WYATT’S WORDS WERE still echoing in Lindy’s ears days later.
If you need more help, ask me.
He made it sound so easy to do this thing she’d avoided her entire life. And the thing was...she wanted to lean into it. Into him. And that scared her. She’d wanted the shelter of Damien’s financial security. But not...him.
She did her best not to think about all of that while she got ready for the barbecue, and for the sleepover she’d promised Wyatt that night.
She was still working on being casual about all that, as agreed, but she didn’t know how to do it when it felt like he was eroding those walls that had always stood between herself and the world.
Between herself and other people.
By the time Lindy, Sabrina and Bea arrived at Get Out of Dodge, the barbecue was in full swing. The mess hall was full of men in cowboy hats that Lindy had never met before. Apparently when Wyatt Dodge decided to throw an impromptu family and friends gathering, he could pack the place out.
Which was a good omen for the future of Get Out of Dodge, at least in Lindy’s estimation.
Wyatt was standing in the corner, talking to a cute brunette who was staring up at him like he might offer her the secret to eternal happiness. Or like he might give her a thousand amazing orgasms.
A sharp pang hit her square in the stomach.
A little jealousy she had no right to feel. That she didn’t want to feel at all.
Still, she gripped the bottle of wine she’d brought more tightly as she walked into the room. She scanned the hall, looking for more familiar faces. Trying not to stare at him. But then her eyes landed on him again, and this time, he saw her.
And he smiled.
There was something about that grin on his face that made the tightness in her chest ease, and that made her feel even sillier. Why was she worrying about anything? She had his attention now, for the time they’d agreed on. And after that it didn’t matter. It didn’t.
He tipped his hat in her direction, then stood up on one of the benches, putting him head and shoulders above the crowd. “Thank you all for coming to our family barbecue. If you’re here, you’re part of the Dodge family,” he said, turning on that charm that she imagined had served him well on the rodeo circuit. Not only with women, but with the people he worked with endorsement deals on. She could see now why Damien had found him to be so valuable. Well, she had always been able to see that. A man with his kind of looks and charm was most definitely a force to be reckoned with.
“We’re going to be eating outside, followed by some dessert, which we’ll have around the campfire. We got a house band in residence, so if y’all want to dance you’re welcome to. This is just a little precursor to our grand opening that’s happening in a few weeks, and I wanted to make sure we all had a chance to party before we were working our knuckles bloody so that everyone else could have a good time. Most especially, I want to thank my siblings, Jamie, Grant and Bennett, for the work they’ve done out here. My nephew, Dallas, who does a lot of thankless work and makes sure that he grumbles loud enough that I know it, even though I pay his sorry ass.”
That elicited a laugh from the crowd, and from Wyatt’s nephew, Dallas, who waved as if this was a ringing endorsement of his character.
“I’d also like to send out a special thanks to the team at Grassroots Winery who has done so much work to help make the relaunching of Get Out of Dodge a success. Especially Lindy Parker. She’s done a lot of work and she’s had to put up with me. That’s not an easy task.” He grinned. “Thank you, Lindy.”
Her face got hot and she shifted, holding on to the bottle of wine even tighter. She shrugged her shoulder, and smiled tightly.
“All right. Food will be ready soon. And give your honest feedback, because we have to put together a menu for our guests, and I want to make sure that it’s something we’ll all enjoy.”
He hopped down off the bench and mixed back in with the crowd. Lindy didn’t want to go and find him. Didn’t want to cling to his side, even though it was her instinct to do so.
She didn’t like that. She was starting to feel uneasy about all of it. About that premeditated hookup they were theoretically going to have tonight.
She had packed for it. Had brought sexy lingerie, for when he came to visit. And just thinking about it sent her whole body into overdrive. Made her hands shake.
She didn’t know why she was letting it get to her like this. She didn’t know why she was letting him get to her like this.
Except there were all these things from the past week that were still making her feel a little bit crazy. That moment down by the water when she had felt almost wrenched into with her longing to be different. To do different. To be the kind of woman who could laugh easily, strip off her clothes and get into the water with him.
The kind of woman who could hold hands with a man in public and not worry what other people would say. What it would make her feel.
The kind of woman who wouldn’t overthink this kind of stuff, because he didn’t. It was all easy for him. This physical stuff. He could treat her like a friend and smile, tease her, and then strip her naked.
It made her feel like there was something wrong with her that she couldn’t do that. That the idea made her feel like her skin didn’t fit.
But this was new, and it made it all feel sharp and fresh in a way it hadn’t in a long, long time. Maybe in a way it never had.
She wanted this. She wanted him. She had for years. But she didn’t want...
She didn’t want to feel jealous of the pretty girl that he had hired. She didn’t want to feel insecure. She didn’t want any of that.
It shouldn’t matter if he liked the brunette, or if she was pretty. Because they were going to be done after the grand opening. They had made that agreement. She wanted to be like him. Wanted to smile easily afterward. Wanted to be able to go out for a beer as if they used to play one-on-one basketball together, instead of making love. She wanted to treat it like that.
She didn’t want to be this weird, strung out creature all over what was just a casual adult relationship.
She didn’t want that deep, hidden part of herself to suddenly start expecting more. That part of herself that would only be disappointed. She would only feel stupid in the end when it turned out that Wyatt Dodge was exactly what she knew him to be. Exactly what he claimed to be. And she could not get used to leaning on him, on that help he offered.
She was an idiot. No mistaking that.
An idiot who was currently standing in the middle of a party ruminating and holding on to a bottle of wine like it was her lifeline.
“What’s going on?” Sabrina asked.
“Nothing,” Lindy responded.
Just then, Sabrina’s husband, Liam, walked over to where they were standing. She had driven Sabrina straight over to Get Out of Dodge from work, and Liam had been intending to come later, when he was done on his family ranch. He brought his whole family with him, and she knew they were milling around somewhere. His brothers Finn, Alex and Cain, and their wives Lane, Clara and Alison. Along with various babies, and Cain’s teenage daughter, Violet.
Liam smiled when he saw his wife, and he curved an arm around her; the big muscular tattooed man looking so soft as he touched Sabrina made Lindy’s chest feel like it was being crushed.
She didn’t want what they had. She didn’t. She was glad that her sister-in-law had found that kind of happiness. She really was. She just didn’t think it was for her.
Anyway, she had plenty of things. And apparently, the capacity to have a no-strings physical relationship, even.
If she would never be a wife, if she would never be a mother... That was fine. She could adopt children, come to that. If she really wanted to have a family. There were a lot of options for single women.
She didn’t need to be so rigid in her thinking. She needed to be more open, more creative. More flexible.
It was impossible to be flexible when she was wound too tight. She was trying to change. She really was.
Wyatt was the beginning of that. If she could only stop being moody about him.
“Hi,” Liam said, addressing Lindy. “How’s everything going?”
“Good,” Lindy responded, stealing another look at Wyatt.
“Are you hungry?” Sabrina asked her husband.
“A bit,” Liam responded.
“Why don’t we go get in line for food? I bet you worked a full day.”
That easy, casual concern for him, the fact that she was so in tune with what he felt, what he needed, was more affecting to watch than Lindy had anticipated.
Sometimes she missed being a half of a whole. Missed having that person that was an extension of herself. But she didn’t think she and Damien had been that for a long time before the divorce.
They had started that way. But in the end, they’d just been two people who were legally connected on their tax returns.
Until they weren’t.
And if it was that easy to separate...had they ever really been like this?
It was those walls again.
“I’ll catch you later,” Sabrina said, patting Liam on the chest. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Lindy said. “Go feed your husband.”
“Okay,” Sabrina said, sliding her hand down Liam’s arm and taking his hand, the two of them turning and walking back out of the mess hall.
Bea looked at Lindy. “Dane isn’t coming, is he?”
“No,” Lindy said. “He has a ride in Sisters. He should be back again before the grand opening.”
Bea look slightly crestfallen. “Okay.”
Lindy started to say something, then hesitated. There really was no point in lecturing Bea on her feelings for Dane. Lindy wished that she hid them better. It killed her to watch Bea being so vulnerable without even realizing it. The girl had never been hurt before. So she didn’t understand. Not really.
“I’m going to say hi to Kaylee,” Bea said. She turned and made her way toward Bennett, Kaylee and Dallas. At the appearance of Bea Dallas immediately brightened up, all of his teenage angst fading from his face.
Great, Lindy thought. Bea was mooning over Dane, who was too old and too experienced for her, and Dallas was mooning after Bea, who was far too old for him.
That was the way of the world. Nothing ever seemed to line up.
The world was a jackass.
She looked back over at Wyatt, the man that she was currently mooning over. No. She would not moon. She needed to...
It was like anything else. Coming from the trailer park to the Grassroots Winery world. She had to fake it until it felt real. Until it felt possible. She could have a physical-only relationship with him. She didn’t need to have feelings. She didn’t need to be possessive. All of that was ridiculous, and it wasn’t what she wanted, anyway. Not really. It was an old habit, that’s what it was. She didn’t know how to have sex without commitment. Because she’d never done it. She was learning. That was all.
It was a good thing that they were going to meet up tonight, actually, her reticence aside.
It would take some of the intensity away from that first time they were together.
There was no way the sex was actually as good as she remembered anyway. He was a mortal man, after all, not a god.
Until that afternoon at her house it had been a couple of years since she’d had sex, and that wasn’t natural. So, the...orgasmicness of it all had been amplified.
Plus, Wyatt had been the object of her guilty lust for long enough that it had felt big. She had to make it...normal. Common. And she realized that she needed to get back under him as soon as possible. Because that was the only thing that was going to help her deal with these ridiculous feelings that she had inside of her.
She continued to mill around the crowd, circulating in the mess hall before going outside and went and said her hellos to all of the Donnellys.
There was a tall, handsome cowboy standing near the table laden with food waiting to be served. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite figure out why.
He looked to be around Wyatt’s age, brutally handsome and made only more so by that slight weathered look about him. He had a dimple in one cheek, and a decent-size scar next to his eye on the other side of his face. It seemed an intentional counterbalance. One that made him look both more approachable than he should, and about as dangerous as he ought to.
He looked at her, a small smile on his lips, then he took a couple of steps, closing the distance between them. “Are you Lindy Leighton?”
“Lindy Parker,” she said. “I’m no longer married to Damien.” Those words were a relief.
He nodded slowly. “Probably a good thing. That guy is kind of an ass.” Not one of the riders Damien had worked with, then. Or at least not one who’d parted ways with him amicably.
She laughed. “No argument from me. Do we know each other?”
“I’ve seen you around,” he said. “Gabe Dalton. I know your brother.”
“Obviously not well if you hadn’t heard about my divorce.”
“I ride saddle bronc. I see him around sometimes, but we’re not at all the same events. My family has a ranch in Gold Valley.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize.”
“Well, you didn’t recognize me, so why would you realize where my family lived?”
“Good question.”
“I’m friends with Wyatt,” he said by way of explanation. “I was in the area, so he asked me to stop by. I’m not going to be here during the official grand opening.”
“I see.”
It hit her then, that this guy was flirting with her. It made her wonder if she could make a career out of casual relationships with handsome cowboys. After all, her relationship with Wyatt would be over soon enough. And apparently, she wasn’t completely unappealing to other men.
“Howdy, Gabe,” Wyatt said, walking up to the two of them. “I didn’t see you get here.”
“Far be it for me to pass up a free meal, Dodge,” Gabe returned. “I was just saying hey to Lindy. I remember seeing her around sometimes years ago.”
“Yeah. She doesn’t hang out on the circuit anymore.”
“She told me,” Gabe said, crossing his arms, like he was ready to challenge Wyatt.
Oh good grief.
And then, even more startling than the fact that Gabe had been flirting with her at all, was the realization that Wyatt was being territorial. She did not know what to make of that. Not at all.
“Interesting,” Wyatt said, his tone indicating he didn’t find any of this interesting. “Well, it was real good to run into you, Gabe. Glad we got a chance to chat. If you’ll excuse me, I have to show Lindy something. Feel free to grab an extra steak.”
He hooked his hand underneath Lindy’s elbow and guided her away from Gabe.
“Bye,” Lindy said, waving at Gabe to exasperate Wyatt. “It was nice to see you again.” She added a sparkling smile to that farewell.
“Excuse me,” she said to Wyatt when they were out of earshot. “What was that?”
“I wanted to ask you how you were finding things,” he said. “I wanted to find out if you had been to see your cabin yet.”
“You did not. You were...intercepting me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were. Were you jealous that I was talking to Gabe?”
She wanted to marinate in this delicious irony. Because she had been wrestling with her jealousy only moments ago, and it seemed like Wyatt had a few issues of his own. She felt vindicated.
She’d been so sure the jealousy thing was all her glitch, but no. Mr. Call For a Good Time could be possessive too.
“Not at all,” he said. “But, you should know that he’s a total manwhore.”
“Different from you how?” she asked.
“Not different than me at all,” Wyatt said. “Except he’s a sissy who rides saddle bronc.”
“Wow. So I’m supposed to avoid him because he’s like you.”
“Hell yeah,” Wyatt said. “You know how I am. I’m shameless.”
“You are,” Lindy said, “it’s true. But I agreed that I wouldn’t sleep with other men while we were together,” she said archly. “If I want to scout for what’s next, what business is it of yours?”
“No scouting on my land,” he said, his voice getting hard. “That’s a big no.”
“I don’t recall signing up to let you tell me what to do, Wyatt Dodge,” she said.
“Oh, you sure as hell did.”
“My body is not your business,” she said crisply.
He leaned in, lowering his voice. “You made your body my business the minute you let me inside.”
“I... This is supposed to be casual.” That was for her benefit as much as his.
“It is casual,” he said, smiling, but even she could tell it was forced. “But that doesn’t mean I want another man to touch you. And it doesn’t mean I want to watch you flirt.”
“I didn’t flirt,” she protested.
“Like I said, Gabe Dalton is shameless, and I wouldn’t let him near any woman I liked.”
“You invited him to your friends and family barbecue.” He had to see how ridiculous he was being.
“Because he’s a friend. But I’m realistic about how he is.” He huffed out a laugh. “If I ever saw him even look at my sister I’d kill him.”
Lindy rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m a good ten years older than your sister. And I think I can handle myself. And now I’m done arguing with you. I’m hungry and I want to eat.”
“Get a plate of food then,” he responded.
“Am I dismissed?” she asked.
“I’ll grab a plate too.”
“Oh joy. You’re such wonderful company right now, I can think of nothing better.”
Her sarcasm didn’t deter him. She wasn’t sure she’d wanted it to.
The two of them walked back over to the table of food, and began to fill their plates. Bread, steak and corn on the cob were the first things that Lindy grabbed, followed by a green salad, pasta salad and she managed to wedge a partial scoop of potato salad on there for good measure.
Then, she and Wyatt wandered down to the outdoor dining area. There were long wooden tables with bench seats, shaded by pine trees, overlooking the rushing river down below.
There were free spaces at the Dodge family table. There was an open seat next to Jamie, which ended up occupied by Wyatt, and Lindy sat across from him, and next to Kaylee Capshaw, Bennett’s fiancée.
“How’s it going?” Wyatt asked Jamie.
“Great,” Jamie said. “The chef you hired is a genius,” she said, taking the last bite of steak from her plate. “You should marry her.”
“Marriage isn’t in my future, kiddo. I’ve got a ranch to run.” That seemed pointed at Lindy, and it annoyed her. She didn’t want to marry him. He could calm the hell down.
Jamie laughed. “Haven’t you heard? A great many ranchers manage to find wives. Running a ranch hardly precludes getting married.”
“All right,” he returned. “When are you getting hitched?”
“When pigs fly over a frozen hellscape.”
“I figured as much,” he said. “So maybe stop trying to marry me off.”
“You know,” Bennett said from the other side of Kaylee. “Marriage isn’t all that bad.”
“How would you know?” Jamie asked. “You’re only engaged.”
“We might as well be married,” Bennett said, putting his arm around Kaylee.
“It’s true,” Kaylee said. “We live together, work together and already have a kid.”
“I’m not a kid,” Dallas said, with full-scale teenage indignation. “I’m a young adult.”
“I doubt that,” Bennett said.
“There’s an entire book genre that supports my claim,” Dallas pointed out.
“Speaking of guests,” Bennett said, not speaking of them at all, and obviously just purposefully shutting his son’s attitude down. “How are the reservations going?”
“We’re full up for the first couple of weeks,” Wyatt responded without missing a beat.
“Good,” Bennett said. “That is good.”
There was a strange kind of tension between the two of them, and Lindy couldn’t quite pinpoint why or what it was.
She knew that she shouldn’t even be curious, but having dinner with his family was not going to go very far in helping her figure out how to have a detached relationship.
She ate quickly, and then went and found other people to socialize with, until the sunlight began to dwindle and big bonfires were lit. There were four separate fire pits stationed at the center of the cabins. Little benches surrounding each one. Lindy took a seat next to Bea, and the supplies for s’mores started getting passed around. There were also bananas in tinfoil with chocolate chips, to make banana boats, roasted on grates over the flames.
Lindy opted to go with a classic, taking hold of a stick and marshmallow, putting it over the fire.
She and Bea spent the next while building s’mores and eating them, and Lindy suddenly felt awash in a kind of nostalgia she had never felt before.
It reminded her of her childhood. More shocking than that...it wasn’t terrible.
Suddenly, she wished that Dane were here too. She had turned away from this kind of thing. Eating steak outside on benches, sitting in front of a fire and eating camp food.
Like she had to be altered or nothing. This polished, fancy version of herself, or the trailer park her.
And maybe, these fragmented pieces that seemed like they didn’t belong were just all her. Maybe the fact that she was pretending it wasn’t was part of why her skin didn’t fit quite right.
Quite a revelation to be having over a s’more, but, she seemed to be having it either way.
She wondered, for a moment, what her life would have been like if she had never met Damien. If she would have been the kind of woman who would have skinny-dipped with Wyatt the other day. Who wouldn’t have worried so much about appearances, who wouldn’t have felt so married to the image that she layered on.
Like her outfit that looked like it came from a page in a catalog, as Wyatt had put it.
Was that what she was so afraid of? That she would undo her hair, and take off her clothes and become something different? Undo all the work she had put in to becoming someone who fit in with that world she had married into?
Did she even want to be in that world anymore? Or did she think she had to be in order to run the winery?
Had she ever even wanted to fit into that world? Or had she just not wanted to feel stupid?
Was she her own woman, or was she simply a woman created by the life her ex-husband had wanted to live?
“You look very serious,” came a husky voice from behind her.
She turned and saw Wyatt, who slid onto the bench right next to her, his denim-clad thigh resting against hers. It shouldn’t get her all excited. But it did.
“I’m pondering the mysteries of the universe over marshmallows.” She waved her s’more in his direction.
That was true, but he would never believe it.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“I don’t recommend it. I do recommend the marshmallows.” He leaned in and took a bite off her s’more.
Her stomach sank and she did a frantic sweep of the people around them to see if anyone had noticed. It didn’t seem like anyone was paying attention to them, not even Bea, who had started up a conversation with Jamie.
“What?” he asked, looking innocent.
“You just do things like that,” she said. “And you don’t seem to care about the consequences.”
“What consequences? Other people knowing about us?”
“Yes,” she said. “That.”
“What does it matter?”
“We’ve been through this before. It’s what they’ll...think of me.”
“Your family is not going to think anything different of you. Mine certainly won’t care.”
“That’s not... That’s not the point.”
“I think it is. Actually, I think the real issue is what you think about yourself. You’re afraid of something, Lindy, and God knows what.”
“I don’t think of sex as a handshake,” she said. “I’m trying to be more casual... But it’s never going to be...that to me.”
“No see, to me, sex is the easy part.”
“I know,” she said.
She stared at him for a moment, and she was reminded of what they had talked about down at the river. When she had put her hand on his chest and said that he was bulletproof.
Wyatt liked everybody. It hit her then with the force of a brick. He liked everyone, and everyone liked him. But she wondered if he felt much of any of it. All this stuff, all these interactions, they were easy for him. He didn’t struggle like she did. He didn’t worry. But she... She felt things. Deep. She sometimes wondered if he felt anything at all. He wasn’t grumpy, he wasn’t hard, and that made it easy to think that he was just happy. But she didn’t think he was. The only way all this stuff could be so easy was if he didn’t care much at all.
Except about the ranch. He cared about that.
“It’s a good thing this is temporary,” she said slowly.
“Why is that?” he asked, his voice getting sharper.
“We really don’t go together,” she said.
“No argument there,” he responded. “We’re compatible in the only way that matters,” he said, his voice husky.
They sat next to each other in front of the fire, and she really wanted to lean into him. Into his strength, into his body. Even now after they’d been fighting. But she didn’t.
The evening washed over her, the campfire and the sound of laughter, the strains of country music filtering out over a speaker somewhere, filling her.
This was simple. A simple life. But it was happy. Maybe that was the real reason she had run so hard and so fast from her own childhood. It had never felt like this. She had never felt safe. Not the way she did with Wyatt’s heat and hardness, all of his strength, right next to her. Like he was the rock wall she would be able to lean against if everything started to crumble.
And so she did scoot a little bit closer to him. And then he put his hand over hers, the hard press of his touch doing something to her that she didn’t want to think about.
“We never went camping,” she said suddenly.
“Never?”
“No. My mom never did anything with us.”
“My mom died when I was eleven.”
Her heart twisted. Hard. She stared at the fire, resisting the urge to look at him. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” he said. “It changed everything. It changed us. You can’t go through a loss like that and not feel it. I had to be the man of the house. I had to help my dad. I couldn’t fall apart. Not when he needed someone to take over while he did.”
“You were a boy.”
“And you were a girl whose mother didn’t take her camping. Life is hard.”
She shook her head. “Not going camping isn’t a struggle.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m a good listener. And I’d say that I heard a lot more behind those words than what you actually said.”
She didn’t like that. Didn’t like how easily he read her. It was all great for sex. Less so in these quiet moments they kept on falling into.
She hadn’t been able to force moments of emotional intimacy with Damien. With Wyatt, they were like potholes, and she didn’t seem to be able to avoid them.
“Your sister must have been a baby,” she said, changing the subject back to him.
“She was. Dad had to look out for her. And somewhere in between all that I had to figure out how to look out for Grant and Bennett. How to look out for Get Out of Dodge. They weren’t good times. That’s how the place ended up falling into disrepair. How we ended up in dire straits financially. Anyway, I left when I was seventeen. I went to the rodeo. I sent money back.”
“That’s a lot.” She didn’t know what else to say. She knew that he was leaving things out, and part of her wanted to press for more.
Another part of her, a self-protecting part, wanted to forget he’d told her any of this.
The way they had taken care of each other was... She had no idea how to even process that. She loved Dane. And he loved her. But he had taken off when he was a teenager, had taken care of his own self. He hadn’t wanted her to do anything for him. He was fiercely independent and he had wanted to make a better life his way. Lindy had met Damien. And in many ways, she had done the same.
It was funny, in the end, how both she and Dane had found their way out in such different ways. It was how they’d been raised.
But Wyatt had given. Given to his siblings, to his father.
She had thought only moments ago that he didn’t care at all about anything. Now she wondered if he cared so much there were reasons he pushed it down deep.
That thought was more terrifying than the realization that he might be a wasteland of emotion. Because that man... The one he was describing now, the one who had given so much to be there for his father, for his siblings, that man was one she could have feelings for.
And she wanted feelings about like she wanted the plague. In fact, they amounted to about the same thing in her world.
Wyatt cleared his throat. “I better keep making the rounds.”
She didn’t want him to go. But she almost needed him to.
Sex. She had to remember why they were talking at all. She had to get it back to that.
Regain her control.
“Right,” she said. “I’m in cabin six. If you didn’t know.”
He looked at her, his expression half shadow in the firelight, his eyes intense. “I know.”
Then he stood and walked away, and she had a feeling it had nothing to do with the fact that he needed to check on anything. He was just walking away from her. From that moment.
And it was good that he had.
She didn’t want to have deep conversations with him about what made him human, and what made him something other than that cocky bull rider that she had written him off as the first time she had met him.
He was supposed to be her fantasy. The last thing she needed was for him to become a man.
* * *
BY THE TIME everything had wound down Wyatt was getting antsy. Hell, he was somewhere past antsy. It had taken all of his strength not to haul Lindy away from the fire and take her straight to bed. It was for that reason alone he had decided that he needed to wait. She was right. They weren’t compatible. Not in any damned way. Except the physical.
He liked irritating her, sure. But, that was not the same as getting along. Not in the least.
He hadn’t meant to tell her all that about his past. Not the other day, and certainly not now.
None of that mattered. She was so prickly that it was his inclination to try to put her at ease with conversation, but it was one thing when that was all easy banter, and quite another when it became a whole discussion about feelings and things like that.
The problem was, he liked talking to her.
That meant he couldn’t do his usual. It wasn’t just sex and nothing else. It was getting tangled.
But tonight, it was about to get a lot more simple again. Tonight was going to be all about the physical. And that was what he knew.
He looked around the darkened lot, heading toward cabin six not wanting to have to stop and chat with anyone. Thankfully, it seemed like everyone had either gone home or gone to bed in one of the cabins.
He walked up the front porch and knocked. And waited.
If she was messing with him, he was going to be pissed off. This had to end. This weird dancing around each other. Talking by campfires and bringing up his mother. That wasn’t him.
Hell no.
And if she was trying to manipulate him, trying to play like she was in charge, she was going to be sadly disappointed.
But then the door opened, and there she was, wearing exactly what she had been wearing during the barbecue, looking pale-faced and a little bit concerned.
“Howdy,” he said, knowing the casual greeting would put her on her back foot.
“Howdy,” she returned, her tone dry.
“Can I come in?”
She shrugged. “I suppose.”
She moved out of the way and allowed him entry into the tiny cabin. They had been remodeled over the past few months, and were looking the good kind of rustic, rather than the kind that meant no one had touched them in a couple of decades. There was a small kitchenette, a little seating area with wood-framed couches and, most important, a big bed at the back of the room.
“I put you in this one on purpose,” he said, tugging his shirt up over his head. “So you know.”
“We’re doing this already?” She looked a little bit nervous.
“That’s what I’m here for,” he said.
If she wanted more of what had happened earlier, she was out of luck. They had a physical-only arrangement. Beginning and end of story. And some of the things that had happened between them the past couple of times they’d been together had put that arrangement in a strange space.
He didn’t do strange spaces. He did hot spaces. Fun spaces. But not strange ones.
“Well...”
He approached her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his arms. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”
“No,” she said. “I’m surprised no one has ever said it to you.”
“I didn’t say they hadn’t.”
“Well. Pot. Kettle.”
“I’m not here to talk,” he said. “We’ve done a lot of damn talking over the last couple of days. We haven’t got a lot of time. Whatever game you were playing making me wait...”
“You could’ve instigated sex with me if you wanted it. You could have called.”
He ignored the truth in that. “It’s good for you to have to make the move,” he said. “You’re so uptight,” he said. “So worried about what everybody else thinks. What would happen if you just didn’t care for a while? I think what would happen is what happened in your house the other day. On your couch. I think you’re a lot wilder than you want people to think you are, Melinda.”
“Call me that one more time, and I’ll show you how wild I can be.”
He reached down, sliding his finger along the edge of her jaw, stopping at the tip of her chin, tilting her face upward. “Little girl, do not make empty promises. Because when I call them in, your pretty ass will be in a world of trouble.”
“It’s not an empty promise.” She pressed her fingertips against his chest. “Keep pushing me, Dodge, you’ll give me a chance to test my bulletproof theory.”
He captured her wrist, holding her fast as he bent his head to take her in a searing kiss.
If she wanted a fight, he was good with a fight. He knew how to fight with her. And he liked it. The other stuff... He didn’t need that. Didn’t want it.
He sure as hell hadn’t asked her for it.
This was what he wanted. This was all it was. It was all it ever was with him. He didn’t do that feelings stuff. Not anymore. Feelings were just black holes. They took from you. They ate away at you until you became something that you didn’t recognize. Until you forgot who you were for long enough that you became the kind of man who would be part and party to destroying his own father’s one bit of happiness since the death of his mother.
He didn’t want to think about that. Not now. Not while he had Lindy in his arms. He didn’t want to think about it ever.
He shouldn’t be thinking about it, because there was nothing in this that he didn’t want. Nothing he hadn’t chosen.
He was in control. Not this woman who had been with one other man. Who could hardly take her clothes off with the lights on without blushing.
He wasn’t a boy easily manipulated by those weaknesses he hadn’t yet managed to harden over into callouses. No. He was a man. And he knew this game. Damn Lindy Parker for making him feel like it might be a different game when it wasn’t.
Anger poured through his veins as he grabbed the hem of her top and jerked it up over her head. She gasped, but he didn’t stop.
Their first time... He’d been so wrapped up in the fact that it was her. The fact that he had wanted her for all that time and was finally having her. Well, he’d had her. It didn’t matter. It was only hot sex. That was all it was. He grabbed hold of the straps on her bra and wrenched them down her arms, exposing her breasts. Then he bent down and sucked one nipple deep into his mouth, which tightened like a ripe berry on his tongue. This was what he knew. This was what he wanted.
Raw. Dirty. Sex.
He propelled her back against the wall, working the front of her jeans, getting them pushed partway down her hips. Then he unhooked her bra and dealt with it completely, before pressing his hand between her thighs and sliding his fingers through her slick folds, discovering her more than ready for his touch.
This was honest. There were no words for this. And there didn’t need to be. This was all he wanted. All he needed.
This was what he was good at.
He shoved her pants and underwear down all the way to the floor, dropping to his knees along with them before holding her hips steady, pressing her against the wall even firmer as he examined her.
“Wyatt...”
“What did I tell you about talking?”
“You can’t...”
He chuckled, leaning forward and letting his tongue between her thighs, the same trail his fingers had just wandered down.
He tasted her, deep and long, luxuriating in the feel of her, the taste of her, until she started to shake, until she started to whimper. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He moved his hands down her legs, forcing them apart, spreading her wider for him. He moved one hand up to cup her, sliding it back and pushing a finger inside of her while he continued to lap at her with his tongue. She held on to his shoulders, her nails sinking into his skin, her cries becoming harsher, more broken.
But as he felt her pleasure coating his lips, he couldn’t forget who he was with. He couldn’t make it not matter. It was Lindy. Lindy Parker, the woman he had wanted for the past five years. And he was tasting her. She was coming apart at the seams because of him.
And he wanted it to matter.
He damn well needed it to, and he hated that.
It reminded him of the boy he’d been at seventeen. Wanting so desperately for someone to care about him. For someone to see him. Touch him. For his touch to affect someone else.
No. This was nothing like that. He was nothing like that. It didn’t matter. Except that it was a triumph. And every man was allowed a moment to glory in the triumph. In getting what he wanted. After so damn long.
He needed her mindless. He needed to take control here. Of her. Of himself.
He shifted again, grabbing hold of one knee, draping it over his shoulder, before lifting her other leg up off the ground, pressing her against the wall and holding her fast, his hands braced on her hips as he took advantage of her even more open position to continue devouring her. That was when she broke. Shattered underneath him, crying out his name. And he tried not to care. Tried not to care that she said his name over and over again. Not anyone else’s. Not a generic cry, and not even a blasphemy. No. It was his name.
Him.
He was the one she was thinking of.
He gritted his teeth, setting her back down on the floor before rising up and capturing her lips with his, showing her exactly how far she had fallen. Letting her taste her own arousal on his lips.
“See?” he asked, his voice rough. “You’re not that buttoned-up woman you pretend to be. This is who you are. You don’t have to be this when you’re out running that winery, but don’t pretend this isn’t you.”
He didn’t know why he cared. That was what he kept coming back to. Why had he taken her out to that damned waterfall? Why had he wanted her to strip off her clothes and get in the water with him? Yeah, so he could see her naked, but there had been more to it. And he didn’t know why in hell there was. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t reasonable. It shouldn’t matter.
It did.
He shook his head and kissed her again before she had a chance to ask why. She wasn’t part of that fight he was having with himself, and he didn’t want her to be. She started to grab feebly at his belt buckle, trying to get his clothes off.
“In a minute, babe,” he said, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist, and carrying her back toward that bed. He deposited her on the edge of it, her legs draped over the side, and then he began to take care of his jeans and underwear.
He started to bend down to get his wallet, to grab a condom, and she stopped him.
“Wait,” she said.
“I’m past the point of waiting, sweetheart.”
“Well I’m not.” She leaned forward and kissed his hip bone. “Maybe you’re right,” she said softly. “Maybe I don’t know who I am. But maybe you do.”
She was playing sweet and demure now, and he just didn’t believe it. Not for a moment. And when she wrapped her hand around his cock and leaned in, parting her lips and sliding her tongue over the head of him, he knew that he had been right. She was trading him. Trying to make it so that what he had done to her, the fact that he had reduced her to something mindless and needy and more than a little bit out of control, was less somehow.
He reached back, forking his fingers into her hair, trying to grab hold of her. Trying to find the strength to pull her back.
“We’re not trading,” he said through gritted teeth as she swallowed him down, her tongue tracing an erotic pattern over his length.
She pulled back. “Who’s trading?”
“You,” he gritted out. “You, dammit. And I’m not playing games.”
“Neither am I.”
“Like hell.” But then, he lost the will to have this fight. Lost the will to have this conversation, because she took him in again, her hands and mouth playing havoc with him, making it so he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think at all.
She played him with extreme expertise, and he found himself bucking his hips against her mouth, completely lost in the experience. In the slow, wet glide of her tongue, the firm grip of her hand. And the fact that it was Lindy. Lindy who had him in her mouth.
She was trying to take him over the edge. She was trying to trade. One for one. He got down on his knees in front of her, so she was doing it for him.
That was what pulled him back from the brink. Only that.
He gripped her hair more tightly, drawing her head back, pulling himself away. “No,” he ground out. “Not like that.”
“Why not? You did it to me.”
He growled, lifting her up and hauling her back onto the bed, coming down over the top of her. “You got yours and now I get mine, is that the game you think you’re playing? Are you just trying to stay in control, honey?”
She blinked her eyes, slow, trying to look innocent, he assumed. “I’m not trying to do anything.”
“You damn well are. And that’s not how this goes. You don’t get to stay in control, baby. Not with me. I want you like you were the first time. I want you panting and breathless and screaming out my name. You understand? I want you to beg.”
“I don’t beg,” she said simply.
“You should know better than to challenge me.”
“Oh, baby,” she said. “Don’t make empty promises to me.”
He growled, putting his hand between her legs, stroking her, finding her slippery with her need for him. Then he kissed her, deep and hard, toying with that most sensitive part of her while he did. He brought her up to the edge, moving his thumb over her clit in a circle, and then drew back. Pumping two fingers inside of her until he could feel her beginning to pulse beneath him. And then he pulled away. He did that. Over and over again. Until he thought he would lose his mind, until she sounded like she had damn sure lost hers.
She was tossing her head back and forth on the pillow, and then she wrapped her hands around his wrist, like she was trying to get him to stop, or trying to hold him there, she didn’t know.
“I make good on every threat, you remember that,” he said, his voice low, his lips brushing against hers with each word he spoke. “You can’t play me.”
Except he had a feeling that she could. That if the situations were reversed he would be as helpless as she was now.
But he wouldn’t allow that. He sure as hell would not.
Her hips bucked up off the bed, desperately seeking more, and he left his hand still, two fingers deep inside of her as she feebly attempted to give herself some satisfaction.
“What is it, honey?” he taunted. “What is it you want?”
“For you to go to hell and die,” she bit out.
“I think I’d have to die before going to hell, at least, if my understanding of things is correct. Granted, I paid terrible attention in church.”
“Wyatt Dodge...”
“Beg. Me.”
“Go. To. Hell.”
But she kept on wiggling her hips, and he could tell she was getting closer. And so he teased her. Just one more pass of his thumb over her clit. She let out a wretched-sounding growl, her head tilting back.
“What do you want, Lindy?”
“Nothing.”
“Yes you do.” He reached down, wrapping his hand firmly around his cock, pumping it a couple of times so she could see. “I think you want this.”
“I’ve got a vibrator.”
He chuckled. “Did you bring it with you? I don’t think you did.”
“You can’t do this,” she panted. “It’s cruel.”
“I’ve got a price. And you know what it is.” What was cruel was the fact that he could barely see straight. He was so hard he could hardly stand it. What was cruel was that he had never wanted a woman like he wanted her, and he thought this woman might kill him.
What was cruel was that this game was ready to defeat him. No way around it. If she didn’t beg, he would be the one begging soon. And that was a fact.
“Wyatt,” she whispered. “Please.”
“What was that?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
“You heard me. Please. I need you. I need you inside me.”
She did not have to ask again. He reached down to grab hold of his wallet, tearing open the condom, sheathing himself as quickly as possible. Then he pressed himself against her entrance, and when he went in, he went slow. He savored her. The feel of that tight, wet heat closing around him, overtaking him, inch by delicious inch.
The sounds she made when he was in her. The deep, raw satisfaction. And then, they were both out of control. He couldn’t tease, not anymore. But in the end, they were both mindless. They found their release together, and she sure as hell cried out his name.
But then, he cried out hers.
And it was clear that what they’d been fighting for wasn’t a release. It was something bigger than that. More than that.
He had a feeling that they’d both lost.
And Wyatt Dodge didn’t like to lose.