Wild for You

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Wild for You Page 3

by Cheyenne McCray


  Charlee added, “Because we know you’ll be oh-so-bored.”

  “Love you girls,” Bailey said. “Adiós.”

  After she ended the call with her two best friends, Dara gently pushed an indignant Satan off her lap and leaned over her art table. No doubt the cat would make her pay for that soon enough.

  She started on one of her stained glass bottle projects and fell into the work. She loved using the materials and the bright colors of the finished designs.

  Dara had always loved painting on canvas, and had several completed paintings—a couple on her walls, the rest in her master bedroom closet.

  For the past two years, though, she found she really enjoyed working with her hands with the faux stained glass projects. She’d run across a video on YouTube and before she knew it she had a room full of materials to work with in her down time.

  She had given bottles and later glass murals as gifts, and had become skilled enough and confident enough to consider selling them. Etsy would be a good place to set up an online shop. It would give her another outlet for something to do on weekends when she was off work. And an extra income never hurt anything, too.

  Dara hummed as she drew a peacock feather design on a piece of tracing paper. She fell into the rhythm of using the simulated liquid lead to outline the pattern and filled it in with a vibrant set of transparent paints that was perfect for glass as well as other non-porous items.

  Time slipped by, but she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Jack. She would force her thoughts away from him, but they always seemed to turn right back and put him squarely in her mind again.

  Dara squeezed out more liquid lead to create her peacock design.

  When she was a young girl, she’d had a crush on her big brother’s best friend, Jack, who had been way too old for her at that time for him to have given her more than a passing thought. Jack had been with Lucy forever—

  She’d forgotten about Lucy.

  How could I have forgotten her?

  Jack wouldn’t forget his late wife.

  No one could forget Lucy McBride.

  Dara focused on her art again, and saw that she had squeezed so much liquid lead out of the bottle that she now had a blob of the stuff in the middle of the design. She ground her teeth, capped the bottle, and set it aside. She rested her hands on either side of the almost-finished design.

  There’s no fixing this.

  Although, if she used another method, she could make a pieced design. Might be fun.

  She sighed and got back to work. That should take her mind off of Jack’s dead wife.

  But one thought of Lucy after another clouded Dara’s mind.

  Lucy had been everyone’s darling. She had been in constant motion—social butterfly, party organizer, peacemaker. People adored her—if they weren’t jealous of her.

  Often, Dara would hear of something going on that Lucy was organizing or taking part in. Since Dara and Bailey were close, Dara got to see a lot of Lucy’s work in person on more than one occasion.

  God, the woman had been too much of what Dara was not. Lucy had been bigger than life. Dara had never been envious of Lucy. She was a nice person, but all of what Dara never wanted to be.

  Dara was forward-speaking, stood her ground if challenged, and was happily a cat lady. Even if it was only one cat and he was slightly evil, she was single and had a cat. Besides, Satan had to be worth at least six cats worth of trouble.

  Some people thought Dara was quirky in her likes and dislikes, her clothing, and her hair. She didn’t care what they thought. She lived her life the way she wanted to.

  Prescott’s residents and Jack’s family had mourned Lucy for a long time. It had been five years or so since the accident. Was she still bigger than life in everyone’s memories?

  Would Jack’s family think of Lucy if she and Jack did become involved?

  Horse before the cart, Dara reminded herself. This could be just two friends going out for a drink, nothing more.

  Her intuition told her it wasn’t that at all.

  But thinking of the future—if there was one—was valid, right?

  Of course it was.

  Something crashed to the floor, startling Dara into knocking over half a dozen stained glass paint bottles. Fortunately, she had closed them all tightly.

  When she looked in the direction the sound had come from, she saw Satan walking away from the desk clock now lying on the floor. Satan’s tail twitched high in the air.

  “Brat,” she grumbled at the beast as she got out of her seat and knelt to pick up the clock, which looked fine. She glanced at the time and rushed to her feet when she saw the digital numbers.

  Damn. She’d totally lost track of time. Jack would be here in less than forty-five minutes.

  Thank God she had looked at the time. Or should it be thank Satan for knocking off the clock?

  Dara put the clock back on a shelf and frowned at the cat. “Something about thanking Satan versus God doesn’t sound quite right to me.”

  Satan looked away from her, nose in the air.

  After stripping off her jeans and T-shirt, and taking a shower, Dara breezed to her closet and looked for something to wear. Panties and bra came from bins in the cube shelves by her closet.

  She searched her clothing hanging on rods, and picked out one of her boho-style tops and a skirt. The varying shades of bronze, brown, and rust looked great on her. She liked how the material caressed her curvy figure and how it flowed around her.

  After she put on some boho jewelry—including three rings and four bracelets—she threw on a little makeup to accentuate her eyes and a bit of lip color, too. She grabbed a hair tie and dropped it. Satan bolted out of nowhere, snatched up the tie, and darted under her bed.

  “Satan.” She tapped her foot on the tile. “Bring back my hair tie.” As if that would work.

  A low yowl came from beneath the bed in response.

  Dara sighed and grabbed another tie from the top of her dresser. She looked in the mirror as she brought her hair over her shoulder and grasped the mass before tying it loosely at the ends

  Her hair swung forward as she leaned down and checked her patchwork hobo-style bag to make sure her keys were there. Yep, right where they should be. She did not want to get locked out of her house—she’d done that way too many times. She kept forgetting to have an extra key made to hide in one of those key holders that looked like a rock, that she could place somewhere outside. Plenty of rocks lying around to disguise a hidden key holder in her desert landscaping.

  The chime of the doorbell caused her to jump. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was two minutes before Jack was due to arrive.

  Pleasant tingles traveled throughout her body. She couldn’t believe she was about to go out to have drinks with her old crush.

  Her belly decided to take a nose dive.

  Getting ahead of yourself again, Dara. This is just drinks, not a big date. If it was, he would have asked you out to dinner.

  Right?

  Oh, shut up.

  Dara slipped on a brown leather jacket and swung her purse over her shoulder. She straightened, raised her chin, took a deep breath, and headed for the door.

  Chapter Three

  Jack felt like a feather could have knocked him on his ass when Dara opened the door and smiled at him. He just about had to pick his jaw up off the floor.

  Damn, she was beautiful—all that brown hair that looked almost red in the sunlight. Fair skin with freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose—adorable as hell.

  Tall, sexy, completely kissable.

  Damn, McBride. Get it together.

  Dara radiated an energetic beauty that caused him to move closer. “You are gorgeous, Dara.”

  Her amber eyes widened slightly.

  Did she blush?

  “Thank you.” She closed the door behind her and locked it.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this evening,” he said before he rested his hand at the small
of her waist and escorted her to his truck.

  Touching her stole all thought from his mind and words from him. He was glad when she broke the spell and said, “I’ve been looking forward to today, too.” She smiled. “I am so ready for that margarita.”

  After he opened the passenger door and helped her into his vehicle, he climbed in on the driver’s side. It wasn’t long before they were on their way to Nectar’s. Dara didn’t live far off the beaten path, and it was a short drive to the small bar and grill. He parked his truck on the street, just a short walk away.

  By the time she had her seatbelt off, Jack had already made it to her side of the truck.

  She was grinning when he opened the door and helped her out. The corner of her mouth curved in the sexiest way imaginable.

  “What’s the big smile for?” he asked.

  She laughed. “To move that fast, cowboys have to be superheroes.”

  The way she laughed made him want to smile even more. “I guess I’m just happy to be here,” she added.

  He wanted to touch her so badly, his palms itched with it. He placed his hand on the small of her back again and escorted her into Nectar’s.

  “Hi, Jack.” Penny approached them.

  “How’re you doing, Pen?” he asked.

  “Better than ever.” When Penny glanced at Dara, she smiled. “Oh, hey, Dara. Didn’t recognize you at first.”

  Dara laughed. “Has it been that long?”

  “Must be.” Penny glanced at Jack. “High top or booth?”

  Jack looked at Dara, who said, “Booth.”

  Good, she had picked a booth. It would be cozier and he liked the idea of being as cozy as possible with her.

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was supposed to be just drinks, right?

  Yeah, who was he fooling?

  After he helped Dara take off her jacket, he took off his own. They settled into the booth and Penny left them with happy hour menus.

  He watched Dara as she picked up hers and perused it. He found himself studying her—the way she scrunched her cute nose, her long dark lashes shading her beautiful eyes.

  Why hadn’t he noticed all these things before? He’d always liked her, but he’d never completely took a good long look at her in this way. Maybe it was because she was his kid sister’s best friend and his high school buddy’s kid sister. Who knew?

  He was sure as hell noticing her now.

  She looked up at him and caught him staring. “Do I have something on my nose?”

  He grinned. “You have a cute nose.”

  She blinked. That sure caught her off guard. “Uh, thanks.”

  He let her off the hook. “What are you hungry for?”

  She squinted at the menu. “I was thinking about their street tacos.”

  “Great choice.” He glanced at his own menu. “I’ve always been partial to the pork sliders here. That and a Sam Adams and I’m a happy man.”

  Dara shook her head and smiled. “An easy to please man. Good to know.”

  Easy to please in so many damn ways, he thought, then wanted to knock himself upside the head for thinking that way.

  “Why don’t we get a sampler platter, too?” He scanned the list. “Onion rings, buffalo wings, loaded fries and mozzarella sticks.”

  She shook her head but smiled. “That is a lot of food, Jack.”

  He shrugged. “It’s been a long day and I’m hungry.”

  She set her menu down. “I’m going hardcore and opting for their specialty, the gold standard margarita on the rocks, salt on the rim.”

  “Ah, the gold standard.” Jack placed his menu on top of hers. “You are hardcore.”

  She folded her hands on the tabletop, her rings and bracelets glittering under the glass lamp overhead. “Yep.”

  Penny stopped in front of their booth. “Let me have it, Jack.”

  “Dara wants the street tacos and your gold margarita on the rocks with salt on the rim,” he said. “I’ll take the pork sliders and a Sam Adams. Add an appetizer sampler to the order and we’re set.”

  “I’ll tell Dave to step on it.” Penny scooped up the menus. “I know you cowboys get awfully hungry.”

  He flashed her a grin. “Thanks, Penny.”

  When she vanished into the growing crowd, Jack turned his attention back to Dara. Truth was, his attention had never fully left her. He’d been intensely aware of her every second since he’d picked her up at her house.

  She looked so comfortable in her own skin. He loved her confidence and the way she made him feel. Somewhere between completely at ease with her and wanting to go places his thoughts had no business going.

  “Charlee and I spoke with Bailey this morning.” Dara played with one of her rings, a small copper engraved band on her right index finger. “As expected, she’s having the time of her life.”

  “Can’t say I’m surprised,” he said. “That girl could have fun with anyone, anywhere she chose to go.”

  “True,” Dara nodded. “I’m glad she and Seth found each other.”

  “I’ve always been glad she’s had you and Charlee as her closest friends.” Jack watched Dara’s expression. “You both ground her yet let her be herself. Good qualities in friends.”

  “Bailey and Charlee are pretty amazing friends to have,” Dara said.

  Penny showed up and placed a huge margarita in front of Dara and a beer bottle before Jack. “Won’t be long until chow’s here.”

  “Thanks, Penny,” Jack said.

  “Oh, this is what I’ve been waiting for.” Dara picked up the margarita, pushed the straw aside, and drank from the rim. When she lowered the glass she had a satisfied expression. “I so love margaritas with salted rims.”

  Every damned thing she did was sexy, including drinking a margarita.

  Jack took a swig of beer and set the bottle down. “Bailey have anything interesting to say?”

  “Lots.” Dara played with the end of her hair that was held so loosely with a tie that it looked like it might fall out.

  He imagined how all that hair would feel sliding through his fingers as he took off the tie.

  Jack nearly groaned.

  “She told us about some of the places she’s been and the things she’s done,” Dara went on. “They’re going to have lots of pictures to share when they get back.”

  “No doubt a slideshow,” he said with a grin.

  “Probably.” She smiled. “Bailey does get excited about things.”

  “You think maybe you’re toning things down a bit?” he said.

  Dara laughed. “Okay, she definitely gets extremely excited about things.”

  He swallowed more beer and watched her drink from the rim again. The way she licked the salt from her lips…

  His body was telling him things that made him grateful no one could see his lap.

  Well hell, McBride.

  * * *

  The way Jack looked at her made Dara’s insides squirm. He openly watched everything she did, his gaze intense.

  When she’d purposefully licked salt from the rim of her margarita glass and then her lips, heat had flared in his eyes.

  Jack McBride wasn’t just interested in having a drink with her and going on his way. He wanted to get to know her better in the same way she wanted to get to know him.

  One of her gifts was the ability to size a man up and know more about him than he wanted her to. Their interaction at the ranch had been so short, and she’d been around him so long as her best friend’s brother, she hadn’t really known what to think.

  Invariably, when she didn’t listen to her instincts, she’d have a disappointing evening. She could name a couple of those regretful times off the top of her head.

  “Why did you ask me out for drinks?” She held his gaze. She wanted him to say it.

  He studied her a moment longer before the corner of his mouth turned up into a devastatingly sensual smile. “I like you, Dara, and I want to get to know you better. You’re beautiful, sexy, intel
ligent, compassionate. You’re one fascinating package.”

  Her throat went dry. It was one thing to gauge Jack’s intentions—it was another to actually hear him say them out loud.

  Dara leaned back in her seat as he held her gaze. “There’s a lot about you that makes me feel the same way. I want to explore that attraction and spend time with you.”

  His answering smile made her feel warm and gooey all over.

  She traced the outline of his carved features with her gaze, and wished she was closer so that she could kiss him while sliding her fingers over the expanse of his chest and shoulders, feeling the hard muscle beneath her fingertips.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said, his voice low, reverberating throughout her body.

  Dara sighed with the pleasure of knowing this man was interested in her.

  Jack McBride, one of the sexiest cowboys on earth.

  He took another swig of beer, and she watched the way his throat worked as he swallowed it down.

  Dara folded her forearms on the table, her bracelets clattering on the surface. She leaned closer to him. “Where do we start?”

  “Maybe you can begin by telling me how a woman like you doesn’t have a man hanging on her every word.”

  She couldn’t help a grin. “And here I thought that was what you’ve been doing.”

  He chuckled. “There’s that.”

  She played with one of her bracelets, a smooth wood piece she’d found in a farmers market in Hawaii.

  “I guess I have ridiculously high standards and I haven’t met anyone I cared to get really serious with.” She shrugged. “I’ve dated and I’ve had a couple of long-term relationships. There was something missing in both.”

  He cocked his head. “What makes you think I might meet those standards? That is if you do.”

  She smiled. “Jack, how long have we known each other?”

  “Point taken.” He offered her one of the sexiest smiles a man could give a woman. “I’ve always known you’re a good woman. Hell if I know why I didn’t stop to think harder about it.”

 

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