With This Ring (Denim & Spurs Book 1)

A man whose wedding day was destroyed by betrayal meets a woman from his past who begins to renew his belief in true love and with her in his life, he may be willing to try that step once again.

After calling off his wedding on the day of, rancher Dustin Kane meets a woman who’s in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’s in no mood for company, but she’s different and makes him feel things he shouldn’t. By the time she leaves him, he’s more intrigued and wants to see her again.

Samantha ‘Finn’ Finley had returned to Branchwater, Texas for the sole purpose of helping her injured father. Running into the man she’s loved since high school was never part of the plan.

Drawn together time and time again, neither can ignore the sparks between them. When it comes time for her to leave, will Dustin be able to let her return to her new life or will he do all he can to get her to come back to where she belongs, home…with him? 

With This Ring

Denim & Spurs

by

Aliyah Burke

MF,
INTERRACIAL ROMANCE,

WESTERN CONTEMPORARY

Twisted E Publishing, LLC

www.twistedepublishing.com

With This Ring

A Denim & Spurs Book

Copyright © 201
4 by Aliyah Burke

Edited by Marie Medina & Dawn G

First E-book Publication: September 2014

Cover design by K Designs

All cover art and logo copyright © 201
4, Twisted Erotica Publishing, LLC.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

To my readers, thanks so much for coming on yet another adventure with me. To
 the staff at TEP thank you for allowing me to be part of the family. To my hubby, I love you. And, as always, thanks to the men and women who serve this country! 

Lunch hour maintained the same horrid monotony from day to day and year to year. Samantha kept her head down and searched for a spot out of the line of fire. She was on her own today, which made her a bigger target. Some days it worked. Most days it didn’t. From the looks and sounds of things, this was going to be
most
days.

She’d just sat beneath a large tree, taking advantage of its shade offered, and opened her brown paper sack. There were no fancy lunch boxes or money for a school meal. Mrs. Pendle always fixed her something delicious though, no matter what it was wrapped in.

She looked around her, taking stock of how the lunch area looked. The same as normal except for one difference. Across the way was the one boy she enjoyed seeing. It probably wasn’t fair to call him a boy for he worked his father’s ranch and certainly didn’t act like a kid. Dustin Kane. If she had one wish in this world, it would be that he would notice her. Well, more than that one time he’d stopped to speak to her back when… No, she wasn’t going to go there. It didn’t matter now. She took one final glance at him, appreciating the way his jeans fit him and the tight shirt he wore, which showed off his well-earned muscles.

Balancing her sandwich on her bent knee, Samantha slowly unwrapped the waxed paper from around it. They also didn’t have extra money for the little plastic baggies either. A cold meatloaf sandwich, cut in half so she didn’t have to struggle with any plastic silverware.

She’d just bitten into it when she felt someone standing over her. Swallowing the food that didn’t seem to want to go down, making her blink back tears, she looked up.

Charlotte Beaumonde and her little group of cheerleaders. She twirled a piece of her long blonde hair and sneered. “Well, well, if it isn’t the little bitch who has no mommy. If you weren’t so ugly, she might have stayed around. As it is, you’re not, and she ran off. Then again, people say your father killed her. So now is that true?” Her eyes widened, but there was nothing nice in them. “Are you the daughter of a killer?”

Her fellow cheerleaders followed her lead and began a chant. Samantha looked back at her food, the desire to eat long gone. She knew her father hadn’t killed her mother, knew it firsthand. But she didn’t need to listen to this until she graduated.

“You know I’m not, Charlotte,” she said, tightening her grip on her sandwich.

“I know nothing of the kind. You live on the other side of town. They need to have a school for you and your kind so our school stays pristine.” Her words were drenched in spite.

Samantha, who normally stayed calm and didn’t look to pick fights with anyone, felt a fire burning in her gut she wasn’t sure she could contain. She forced it down best she could, firmly aware her father wouldn’t be happy if he had to be called from a job to pick her up from school.

Her food was snatched away. “Hey!”

“Eww, who eats this?” Charlotte peeled off the top piece of bread and dropped it to the ground. “Cold meatloaf. Cheese. And ketchup.” The meat fell to the ground. “Oops, I’m sure you can still eat it. You wouldn’t know the difference if there was dirt on it or not.” She crouched down and picked it up and smashed it in Samantha’s face, grinding the dirt and food into her mouth, mashing some past her lips.

The surrounding laughter was the catalyst that launched her.
I will deal with Daddy and my punishment later.
This abuse and bullying had been going on since first grade and now, here she was in ninth. Samantha had had enough. Balling her hand into a fist, she let it fly.

Consequences be damned.

Chapter One

Branchwater, Texas

The moon’s rays filtered through the pearlescent, fine-spun gauzy sheets, which hung over the platform he sat on, surrounding him with glittering light. Scents of gardenias, wisteria, and lilies—he knew because he helped set all this up, and after spending so much time around the flowers, he’d learned to identify their smells—swirled around as the night air floated across the Texas landscape. The gorgeous compilation had set the perfect backdrop for the planned wedding. In his periphery he could see matching swags that lined the seating area where more than four hours ago over three hundred people had sat, waiting for him to marry Charlotte Beaumonde.

A harsh laugh escaped him. Right now, he should be on the flight to St. Lucia for his weeklong honeymoon. With his bride. Only now, there was no honeymoon and
definitely
no bride. He took another swig from the beer bottle and stretched out his legs, resting his back against a corner pole. The silver glint from the tip of his otherwise black snakeskin boots caught his eye.

“Hell.” Dustin Kane finished the beer, set the empty beside him, and opened another. He readjusted and sat up, the bottle dangling from his fingers between spread thighs, forearms upon knees.

A shadow passed across the aisle, momentarily blocking out some light. He glanced up to discover a woman bending over a chair, hunting for something on the ground. Her skirt rose high on the backs of her thighs, exposing darkened skin.

It wasn’t as if he recognized her, although from the view he thought part of her was hot. Embitterment pressed him, and he frowned. Why was someone spying on him? Hadn’t he kicked everyone out?

“Lose something, honey?” he drawled with more than a hint of irritation.

Her scream was real enough as she tumbled off the chair and into a few others. “Crap!”

Guilt niggled at him. Perhaps she wasn’t there to spy on him. Shoving to his feet, he went to find her. She lay on her back tangled in about five chairs, staring up at him with a startled expression on her face. Large eyes and full lips snagged his attention.

She didn’t speak again, just began shoving chairs off. He lifted the ones off her legs and found himself picking up another mixture of scents in the air. Honeysuckle and jasmine, he recalled his mom growing them alongside the house when he was younger. Subtle and extremely arousing.

“Are you okay?” He crouched beside her.

“I’m fine. I…I didn’t mean to disturb you. I didn’t think anyone would…” she trailed off, rolling her lower lip—that plump, enticing lip—in her teeth.

“Be out here?” Another short burst of sharp and non-humorous laughter. “Sorry to disappoint, I had plans to be heading for my honeymoon. Didn’t turn out so well for me.” He opened his mouth only to think better of what he was about to say and snapped it shut again.

His mystery woman stood up, shaking out her dress—a shade of blue he couldn’t quite make out because of the night. She wasn’t with the wedding party, of that much he was sure. So, that left his side and he really didn’t remember her. Another swallow of beer and he stood as well.

“Who are you? You’re not one of the bridesmaids, wrong dress style and don’t take this wrong, but you’re not exactly the kind of woman Charlotte would associate with.”

This woman had a great body, curves in all the right places, yet he could see the strength in her, whoever she was. She sat on a recently righted chair and crossed her legs. Great ankles and sexy shoes. A pixie.

He must have drunk more than anticipated for he was really thinking what it would be like to kiss her, unbind her hair, and discover the texture of her skin. Dustin wasn’t sure what to expect as her reaction to his statement, but her laughter wasn’t it. It pealed from her like a bright light bursting through a dark cloud.

Great, now he was waxing poetic. Way past time for him to stop drinking and get to sleep. Or was that drink until he passed out? Either way the waxing poetic thing…needed to stop.

“Trust me, I’m well aware of her
type
to associate with and the fact I’m not it. I’m from the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. Then there’s the fact I’m black.” There was no anger in her statement, more like easy acceptance and he liked that. Refreshing.

He skimmed her once more. “Yes, you are. Delightfully so.” Another truth. Maybe not something he should have said however. He tried to focus so he didn’t come off sounding stupider than he already did. “Who’d you come with to the wedding?”

“Brad Thornen.”

A friend of his from school. How did she know Brad? In addition, how did she know Charlotte? She waved one hand and leaned forward to touch his forearm. Electricity raced up his spine at first contact.

“It’s not important. Look, I know it’s really none of my business, but since I thoughtlessly interrupted your solitude, if you want to talk…”

Her offer hung in the air.