I don’t remember lacing our fingers together.

  “Let’s get going, yeah?” He suggests.

  I’m still a little lightheaded from the kiss, but I somehow manage to nod and walk to the car. He opens the door for me and I slide inside, attempting to wipe the smile off of my face. It doesn’t work. When Duane falls into his seat, he’s smiling just as big as I am.

  “We need to talk,” he says.

  Yeah, there it is. Bubble burst. The brush off. The ‘oops, I didn’t mean to kiss you, let’s just be friends’ speech. Dammit. I suck.

  I start to open my mouth to beat him to the punch, but he speaks before me.

  “I want to be with you, Ann.”

  Whoa, I was not expecting that. I look at him. “You do?”

  He starts the car and pulls into traffic. “I hoped that kiss made my intentions pretty clear.”

  I beam. “It did. I just—Duane…” I look over at him earnestly. “I come with a lot of baggage. There are things you don’t know about my past.”

  I feel the need to warn him. I’m damaged.

  “When you’re ready, you’ll tell me. There is nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, that will change how I feel for you,” he says, unyielding.

  I really hope that’s true. He doesn’t know about Kyle, or the day of graduation.

  I’m getting an opportunity to be with a remarkable man—one who I can’t help but think about. He’s the man who could change my future. I scold myself. I need to be open. I need to find a way to let him in. I need to get over my shit, and be in the now, not in the past.

  “I’ll tell you. I promise.
Just when the time is right, okay? There’s so much going on here and I just need you like this for now. Is that okay?” I feel selfish and needy, but it feels nice for once.

  We pull into Jason’s long driveway, and Duane looks to me. “Of course that’s okay. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I’m confused. Why the sudden change of heart? Before, he second-guessed himself, pulling back from every glimpse of passion.

  “Duane, what changed?” I have to quiet my all-too-familiar, overthinking mind.

  He turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, then mine. “What do you mean?”

  I bite my bottom lip, trying to find the right words. “Well, we’ve had some pretty intense moments since we’ve met.” I look over at him and he nods his head. “But, we obviously couldn’t act on it because you’re my lawyer. So what changed? Why did you decide we could be together?”

  “Want to talk inside?” He offers. “A rental car is certainly no place to have a serious conversation.”

  I look to the house. It seems quiet, but Jason could be in the backyard, not making any noise. It’s best to go inside and hash it out. Plus, it’s the middle of the day and it’s hot. Damn Arizona summers. “Sure, we can go talk in my room.”

  Out of habit, I reach for the door handle and Duane growls.

  Growls! Is he real?

  “Don’t touch that door handle. I’ll bite your hand,” he threatens.

  I am half tempted to touch it just to get him to bite my hand, but the logical part of my brain tells me to keep where I am.

  He gets out and saunters to my door. He opens it, once again offering his hand, and we walk toward Jason’s house. When we step through the door, it’s suspiciously silent.

  Weird.

  With our hands still entwined, we walk to the kitchen.

  “Holy shit, this place is even bigger than I thought,” Duane says when he steps into the kitchen.

  I laugh. “I know.”

  We are all alone, but I find a note on the island with my name on it.

  “Well, he had to go to the theater for a while, so we have the house to ourselves. You want something to drink? Are you hungry?” I ask.

  I’m starving. It’s now well past two and I haven’t eaten since the feast Jason made this morning.

  “I’ll take whatever you’re having and I can make some sandwiches for us,” Duane says as he strips his sweater and tie off.

  Good God.

  His white button-up shirt is now untucked from his jeans, and he unbuttons the first three buttons at the top. My mouth goes dry. His tan, muscular chest peeks, out and I’m having a hard time breathing.

  Air, get into my lungs! Make it happen before I pass out!

  “Red, you okay?” Duane asks with genuine concern.

  Air whooshes into my chest. “Yes, I’m fine, dammit. Close your freaking shirt, I can’t think when I can see most of your chest.”

  “You like my chest, Red?” Duane jokes while walking over to me.

  I step back. “Uh, uh, get back. If you get any closer, I just might faint and we don’t need an ER visit to top off this trip.”

  Duane grabs his stomach as he sputters. “You are too damn much.”

  I give him a stern look. “Seriously, my woman mind can’t handle your sexiness.”

  Dammit, did I just say that out loud?

  “I happen to like your mind. A lot. You know, you seem to have a dirty mind, woman. I love it.”

  I can’t help myself. I walk toward him, and grab the opening of his shirt, giving another button a pop.

  “Yeah, well, you’re standing here, in front of me, looking like that. I can’t help where my mind goes.”

  Seriously. I can’t. The nickname given to him in the bar only a few nights ago is spot-on.

  “Well, don’t let me get in the way.” He grabs my waist.

  I roll my eyes and playfully smack his chest. It’s hard as stone—stone, I tell you. Damn him.

  No! Back up, Ann. You have way too much crap to deal with before you can dive into this kind of relationship with him.

  I kiss him on the cheek and turn for the wine cellar.

  You know, because that’s exactly what I need—alcohol.

  Note to self: don’t drink more than one glass every hour because you’ll be sloshed and make a fool of yourself.

  When I close the cellar door and return to the kitchen, Duane has already found the ingredients to make our sandwiches. I can’t help but watch him move so easily around the kitchen, making himself at home, like he was somehow meant to be here, in this moment, with me.

  There are moments, like this, when I look back at my life and realize I wasn’t really living. Before Duane, my life was—boring. I was living day-to-day; never really experiencing the good things life has to offer.

  “You want mustard, Darlin’?” Duane asks while hovering over my sandwich with the yellow bottle.

  “Yes, please.” I pop a chip into my mouth and admire his work.

  He squirts the yellow condiment on my bread and spreads it around, being very careful to make it even.

  Once he’s finished, he licks his fingers, and hands me a plate.

  “Want to eat in here or do you want to hang out in the living room? We could turn on the TV.”

  I offer TV because, like any red-blooded man, he’s got to love TV, right?

  He takes a sip of wine. “This is great wine. And no, here is fine. I don’t watch much TV.”

  “Really?” I ask, shocked. “Not even sports?”

  He picks up his sandwich and takes a bite. After he swallows, he shakes his head. “Not really. I don’t have much time for TV. I mean, I guess I’ll watch if it’s on, but most days my flat screen goes to waste.”

  “I’m the same way. I’d much rather read.”

  He smiles. “Is that why you have so many books in your house and in the shop?”

  “Yeah, I love reading. It’s been an escape since I was a teenager.” A pang of homesickness settles in my belly and I frown. I miss my home.

  With his eyebrows knitted together, he quirks his head to the side and asks, “Did you have a bad childhood, Red?”

  I think back to my life before my parents’ divorce. I had a pretty normal life considering the issues my family had.

  “My childhood was okay, but once I turned fourteen, life got a bit stressful. My parents never talked about it, but something happened. They fought for most of my high school years. Constantly. Everything pissed my mom off. Most nights I’d sleep in the barn with my horse Skip to get away from all of the yelling. You remember me talking about him the other day?” I ask.

  “Sure, you first rode him when you were three.”

  “Good memory.” I pass the focus to him. “What about you?”

  He sets his sandwich down, and huffs. “It wasn’t the best. I worked most of it. Living on a working ranch doesn’t give much time to be a child. So, I had to grow up. Then my parents passed away when I was a teenager. Aiden had a really hard time dealing with their passing.”

  Lifting my legs, I set mine on his and Duane begins to massage my calves and upper thighs. “I can’t even begin to think about all that you went through, Cowboy.”

  I imagine a younger version of Duane. Silly and full of life, like his big brother.

  “He’s a really good brother. Had to grow up too quickly if you ask me, but he’s a strong kid—man, I mean. He just turned twenty-one a few months ago, so now he’s living it up.”

  I smirk at him. “Fast cars and fast women?”

  He laughs and looks at his empty plate. “Yeah, something like that.”

  Taking my legs away from Duane’s lap, I get up and clean our plates to busy my hands. I have an overwhelming urge to ask him about our situation. We never finished our conversation in the car, and I’m sure as hell not one to keep my feelings quiet when it comes to relationships. I’m just a little out of practice.

  “So, how is this going to work? Us?”


  He clasps his hands together on the island, thinking. “It’s a bit tricky, but we have to make it work.”

  He stands and steps up behind me. With a bit of edge in his demeanor, he grips the countertop.

  “I can’t ignore how I feel anymore.”

  I set the soapy sponge down and turn into his chest.

  He’s yet to button those damn buttons.

  I look up to his face—his damn god-like body is very distracting, not that his face is any less befuddling. Maybe I should look over his shoulder.

  “And how do you feel?” I ask coyly.

  “Are you fishing, Red?” He says with a smirk. His eyes sparkle a bit, letting me know he’s playing my game.

  I grab his collar and bring him closer to my body. We’re millimeters from touching and the anticipation is killing me, but I have to hear what he has to say.

  “Hmm, let me find the correct words.” He scrunches his forehead. “I’m spellbound.”

  I crack a smile. “Spellbound? What the hell does that even mean?”

  He brings his face to my neck, not touching but teasing, and I desperately want to bring my body to his. I just want to feel his skin.

  Maybe if I take a step forward—.

  “The moment you stepped out onto that stage,” he states as he eludes my movement and fakes me out, “I knew I had to know you.” He returns to his position, hovering inches from me. “You were incredibly captivating. Not to mention, the moment you touched me set me on fire.”

  He brings his forehead to mine, and we look into each other’s eyes. The memory of our first encounter makes me blush. Should I tell him I saw him way before I walked onto that stage, and that the parking lot wasn’t the first time I touched him?

  “God, this is embarrassing.”

  He caresses my nose with his. “What’s that?”

  I step back as far as I can against the counter and hide my face in my hands. “I probably shouldn’t tell you,” I say, muffled, laughing at myself. I’m ridiculous for even bringing it up.

  Duane grasps my arms and gently coaxes them away from my face. “Just tell me.”

  “I kind of saw you the moment you walked in that bar. I practically watched you all night.” I shake my head in embarrassment.