Summer Lovin': A Wounded Hearts Novella (4 page)

T
he entire time Rebecca
, Laurel, and Katy were setting up for the evening’s events, Becky couldn’t get the afternoon out of her mind. She laughed and joked with the caterers and teased Laurel on her obsession with a certain burly sheriff, but continually replayed the abject fear on Tommy’s face when he’d been manhandled by that creep. She should have done something more to control the situation. It worried her what might have happened after Tommy got home. The signs of abuse, at least mental if not physical, had been there and she’d let him go. But it had happened so fast there’d been no real response time until it was too late.

She sighed and rearranged the cutlery for at least the tenth time. Hopefully Jack would do as he said and look into the child’s home-care condition for her.

“You’re going to wear the silver right off that knife soon,” Laurel said from behind her shoulder.

Becky smiled and set the piece down before turning to her friend. “Oh, you look gorgeous.” Laurel had switched from her workday clothes to a shell pink sequined party dress that should have clashed wildly with her red-gold hair and fair complexion. Instead, it brought her to vivid, runway model perfection.

Laurel blushed and ran nervous pink-tipped nails down her hips. “Do you think it’s too much? I know this is Annie’s night, but I saw this dress and fell in love.”

Rebecca shook her head and grabbed her friend’s hands. “You look amazing. Jack’s not going to know what hit him.” The two shared a smile. “Don’t worry about Annie. If I know her, she’s going to show up in something incredible and knock Jared flat on his butt.”

Laurel laughed and Becky was pleased to see the doubt vanish from her eyes. They’d clicked right from the moment they met in college. Laurel had come to town just before Christmas for a temporary job and ended up engaged to the sheriff. Becky was happy for them. No one deserved a second chance more than Jack did. He was everything a father should be for Tina. The whole town had stood behind him after the accident and the subsequent loss of his football career.

“Where’s Katy?” Laurel glanced around the newly decorated backroom of Duke’s Bar.

“She just went to check on the kitchen.”

It was a huge stress-reliever to arrange flowers and lay out tablecloths after the day from hell she’d just endured. Duke had offered the space to them pro bono and it worked out perfectly for their plans. The attached Rendezvous Hotel hosted a well-organized kitchen willing to cater the event, there were even rooms available for those who over-imbibed. The decorating had gone smoothly and Duke agreed to supply the alcohol and entertainment.

Becky glanced down at her own black velvet dress. Mitch would have liked it; he was a very tactile man. The mink-like texture would appeal to him. A ghostly sensation of calloused fingers feathered across her torso and made her shiver. Damn him. Five years later and he still occupied way too many of her thoughts. After this wedding chaos with Annie was finished she needed to find a lawyer and quietly end their marriage. It was time to move on.

She took a big gulp of the white Zinfandel she’d been sipping on for the past couple hours and promptly choked. Coughing and sputtering, she felt like an idiot as she waved away Laurel’s concerned attempt to pat her back. By the time it settled her eyes were teary and her face burned with embarrassment.

“Classy, hey?” She used a mauve monogrammed napkin to dry her lips leaving a blot of bright red lipstick behind.

Katy entered from the far set of doors before Laurel could comment, her lemon slip dress glowing under the track lighting. “Okay, the kitchen’s ready. I think we have us a party, girlfriends.” When she drew closer she noticed the tears and her brow creased with concern. “What’s going on? What did I miss?”

“Just me not able to hold my liquor, no worries.” Becky hurried to assure her best friend. Tonight was about having a good time, dammit, and no six-foot pain in the ass was going to ruin it for her.

Katy smiled, relieved, and lifted her flute in a toast. “To love, ladies.”

They clinked glasses and took a sip just as the first guests began to arrive. To love, wherever it may be.

* * *

M
itch straightened
his tie for what felt like the hundredth time and gazed around the crowd of partygoers. He wasn’t sure what drove him to come here tonight. His plan had been to hang with Kyle and the kids, but when asked he’d jumped on Jared’s invitation like a dirty shirt. Speaking of which… He looked down and made sure his tie covered the small grease stain on his dress shirt.

This so wasn’t his kind of thing.

He should just go. It wasn’t like he’d be welcomed anyway. These were Jack’s friends, Jack’s family. And besides, this night was for Jared and Annie. They didn’t need him around causing dissent.

He’d just turned to make his way back to the bar when a hand clapped him on the back.

“Mitch Taylor, it’s been a long, long time, son.”

Mitch swallowed hard and swung around. Jack’s grandfather stood before him, older, stooped, but with the same kind eyes and warm smile he’d always had for his grandkid’s friends.

“Mr. Garrett. It’s great to see you, sir.” He stuck out a hand and was instead engulfed in a surprisingly strong man-hug.

“No need to stand on formality with me, young man. I’ve known you too damn long for that.” Mr. Garrett leaned back but kept hold of his shoulders in a firm grip. “Neil, call me Neil.” He waited until Mitch nodded before letting him go. “Now, what say you and I head over to the bar and get ourselves a drink?” He winked and nodded behind him to the server surrounded by guests in the corner of the room.

Without waiting for a reply, the elder Garrett began to make his way through the crush of people. Mitch sighed. He couldn’t leave now, someone might plow the old man over by accident. He had to follow.

“Mitch, glad you could make it.” Neil’s sister, Tess Garrett smiled as she leaned in and kissed her brother’s cheek. “Neil, don’t forget you owe me a dance.”

Neil grumbled but it was easy to see the affection between the siblings. As if on cue, the overhead lights dimmed and a four-piece band that had been setting up on stage strummed a few preliminary chords.

All eyes turned to the dance floor, the spotlight picking out a vision in gold lame as Annie glided onto the floor. But Mitch couldn’t take his gaze off the stunning beauty holding her hand. Rebecca wore a heart-stopping, thigh-hugging, breath-stealing dress that made him want to rip out every guy’s eyes from their skulls. And that was before she laughingly turned to dance with her friend and made his mouth run dry. There must have been a shortage of velvet material because there was no damn back on that thing. He could almost see down to the top of her ass for crying out loud. How the hell did it stay up?

He was on the move before the opening notes died away, peeling his dinner jacket off his shoulders as he went. His temperature rose with every step. What was she thinking? A dress like that meant one thing only. If she wanted sex then it was damn well going to be with him and no one else. She was his wife. Maybe it was about time he reminded her of that fact.

Annie looked startled when she caught sight of him stomping towards them. Then her eyes lit with satisfaction and she performed a twirl worthy of a score of ten to bring Becky’s gaze around to him. She stumbled to a halt, a hand going defensively to her breast.

“Mitch, what are you doing here?” she hissed.

More than aware he was making a spectacle of himself, he stepped forward and threw his coat around her shoulders. Holding the ends together under her chin, he tipped her wide-eyed gaze to his and stole Tess’s line. “I think you owe me a dance.”

Her cornflower blue eyes flickered with anger and something else—despair? Before he had time to ponder the significance she turned away and apologized to Annie. “Do you mind?”

Annie shot him a
you-better-treat-her-right
warning glare over Becky’s head before giving a reassuring smile to her friend. “Of course not. You go ahead. Besides,” she nodded to the handsome man pushing his way through the crowd, “I think our party is officially crashed.” She didn’t seem too upset by that as Jared swept her up in a searing kiss that turned up the temperature in the room by several degrees.

With a last wistful look at the happy couple, Becky turned to Mitch and the contrast in her expression was like a slam to the gut.

“Shall we?” she said, her tone anything but welcoming.

Some perverse demon riding his shoulder prodded him to force her into admitting their relationship to her friends. The peace-making angel on the other side whispered dire warnings in his ear. He’d only make things worse. She’d never forgive him. He’d lose her forever.

Mitch brushed them both away and forged his own path. He nudged a stray black curl behind her ear, satisfaction curling like warm smoke between them as he registered her involuntary reaction.

“Oh yes, sweetheart, we shall.” And they both knew he wasn’t talking about the dancing.

R
ebecca was in Hell
.

What other explanation could there be for the reappearance of Mitch in her life when she’d worked so diligently to avoid him for the best part of eighteen hundred and eighteen days—not that she was counting.

The divorce papers sitting on the desk at home were burning a hole through her brain, making her ache with things she dared not admit.

He looked amazing, by far the handsomest man in a room full of fine-looking men. His white dress shirt emphasized the breadth of those impossibly wide shoulders, honed to steel by years of honest manual labor. But then she’d always admired that about him. When his football career had come to an abrupt end he could have turned to a bottle and no one would have faulted him for it. Instead he picked himself up, went to a community college, got his welding ticket, and opened a business. Now his work was often sought after from all over the state and his shop had grown from a backyard garage to a fully equipped warehouse on a prime piece of Tidal Falls land. Mitch Taylor was a local success story.

He grasped her hand and she reluctantly followed his lead across a floor now packed with swaying bodies. He didn’t stop until they reached a shadowed alcove off to one side of the stage. When he turned and held out his arms she stepped forward like a lamb, letting his jacket drop onto a nearby chair. The moment his arms wrapped around her and his calloused fingers found the bare skin of her lower back, Becky knew she was in trouble.

Her startled gaze rushed upward and tangled in the molten heat of his amber eyes. The light and shadows created by their surroundings turned his face lean and mysterious and oh-so-hypnotic. Someone bumped into them but she barely noticed, she was so caught up in his aura. It had been like this before—in Las Vegas.

Rebecca tried to pull away, her heart beating double time, an out-of-sync counterpoint to the drums playing on stage. Mitch simply tugged so that she had to grasp the front of his shirt to keep from falling—not that he would have let her. There were many things about Mitch Taylor that bothered her, but she never doubted his kindness.

He bowed his head and rested his cheek against her temple and his voice rumbled through her soul. “It’s just a dance, sweetheart. What are you afraid of?”

Everything.

Him.

Herself.

She gave in and let him win this round. Besides, her body had already betrayed her and snuggled into the protective warmth of his chest.

They were barely moving. Her hips brushing against his hardened thighs left her breathless and aching, not helped by his fingers exploring each curve and valley of her spine like braille.

Her own hands were busy documenting the changes since they’d last known the ridges and planes of a man’s chest. They may have been separated but she’d never once given thought to sleeping with anyone else, even if her marriage was little more than a joke.

Disturbed from her sensual fog, Rebecca lifted her head with the intention of ending this farce. But before she could string two words together Mitch’s lips lowered to hers. All the lights and sounds became a sparkling kaleidoscope and mixed with the sheer perfection of his mouth.

Oh my…

She could die happy right now, in this moment. That wicked, delicious tongue knew where every nerve was located and how to parry and thrust until Becky was utterly lost. She hung on for dear life, eyes sealed shut to keep the world at bay. Every sense was on fire. Her skin prickled, desperate to know the mastery of his touch. He held her so close she could feel his arousal.

Somehow, that helped. Knowing he was as affected by what was happening as she was made her feel less helpless, more in control.

Her arms roped his neck, keeping his head where she wanted him while her pelvis ground shamelessly against his erection, desperate for some kind of release… until the nearby laughter from a couple of women nearby ripped the blindfold away.

What was she doing?

They’d practically been having sex in the middle of the dance floor for crying out loud. Frantic, she tried to push away, her gaze searching for witnesses, and only minimally relaxing when she realized the room was half dark and no one was looking at them. Mitch refused to let her go, and she growled, “Get your hands off of me.”

Slow on the uptake, it took him a moment to switch focus and realize she wasn’t on the same page anymore. Hell, she didn’t even want to be in the same book.

He loosened his grip and took a step back, hands raised in surrender. “Calm down. What’s your problem?”

Seriously?

“You, Mitch Taylor. You’re my fricken problem. But not for much longer.”

She turned, and with as much dignity as a woman on the edge could summon, she walked off the dance floor and into the blessed darkness.