Wandering In Love

by Andi Jaxon

  “You’re mine,” he growls against my lips, making my heart skip a damn beat.

  I want it so badly. So damn badly.

  A knot forms in my throat, tears once again filling my eyes. “I’m not.”

  It’s so quiet in here, I’m sure the entire bar heard the whispered words. I didn’t want this. Didn’t want to do this in front of everyone in town. Tomorrow, there will be buzz in the air as everyone talks about this very second. My back against Will’s chest, Ian gripping my neck so hard I’ll have bruises.

  Ian’s eyes dart back and forth between mine, looking for a lie. For anything that will ease the pain I know is crushing his chest.

  Just as quickly as he grabbed me, he spins away and stomps from the bar.

  My feet are glued to the floor. Everyone is watching to see what happens next. Where’s a damn rainstorm when I need one? Where are my wildflowers to get lost in?

  Will’s hand grips my shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you home.”

  The bolder on my chest is so heavy. I can’t breathe past it. I’m about to crack and spill every one of my secrets. All I can do is nod, my lower lip trembling as I try my hardest not to cry.

  Damn him. Damn Ian Rojas.

  The entire drive, I’m sniffling, wiping the tears off my cheeks as they slide from my lashes. Traitorous bastards. Being home is healing in so many ways, but it hurts too.

  We end up at Will’s place, a small cabin on the property his parents own. There’s plenty of room at the main house for him, but he wanted his own space. I can’t blame him there. I’ve only been home a little while, and I’m itching for my own space.

  “So, you and Ian have slept together since you got back, right?” Will brings me a beer and drops down on his warm leather couch next to me.

  I sigh and take a drink from my beer. “Yeah.”

  My head flashes to that first night. His voice carried through the rain, and the second my eyes met his, I was a goner. When he touched me, when he took me, my soul was awakened once again. He’s the only man to ever touch that part of me. Frankly, it scares me. I want him so badly it physically hurts, but he deserves so much more than what I can give him.

  “What’s your plan?” Will’s question pulls me out of my head.

  “For what?”

  “For Ian. You obviously want to be with him. What’s the play here?” He takes a deep pull from his beer.

  Dropping my gaze, I pick at the label on my bottle. My plan?

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Do you want to be with him?”

  My shoulders drop, the pressure on my chest returning. “More than anything.”

  “Then why are you still running?”

  With tears blurring my vision and my bottom lip trembling, I speak the words I’ve never said out loud. “He deserves better than me.”

  Will doesn’t say anything for minute. He just holds my gaze.

  “If you really believe that, you’re an idiot.” He sets his bottle down and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “Since you left, he’s become a robot. He does the same thing every day at the same time. Nothing ever changes. He’s dated a few women, but he’s never looked at any of them like does you.

  “Since you got back, I’ve seen more emotion from him than I’ve seen in the last ten years. He needs you. You are everything to him. You always were. The only thing standing in your way is you.”

  Will gets up, taking his bottle into the kitchen. His words replay in my head.

  He needs me?

  No. I need him. He’s my anchor when life gets rough, but I make him crazy.

  “If that’s true, then why did you kiss me? Why do you keep flirting with me?” I stand to face him, needing something to do besides sit here and sulk.

  He shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I like to rile him up. He’s always Mr. Perfect, and when I get the chance to ruffle his feathers, I take it.”

  “I’m not a game, William.”

  He straightens up, walking toward me and placing his hands on my shoulders. “I know you’re not. Why do I flirt with you? ‘Cause I’m a shameless flirt. And maybe I’m a bit jealous of the relationship you guys always had.”

  Will drops a kiss on my forehead and wraps his arms around my shoulders in a hug. I take the offered comfort. I need it tonight.

  “Talk to Ian. Lay it all out on the table and let him decide. I guarantee he’ll still want you.”

  I nod against his chest. I have to do something. Living in the same town means we will have to find a way to live with the other around. If we can’t, I’ll have to leave again.

  Chapter Nine

  IAN

  She left with Will.

  Upset.

  His arm around her.

  I want to pummel his goddamn face. What part of she’s mine is he not understanding? She can deny it all she wants, but it doesn’t make it any less true. Everyone in the damn town has known it since we were kids. Her leaving for a decade hasn’t changed that. She’s the only one who seems unclear on this.

  I’m sitting in the sheriff’s vehicle, watching drunks come out of the bar and stumble home. I haven’t had to arrest anyone yet, so it’s a good night. More weekends than not, my two cells become drunk tanks, one for men and one for women.

  Nothing has gone right since Eva came back. My schedule is off. I can’t sleep. I’m snapping at everyone, getting into fights with my brother. It’s like I’m a damn teenager again and can’t control myself. I’m thirty, for fuck’s sake. I’m waiting for Momma to come after me with a wooden spoon and beat some sense into my ass. At this point, I wouldn’t blame her.

  The night’s almost over, so I turn off the engine and head inside to do a head count. The two deputies I have working for me have been taxiing people home all night, leaving me to watch the parking lot and pull drunks from behind the wheel.

  Inside, it’s just about empty. Only a few stragglers left.

  “Evening, Tommy.” I nod to the bartender.

  “Evening, Ian.” He nods back.

  I don’t try to correct him. He’s old enough to be my grandfather, and at this point, I’m just tired.

  “Anyone need a ride home?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head. I turn to head back to my car and stop short when a woman I’ve only seen a handful of times is standing behind me.

  Dressed in a ripped jeans and big white puffy jacket with fake brown fur around the hood, there’s something about her that’s always drawn my attention. I’m almost afraid to look away, like she’ll disappear. Misty Walker. She lives outside of town. Rarely leaves her property. People around here call her a witch doctor.

  She looks me over from head to foot, stopping at the badge on my jacket, but not pausing anywhere else until her eyes meet mine. She pushes her hood back, and the palest blonde hair I’ve ever seen is exposed. Tight curls make her hair stand up around her head, but her purple eyes are the most intense thing about her. I’ve never seen eyes like that on anyone else.

  Eyes that can see into your soul.

  “She’s hurting too.” Her voice catches me off-guard. It’s raspy, like she’s been smoking a pack a day for twenty years, but she doesn’t even look twenty.

  “What?”

  “She’s scared.”

  What the hell is she talking about?

  “Who?” My pulse picks up, ready to jump into action to help someone in need.

  Misty cocks her head. “The woman you ache for.”

  The few people left in the bar have stopped talking to see what’s going on. You could hear a damn pin drop in here.

  “If you don’t convince her to be yours, you’ll lose her forever.”

  Every muscle in my body tenses. How can she know anything about me?

  “How do you know that?”

  She smiles softly. “The stars never lie.”

  Lifting her hood, she leaves the building.

  What the fuck was that?

  For a minute
, I can’t move. I stand with my feet stuck to the hardwood floor, staring at the space the strange woman was just in. Did that just happen? Was she real?

  When I turn toward the bar, everyone is staring at me.

  “She was real. Right? You all saw her?”

  Tommy’s forehead crinkles as his eyebrows pull together. “Yeah, she was there. You feelin’ alright?”

  My thoughts are going too fast to be able to focus on anyone.

  You will lose her forever.

  Shaking my head, I shove the door open and leave the bar. The bitter cold bites at my face. I pull open the door of the truck harder than necessary; a purple wildflower sits on the center console.

  Immediately, I look around for the woman, but I don’t see any evidence of her. Not a car or shadow. Nothing. It’s like she vanished.

  Climbing behind the wheel, I get the engine going and back out of the parking lot. I normally just head home and crash in my apartment above the station after the bar closes, but something tells me to check the streets. My gut has never led me wrong before.

  I make two passes through the streets and find nothing, but I can’t shake the feeling of something being off. My fingers itch to touch Eva, to climb into bed next to her and pull her against me.

  Getting out of my uniform and Kevlar vest, I lock up my weapon and check for anything out of place.

  I live a simple life. I don’t collect things. Everything has a spot, and nothing is out of place. Left with nothing else to do, I go to bed.

  Sleep claims me almost immediately, dreaming of my wildflower and the life we could have together. Laughter and arguments. Loving hard.

  When I wake the next morning, the sun is already up, which means I slept in for the first time in probably fifteen years. Sitting up, I scrub a hand down my face and swing my feet over the edge.

  My dick is hard as rock and aching to sink into the lavender-haired woman who’s throwing everything off kilter. Heading to the bathroom, I strip my clothes off, take care of business and turn the shower on. There’s no way this is going away on its own.

  I’m about to step into the shower when there’s a knock on my door. Son of a bitch.

  Grabbing a towel, I wrap it around my waist and adjust my dick so it’s not as obvious. Stomping toward the door, I rip it open, not bothering to ask who’s there.

  Standing on my doorstep is the woman I dreamt of in the flesh.

  “Oh, this is a bad time. I’m sorry.” She flushes and turns to leave.

  With quick reflexes, I grab her arm and pull her inside, closing the door behind her to lean her against it.

  Her chest flushes, the red blush climbing her neck to color her cheeks. The increase in her breathing pushes those tempting tits against my chest. I lean my palms against the door, bringing her close enough to inhale her shampoo. Something sweet with lavender and honey. It’s exactly how I picture her smelling. Fucking perfect.

  “What brings you by, Wildflower?”

  She swallows, her throat working hard. “I…um…I don’t—”

  She closes her eyes; her tongue peeks out to drag across her bottom lip. I groan deep in my chest at the sight. The memory of how good that tongue feels on my skin turns my cock to steel against her stomach. I don’t try to hide it from her. Instead, I push it against her.

  Fuck.

  I need her.

  “Ian.” The needy whimper in her voice as she says my name is more than I can take.

  “Give me that mouth.”

  Lowering my head, I give her time to tell me no or turn away before my lips take hers. Nipping at the plump flesh of her lower lip, pulling it between my teeth and sucking on it. My mouth plays with hers, exploring her, getting to know what she likes again.

  I press a kiss to her lips then back off, over and over, driving myself insane until she can’t take it anymore and wraps her arms around my neck. Lifting her up, my hands grip her ass as she wraps her legs around my waist. Using my hold on her, I grind the heat between her thighs against my dick. She whimpers into my kiss, her hands threading through my hair for something to hold onto.

  Walking the few feet into my bedroom, I drop her onto my bed. My lips travel up her jaw, suck on the flesh of her earlobe, then down her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin, leaving evidence behind. My beard is rough against the sensitive flesh of her throat, perfect imprints of my teeth.

  Using her legs for leverage, she lifts her hips to grind against me, sending fireworks exploding behind my eyes. My eyes close and I groan into her skin. I want to bathe in her, roll her around my sheets so they smell like her.

  I reach for her t-shirt, but she grabs my wrist to stop me. My gaze meets her.

  “Wait.”

  “No.” The word is more a growl than anything else.

  “Ian,” she moans when my hand caresses her stomach. “We need to talk.”

  “Later.” Sitting up, I reach for her pants and pull them down her legs to drop on the floor.

  The dark blue lace of her panties taunts me with its peak-a-boo look at what I crave. Gripping the center of her underwear, I jerk the fabric until it rips. She gasps, but her objection turns into a guttural moan when my tongue sweeps up her pussy. Her flavor explodes in my mouth, sweet and musky. Like a starved man, I devour every inch of her, licking her lips, lapping up her juices, sucking on her clit. Two fingers slide inside her easily. She’s soaked for me, ready for whatever I want to give her. With a come-hither motion of my fingers and my lips around her clit, her back bows off the bed and she comes with a strangled moan. Her hand rips at my hair and her hips ride my face. I watch her every move, wanting more.

  “No one touches this pussy but me.” I sink my teeth into her inner thigh, leaving my mark on her skin.

  Wiping my mouth off, I pull the towel off my hips and sink home. Her pussy grips me tight, swollen with her orgasm, her muscles still fluttering. Desperate for the fall, I set a brutal pace, riding her hard, leaving bruises on her hips, my body snapping against hers as I chase the high only her body can give me.

  “You’re fucking mine, Wildflower. Mine.”

  Her back arches off the mattress again, her hands gripping my blankets and her head thrashing on the bed. A light sheen of sweat covers my body.

  Leaning forward, I wrap my hand around her throat. Her breathing turns to a wheeze, and my dick hardens at the sound, at the control I have over her.

  As I reach for her, her fingers wrap around my wrist.

  Using my hold on her, I roll us so she’s riding me. Her palms flatten against my chest as she catches herself. Pulling her lips to mine, I claim her mouth as my cock claims her pussy. I thrust up into her, my thumb circling her clit until she’s squeezing me in a vise grip.

  “Please,” she rasps, her eyes on mine.

  “Give it to me.”

  Just as her orgasm peaks, I release her throat, and she screams, my name falling from her lips while my hips buck into her. A tingle starts at my lower back and quickly consumes me, filling her pussy with my seed. She falls forward on my chest, boneless.

  I’m breathing hard, coated in sweat and contentment. This is the way I should start every day. My eyes close and I toss an arm over Eva’s back while we recover.

  “Shit.”

  I sigh, knowing she’s about to fight me. She came here for a reason, and a booty call wasn’t it.

  Eva pushes against my chest and climbs off. My now half-soft dick slaps against my stomach as she grabs her clothes and finds the bathroom.

  Shit. Is she on birth control?

  I scrub a hand down my face and sit up. Opening a dresser drawer, I find a pair of pajama pants and slide them on. I have a feeling this isn’t a “naked” conversation.

  Knowing she’s going to come out of the bathroom swinging, I head to the kitchen to make coffee. She’s obviously been awake for a while and can think clearly. I need to catch up.

  I’m pouring coffee into my mug when she stomps in.

  “God damn it, Ian!” she h
ollers, her hand on her hip and chest heaving.

  “Morning, Wildflower.” I lean back against the counter, taking a drink and wincing when I burn my tongue.

  “Don’t you Wildflower me.”

  Setting the mug on the counter, I crowd her against the wall, leaning into her space.

  “You’re my wildflower whether you want to admit it or not.”

  The pulse in her neck jumps.

  “You’re mine.”

  Her eyes meet mine, those grass-green orbs sucking me in. “I’m not. I haven’t been in a long time.”

  “It doesn’t matter where you go. You’ll always be mine.”

  She shakes her head, but holds back whatever she was going to say.

  “Why did you use my last name?”

  She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I told you. I didn’t trust him with my real name.”

  “I think it’s because you knew you were mine. You were meant to be mine. You want to be mine.”

  A tear falls down her cheek, and I brush it away with my thumb.

  “Please don’t.” Her watery eyes meet mine. “You don’t know what you’re asking me.”

  My palms cup her cheeks, my forehead leaning against hers.

  “I do know. Having you here and not being mine is killing me. There’s no one else for me. There never was.”

  “You don’t understand,” she weeps, tears now falling faster than I can wipe them away. “I can’t be what you need.”

  A sob claims her, shaking her entire body. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her into my chest. This woman is crazy if she thinks there is anything that will stop me from needing her.

  Like the storm that brought her home, she rushes from my apartment.

  Why is she always running from me? What is it about me that makes it so damn easy for her to leave?

  I don’t chase her. Not this time. Whatever is going on in her head, she isn’t ready to share it yet. She needs to work it out herself before she’ll tell me.

  Needing a distraction, I get dressed without taking a shower first. Her scent still on my skin calms me just enough to keep me from pummeling my brother’s face.

  Hopping in my truck, I head out to the ranch. There’s always something to do out there. I cruise the streets without needing to think about which way to go. I’ve driven this path so many times, my muscles know the way by heart. As I pass a few places, people wave, and I lift a hand back.