With This Ring (Denim & Spurs Book 1) (22 page)

Images of Charlotte with his groomsmen flashed furiously before his mind’s eye. She’d told him there was nothing to worry about, that her flirting was purely harmless.
Look where that ended up.

“So you want to be like Charlotte? I come all this way for you and all you do is talk about another man and how you can touch him.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Don’t compare me to that slut. I’m nothing like her.”

“Really?” he sneered. “Mike. Rolf. Gunnar. Judd.”

Samantha shoved to her feet, the chair squeaking as it skittered behind her only to topple to the floor. “So you’re telling me I’m like her because I
work
around men? Really? That’s the best you got? How the hell is it any different than the women who throw themselves at you at the Expo or hell, even in Branchwater? It’s not.”

“I’m not fucking them.”

“Yeah? Well, neither am I.” She stomped away only to turn back. Her eyes blazed. “I’m not even dating anyone. As you so eloquently put it to Connor in one of your barns about you being able to fuck whomever you wanted to, so can I. It is my business. Not yours.” She went to the partition where he assumed her bed was behind, grabbed the edge then glared at him over her shoulder. “Not to mention there is one huge difference between me and that bitch of a woman.
She
was your fiancée.
I
, on the other hand, am
not.
”

He could have been standing naked outside in the winter weather and had a less shocking revelation at her statement. Blowing out a calming breath, he relaxed his stance and looked to where she’d been. Gone.

She was right. She wasn’t his fiancée, but he wanted her to be. Lowering one hand into his pocket, he fingered the bracelet he’d had with him since the moment he’d found it. He’d wanted to see her, hold her, kiss her. But more than that, he wanted to slide a ring on her finger and be able to call her his wife. His lover. His best friend. His.

She reappeared, and he gave her a lopsided smile, which she didn’t return. Her gaze was dark and angry.

“Let me explain.”

“I have work to do. Goodbye, Dustin.” She went to the door and shrugged into her jacket. “Close the door on your way out. Have a safe trip back to Branchwater.” Just like that she was gone. He ran to the door and jerked it open. She’d covered a good amount of snowy ground. The storm’s intensity had increased as well, and he shut the door as he reached for his own coat. He turned back seconds before he left again, went to her kitchen area, righted her chair, and left something on the table before walking out. No way he was giving up so easily.

* * * *

Finn was exhausted. Night had long since fallen, and she wearily trudged her way back to her apartment. As she walked, she squinted through the falling snow to see if she could locate Dustin’s large green truck, but she couldn’t see much past her fingers and truly had no hope of seeing it, even were it there.

As pissed as he’d made her, she couldn’t believe he’d actually come all this way. Rolling her eyes, she opened the door and stepped inside to the welcoming warmth. She noticed two things immediately. First, she smelled food cooking and second, that heavy black duster still hung on the hook where it had been when she’d left.

Worrying her lower lip, she shrugged out of her snowy coat and hung it up. Seriously, her place wasn’t all that big, if he remained, where was he? She moved behind the partition to her bedroom. No Dustin. That left the bathroom. She grabbed dry, clean clothes and went to the door. It sat open. She did a complete three-sixty and shook her head in confusion. Something wasn’t quite right.

Moments later, she stood naked beneath the heated streams of water falling from the showerhead. Despite her longing to tarry and take a long shower, she kept it short. Stepping free, she dried off and dressed in her waiting clothes. Thick gray socks bearing the purple raven of the Baltimore Ravens, purple Ravens brushed fleece sweats with raw-edge hems and an oversized black long sleeve sweatshirt with a dark purple weathered screenprint of the Ravens name and logo on the front. She kept her hair pinned up off her neck and opened the door to step back out into her small place.

The rich scent of the cooking meatloaf had her stomach rumbling with anticipation. Her front door opened, and she found herself staring at Dustin, his black button-down covered with snow. Crazy man had gone out without his coat on. In his right hand, he held a pie as he closed the door behind him with his left.

His cobalt gaze held her prisoner. It took a few moments for it to sink in that Elvis played in the background.

“Thought you were leaving,” she commented.

He set the pie on the counter and moved toward her. His expression one she couldn’t read.

“It occurred to me,” he began drawing her into his arms. “I never told you why I came.”

He felt so good against her, she didn’t even fight to push him away, just allowed him to settle her where he wanted. Her anger toward him had long since dissipated. It wasn’t fair, and she knew that. But she couldn’t stay angry with him, even when he acted all alpha and stupid male, beating his chest and not speaking with any sense. Resting her cheek against him, she shuddered at the cold that hit her before he began to warm.

“Aren’t you going to ask me again?”

She sighed and shook her head, inhaling deeply on the scent that made her dreams all the more erotic. The man’s touch was heaven.

“No? Let me tell you then.” He drew her close, his hands along her waist. “I missed this woman who’d become such an important part of my life. I made a mistake the final night she came to see me.”

Finn stiffened. She’d no plans to relive that night. The wide spread of his fingers clenched a bit of her sweatshirt, refusing to let her back away.

“Not in the mood to know about you and Charlotte, Dustin.”

“Listen to me, Samantha.”

“No.” She pulled back and stared at him. “I don’t have to.” Tearing free of his intoxicating touch, she backed away. “You said how you feel earlier.”

He reached for her, and she shook her head, retreating another step. Dustin frowned.

“That’s not how I feel.”

“Really? I seem to recall you comparing me to that slut of an ex-fiancée of yours.”

“Let me—”

“I can’t do this, Dustin. You’re my weakness, have been for years and it’s…it’s not healthy for me.”

“Damn it, Finn! Let me talk.” She stared up at him, eyes wide. “What?” he asked.

“You called me Finn.”

Skirting the table, he backed her up to the counter, blocking her in with his arms.

“You seem to answer better to Finn. It doesn’t matter. Finn. Samantha. To everyone else, you’re Finn, but to me, you’re Samantha. They’re who you are. A woman who didn’t allow me to fall into a well of self-pity. A woman who I yearned to see every day on my ranch, still do. A woman who I know has held affection for me almost all her life.”

She bit the corner of her lip and lowered her gaze. Leaning closer, he flicked his tongue along the whorl of her ear, bumping each earring as he trailed over it. Her belly clenched as a pool of heat gathered in her gut.

“We’re good together, Samantha. Really good.”

“You thought you were good with Charlotte as well.” It would be so easy to give in. She couldn’t do that. Had to stay strong. Right?

“I was telling her that I would sue her and her father for slander if they ever came after me again with these false claims. We went to a doctor, and she wasn’t even pregnant.”

“And if she had been?”

He paused and made an eye connection. “I would have been there for my child. Not Charlotte. My child.”

“I’ve seen that not work out so well for some.”

“I know about your mom leaving, Samantha. And I’m sorry, but not everyone will do that. Some people are just bad all the way around.”

She broke the contact, not wanting him to see the pain that still bothered her more than she cared to admit. “So you came all this way to what, tell me now you are well aware and believe in the fact I was crushing on you through school?”

“Still are.”

His tone smacked with arrogance and smugness. Although, as much as it bothered her, he had hit the nail on the head. Not to mention that damn sexy smirk he had was like a get out of jail free card for him. At least with her. It didn’t help she wasn’t an angry person as a whole, she just never held a grudge. Too much time and energy wasted in doing so. She preferred to let it go and move on to something that actually held importance for her.

“Doesn’t mean it’s good for me.”

His hand slid around her waist, drawing her flush against his rigid frame. “I beg to differ, darlin’. We’re excellent for one another.”

Her eyes didn’t want to stay open, lids continually fluttering as she struggled with the urge to just give in. “Is this some sort of joke?”

Familiar strands from one of her favorite Elvis songs began to fill the room. Dustin stepped back and brought her with him. He held her as if they were on a dance floor and began swaying with her in his arms as “And I Love You So” played.

Finn allowed everything else to be suspended for a time. The reason he came, her unreliable behavior when it came to him, her pain over seeing Charlotte at his place, any of it. All of it. Gone. Her lids drifted shut as she pressed her cheek to his chest and listened to the recognizable lub-dub of his heart. Talk adjourned.

“No joke, darlin’. Not a’tall.” His low voice thrummed over her. The song had moved to another, but he continued to hold her.

If she were a dreamer or fanciful, which, let’s face it, she was when it came to him, she would imagine he held her as if she mattered. Damn it all, she didn’t want to open her eyes and face the issues at hand. She liked this little world where it was only him. And her.

“You know that day you told me happy birthday.”

Dustin frowned a bit at the change in conversation. It took him a minute to remember the day she spoke of. It had been a hot summer day where most people had sought the relief offered by any shade. He rubbed her back. While he didn’t seem sure what prompted this directional change, he seemed fine with it so long as she continued opening up to him and sharing. Talking. “I’d overheard a few other kids talking about it after school and when I saw you on the street looking so sad, I said it. Why? Wasn’t it your birthday?”

She took a shuddering breath, latching her fingers tighter into the cotton covering his upper body. “No, it was. I had actually just watched my mom drive away after telling me she couldn’t do it any longer. I wasn’t enough for her to try and stay in Texas, on a ranch. A poor ranch at that. She took me to town after school and left me. I’d been sitting there for about an hour, waiting, hoping, she’d come back.”

“Shit. She abandoned you on your birthday? Why didn’t…” he trailed off.

She didn’t blame him, really what could one say to that? Licking her lips, she readjusted her weight so she pressed even tighter against him.

“My old man was an ass.”

“I know, I met him. I think you were dating Lucy Cranich, or she was angling to become your next girlfriend. Either way she was my ride home only she decided to go to your house first. Your dad didn’t want to let me past the foyer.”

“Christ, I’m sorry.”

“Not telling you to get sympathy, Dustin. Just…I don’t know.”

He lowered his head, and his breath warmed her ear. What the hell had possessed her to share such a thing with him? Oh, right. Many people in town had seen her mother pull up to the curb, set her out only to drive away. She’d be foolish to think none of them knew what that had meant. No one said a word to her. Not until Dustin spoke to her.

His kindness to her at that moment had changed her appreciation of his looks to something deeper. Richer. Binding. That moment when he’d placed his hand on her shoulder and wished her a happy birthday, she’d fallen in love with him.

“You wanted me to know, Samantha.”

She ran her hand down her face and stepped back. The timer dinged, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, for dinner.” She reached up to tuck some hair behind her ear only to pause when she realized it was a futile effort and one she hadn’t needed to do.

“This isn’t over, Samantha. After we eat we will discuss
us.
”

She jerked to a halt and struggled to get her composure. “There is no
us
, Dustin.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t know each other.”

“Really? You don’t think we know one another?”

He removed the food from the oven and shut off the appliance. His eyes were intense when he turned back, so much so she gulped and nearly stepped farther away.

“You think we do?”

“What’s my favorite color?” he asked pulling down some plates.

She rolled her eyes, that was easy. “Dark green.” She sniffed and brought a pitcher of water from the refrigerator. “Like that…um…truck of yours.”

He cocked a brow. “Something wrong with my truck?”

“Oh no,” she assured him. “I’m just a Dodge girl.” The salad followed the water to the table.