Rescued (A McKenzie Ridge Novel Book 1)

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  She wanted to squeeze his ass, and a few other things, how he didn’t burn a smoldering hole through the seat of his pants was beyond her. Speaking of ass and thighs, he would fit well between her own thighs. What on earth was she doing, fantasizing in the middle of a busy family friendly park, holding Mr. Hot Pants’ hand while picturing him between her thighs. She needed to get a grip, or a really cold glass of ice water to dump in her lap. There was more to Dawson. Sure he made her tingle everywhere, but he gave her sweet butterflies too.

  Dawson wasn’t a commitment guy. The only commitment he made was to keep his late night callers private. He hadn’t had any late night company since that first morning at Baker’s with Sam. He was a virile man with manly needs, but just couldn’t seem to find interest anywhere but with Sam. It felt wrong to even consider a midnight romp with anyone else, like he was betraying something between them. This was new territory for him, territory he vowed to never explore again, a decade ago. Your heart can’t break if it isn’t invested anywhere, but somehow his heart had forgotten all the rules, so he made a temporary deal with himself to just live in the moment…to see where this goes.

  He wanted more from her, to know her, not just her body, but her, to figure her out. Where did that sass and hard exterior come from, what happened to her to make her so invigorating, yet guarded? He didn’t understand his new desire that was Sam, she was a menace with his emotions. He liked who he was around her, she drudged up old feelings and new ones he didn’t yet understand, he enjoyed how easy she was to be around.

  Conversations were easy and she wasn’t impressed by all that charm he laid on, she didn’t buy it for a second, which he liked, he could just be him; she wanted nothing more or less. She was starting to find him just as interesting, as he found her, he thought. She actually invited him to lunch today, and it was Sam that had determined their mornings at Baker’s were a regular thing rather than occasional, only if there’s time. The more he got from her, the more he wanted, and the more he looked forward to having.

  A date. He was going to do it, the unthinkable, he was going to ask her on a real date. Not a cup of coffee and apple fritter with half the town, or corn dogs in the park with the squirrels, where they would talk about a mysterious horse hobby, but a real date. Dawson was consistent with his convictions, but this felt right, even if it did break all of his rules, and he was willing to continue bending those rules to get more of her.

  ***

  They approached her car when he turned her around so she was facing him, both arms on either side of her, so close he could smell the sugary sweetness of cream on her breath, which had been left by her dessert. So many times they had found themselves in close proximity, within total make out in front of everyone range, but one of them always pulled back. They were now hand holding friends, but they certainly weren’t kissing friends. Until now, as far as he was concerned, today he was changing that rule too.

  Trapped between two enormous biceps, wedged between her car and rock hard abs, with the deepest, wicked, green eyes locked on hers, she began to sweat. Panic set in, this was too intimate, and way too public. She was surrounded by his massiveness and felt safe in his almost embrace. This man was overwhelming in every good sense of the word. Her faith in what was coming next, outweighed her fear and she stared back, inviting his next move.

  She was overwhelmed by the scent that would forever be burned to her memory as Dawson—spicy, yet earthy, masculine, but sexy and entirely way too hot. Unable to look anywhere but his eyes, she read his every thought as his eyes darkened and desire was the only thing readable. Anxiety was replaced by dirty thoughts of pressing her chest up against his, tempting him, seeing what his response would be, and exploring that cocky mouth of his that held a scandalous grin. Shocked by her own thoughts, she blushed as he laughed, as if he knew what obscene thoughts were going through her sinful mind.

  Assuming he knew what mischief was dancing around in that beautiful head of hers, without even asking the question, Dawson took her response to his proximity as a yes, and kissed her. Long, deep, and hard. Her lips were soft, her mouth hot, he could do this forever. She softened and leaned into him, hands straight to the back of his head, oh yeah, he had read her just right, she was into him, and completely into this kiss. Where red flags and alarms would be going off once upon a time, all he heard now was angels singing, hallelujah.

  One arm dropped as his large hand found her waist, paused slightly, before moving south and resting his palm on her ass, pulling her closer so she could feel exactly what she was doing to him. She was overwhelmed with sensations she couldn’t remember ever feeling. She was warm head to toe and her body was buzzing, but more so than that, her heart was dancing. Jesus he was good at this, and probably better at the other things that were racing through her head right now. Crap! What was she doing, they were in the middle of a parking lot, giving a really hot show to anyone interested! She would wave a ‘you’re welcome’ to the fan club when they were done.

  She reluctantly broke the kiss and slowly pulled back from the pleasure he gave her, and comfort she felt in his arms.

  “So is that a yes?” He asked, still holding her close, with his forehead to hers.

  “Is what a yes?” She questioned, confused, not sure where her legs went or how she was still standing.

  “Tomorrow night, seven o’clock, I’ll pick you up,” he said, standing tall, hands around her waist. She wasn’t getting out of here until she gave him the answer he wanted.

  “Is that what that was? You, asking me out? Wow, things really have changed!” She replied giving him a puzzled look, clearly stalling as the tug of war between her heart and mind ensued.

  “No, that was a kiss, a really eff’ing great kiss,” he declared, before his confidence softened and his tone changed to soft and sweet, and perhaps a little insecure, afraid of receiving the wrong answer. “This is me asking you out…do you want to go out tomorrow night? We’re both off, it’s like fate or something.” He was really selling this, calling on fate for help, he sincerely wanted a date with this woman.

  “But…we don’t date.” She was still stalling, wanting desperately to say yes, but lacking the courage. Every instinct in her body said absolutely not, but somewhere deep down in the depths of her soul, she was screaming hell yes.

  “I know we don’t. If you would rather stick to fritters at Baker’s, we can do that too, it’s just not as fun.” He lightened the mood adding a little silliness, sensing how serious this had become for her, hoping to make this an easier answer.

  “I love fritters… “

  He kissed her again, interrupting her protest, but this time it was soft, and sweet, the kind of kiss you savored because it brought you total bliss and lead to panty melting ecstasy. With her hands at his waist, she couldn’t help but explore the hills and valleys of his insanely chiseled physique. His body should be illegal, it was that good, and she wanted a front row seat to more of him. He was right, this kissing was really eff’ing good.

  He slowly pulled away giving her a seductive half grin and a knowing wink. He walked away leaving her standing there doe-eyed and shocked, touching the lips he had just pleasured. He gave himself an imaginary high-five and double pat on the back, mission accomplished.

  “Yes.”

  He tossed his gorgeous head back and let out the sexiest, throaty laugh she had ever heard.

  CHAPTER 4

  Sam drove home in a daze. It was a quick ten-minute drive anywhere in a town that size, but today she couldn’t tell you if it was ten minutes, where she lived, or even what her name was. Dawson’s soft full lips harassed her thoughts the entire drive, provoking lust filled ideas that excited her and made her anxious, provoking every emotion in between.

  Sam lived just outside of town, on the east side, the hospital stood on the west side. Being a tourist destination, summer months proved to be a bit more of a commute, for such a small town. Rustic and charming, Main Street was just over a mile long, peppe
red with boutiques, coffee shops, restaurants, florists, and a variety of other shops on both sides of the lengthy stretch of road and it was the epicenter of tourist season. During high season, which was most of the year, Main Street could get pretty congested with foot traffic and tourists venturing through.

  The rodeo was in town, which provided even more delays. Their little town was busy! Sam took a country back road that ran along the south side of town, to avoid the delays. It was desolate, sprinkled with a few ranches and cabins, and an incredible view of the mountains off in the distance. It was a nice drive, peaceful, and always reminded her why she loved living in McKenzie Ridge. She enjoyed the drive and it was short, but it allowed her some quiet time to get lost in her thoughts.

  Replaying the day’s events, she was stunned by his kiss, but more so by her reaction to it and desire for more of what he had to offer. He was purely intoxicating, like a drug, she decided, something one could become vastly addicted to and that she needed a lot more of. She could still smell him, feel him, taste him. This was a dangerous venture, sure to be loaded with equal parts pleasure and disappointment, but for the first time in years she didn’t care.

  It was just too easy to get lost in Dawson Tayler and she didn’t know why, he was just another man, or was he. She had been a very successful hard ass where men were concerned, for the last four plus years. Why was her libido coming out of hibernation now, and full throttle, for a man that was more dangerous than matches and gasoline? This was purely physical. She just needed to satisfy that long overdue need, and this desire for Dawson would fade. Right?

  She originally had pegged him as the love them and leave them type. Dawson was never in the company of another woman, ever, but a man like that doesn’t sleep in a cold bed. She was sure his bed was plenty warm anytime he needed his itches scratched, and plenty of women lining up willing to scratch it, as often as needed. Sam was tempted to let him love her a couple rounds, warm those sheets for him, then leave him. Two birds, one man—take care of her own itch and get out before it got too serious and he left her. Her heart was safe that way.

  There wasn’t room in her life for a man, but maybe some lovin’, some hot sweaty, grip the sheets and scream lovin’. That’s all she could offer a man. He couldn’t leave what he didn’t have, and her heart would stay intact. She knew there was a genuine side to Dawson, a caring, considerate type, a great friend. She valued that newly found friendship too, and didn’t want to lose that. Maybe this was more than a hormone-enraged bout of temporary psychosis. Maybe there was more to this man than her previous assumptions. She was completely at war with herself and what she wanted from this man. Was she really considering this on any level?

  She pulled into her driveway unsure how she managed to get there in one piece, lost in her arousing thoughts of Dawson the entire way. When she walked in, she paused as a shiver drifted over her, raising the hairs ever so slightly on the back of her neck. The door was unlocked. She lived in a small, safe, uneventful town, but even so, she was always cautious and locked up, even if she was home.

  Had she been so distracted and excited for her non-date lunch with Dawson that she didn’t lock her door? She also left the lights on? Hairs still on end and instinct scratching suggesting something was askew, she ultimately settled with the idea that she really needed to get her crap together and under control. Paranoid and forgetful were not characteristics she carried. She was becoming a distracted, sex-crazed loon over a man, and that just wasn’t Sam.

  This was the third time in so many weeks she had come home to find that she had left something out of order. First it was the sink running, who does that? Then she came home to find the TV had been left on in her room and in the living room, she didn’t even remember having either on! Now the lights and door unlocked? She found it as funny as she found it odd. She was acting like a love struck teenager, annoying as all get out.

  Maybe after her date she would find her senses again, remember why she didn’t date, and pull it together. One night it was all she needed to purge her system of Dawson’s all-consuming, smexy, presence in her world. There was a big difference between a date and dating; dating required commitments that were easily broken and eventually lead to disappointment, and a date is just what she needed to cleanse her pallet and satisfy a certain ache.

  ***

  She walked next door to see Granny Lou and Everly for their weekly round table. Although they tended to get together more often than that, as their lives over lapped in so many ways, especially being neighbors, they still carved out time to sit and enjoy each other uninterrupted, to catch up. These were the days they each looked forward to, getting together to devour Granny’s famous snicker doodles or brownies, a couple days a week; girl time was important.

  Evie still lived with her grandmother in the small guesthouse that rested behind the main house in the far corner of the property.

  One day she would find a place of her own, but for now this was still home, as it always had been. Her personal dwellings were quite small and simple, as the main house was modest in size. It was just the two of them. She had her privacy, so she wasn’t in a hurry to move on, and Lou loved having her granddaughter in close proximity.

  Sam had her own small home, finally, after years in Granny Lou’s house. Sam loved that woman. It was hard to leave, even if it was just next door, Granny was home to her. Her own mother couldn’t be bothered to be anything but a reminder that Sam didn’t hit the gene pool lottery.

  When Sam’s mother, mother used loosely, found a home for her daughter with Lou Shaw, she was quick to drop and run. Bette wasn’t one to plant roots anywhere, which meant Sam didn’t either, so finding McKenzie Ridge and a home she could ditch her daughter, made chasing her next husband become much easier, and Sam finally had stability in her life.

  Lou couldn’t stand the sights of Bette Morrison, didn’t trust that woman any more than a rabid raccoon in the middle of the afternoon, but Lou was a fair woman, believed in second chances, or in this case twenty or thirty—people could change. Lou loved Sam, so she was happy to take her in and raise her as her own, especially when Bette needed to ‘take a trip’ that she would never come back from.

  ***

  Evie was already in the sunroom sipping her coffee and eating cookies, eyeing Sam with a devilish grin, as she came into the room. Sam halted in the doorway completely aware of what was coming next, small town, news travels fast. Rolling her eyes, Sam threw her head back, cheeks blushed, and quickly turned to retreat and avoid entering the Evie’s web of questions. She was here to eat sweets, not get grilled.

  Fun, energetic, and kind spirited, Everly Shaw—jaws drop and heads turn when she’s around, her beautiful blonde hair, golden skin, and hazel eyes are like a ray of sunshine, pouring in. Tall, lean, toned in all the right places, she was hot, but she was choosing to live vicariously through Sam, rather than find love herself.

  Evie’s parents died when she was nine. They were killed in an accident while hiking. Evie was spared, but waited two days alone with her deceased parents in the woods, waiting for rescue. Something like that changes a person, as a child it either enlivens you or completely screws you up; Evie had traces of both. Her childhood rooted her desire to be a nurse, but with adventure. Stationed at the same hospital as Sam, in the town they were raised, Evie’s days were filled with the excitement of helicopters, with her life flight assignments, and rappelling down cliffs to save lives as Search and Rescue. She was a real thrill seeker.

  The appeal was adventure, but Sam and Granny Lou knew it was a distraction; Evie never talked about what happened to her family. Her family was Granny Lou, Sam, and the smallest lady of the house, little Ellie—they were her everything. That little girl changed all of their lives and softened the hardness that was Evie’s heart; but only as much as a 4-year-old could. The most unlikely pair, opposites in every way, Evie and Sam were true soul sisters. She and Gran helped Sam through the early days of that whirlwind known as Ellie Lou—
named after her and Gran in fact. Evie would do anything for the ladies in her life. Today, however, it was more about grilling Sam and enjoying every uncomfortable moment of embarrassment. This was going to be good.

  “Hold up sister, where do you think you’re going? Seems you have some steamy news to tell, my friend!” Everly said while rubbing her hands together like a sinister old maid; the sinister part was solidified by the deep throaty chuckle that accompanied the wiggling eyebrows.

  “Evie, please, you look like a starved piranha and it’s not a cute look on you,” Sam replied in hopes to shake the nagging dog off her scent. “I just want to stuff my face with some of those little bites of heaven over there or hide under a rock to avoid the nosey hen, lovingly known as you.”

  “Oh honey, you sit right here and stuff your face all you want while you explain that glow you’ve been carrying around. Something tells me it’s called Dawson Tayler?” Everly said in a sassy southern drawl while fanning herself and batting her lashes.

  “It’s called tired, and sweat, its hot outside,” Sam said in reference to this imaginary glow Everly was claiming. “And that something is called gossip. I swear this town is entirely too bored if my non-love life is the topic of town discussions.”

  Scooting her chair closer, Evie leaned in, elbows on the table, fully engrossed in Sam, letting it be known she was not leaving without the steamy details. “I would be sweating too if I was kissed so hard my lips swelled up like I just kissed the tail end of a wasp. This is going to be better than I thought…dish!”

  “Ugh. Fine. We went to lunch at the Pavilion, which you obviously already know. I had a hoagie…”

  “Eh! Nobody cares what you ate, get to the good stuff where you two were kanoodling in the parking lot, sucking face, and rubbing each other’s…”