Second Dance Cowboy (Second Chance) Page 6

  Dillon slammed his hand over his wet hair, sending beads of water onto his bare shoulders. “I found her here. She must have come in while I was in the shower. No touching occurred, and never will again. I’m not Dante. I have morals and values.” He guessed the sting of his brother’s betrayal remained embedded in him.

  “I understand your anger with Dante, but he loves you and you still love him. Eventually this will all blow over.” Deckland finally smiled. “You should be proud of yourself, Dilly. I bet she didn’t wear the tight shirt and short skirt just for the fun of it.” He laughed so hard it vibrated the walls.

  “I didn’t even notice.” Dillon pulled on his shirt and grabbed his towel off the floor, throwing it over the chair.

  “I bet you didn’t. However, I guess you have a dancing brunette who’s occupying your thoughts. You were at her house tonight, weren’t you?” Deckland took the autographed baseball from the shelf and tossed it up in the air, catching it, then tossing it again.

  Dillon brought his gaze up, landing on his brother in wonder. “How the hell did you know?”

  Deckland shrugged. “Small town, brother. Keep that in mind.”

  “It’s not that small.”

  “Aspen told me.” Deckland held the ball. “Word of warning. I’m friends with her Uncle Marty. I know he wields a shotgun like a third hand. You dirty up those waters and he’ll shoot you and ask questions later.”

  “Do you think you’re talking to Dante?” Dillon huffed.

  “Just saying, bro. And she’s got a kid.” All humor left Deckland’s expression.

  “Did you know this when I mentioned her this morning?”

  “I knew, but I didn’t know at the time that your attention would last beyond a dance or two.”

  “Well, mind your own business. I’m not planning to end up with bullets in my body. I’m a complete gentleman.” Even as the words passed his lips, he knew Peyton might just prove him wrong. How the hell was he going to tell her about the lie he’d told Cassie?

  “Sure you are. A man who hasn’t had sex in two years is anything but a gentleman,” Deckland said.

  “Get out of my room.” Dillon picked up a ruler from the desk and whirled it at his brother.

  Deckland tossed him the ball and jetted from the room.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “UNCLE MARTY, WHERE are you?” Peyton yelled from the front door of her uncle’s house.

  “I’m in here, Pey.” He came from the kitchen, drying his hands with a dishtowel. In the last year, her uncle had started showing his age. His hair was greyer, the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth were deeper and his arthritis was bothering him more—not that he ever complained but his wobbly walk told her all she needed to know. His bubbly personality didn’t falter, though.

  Oliver came bustling through the door behind her, brushing past her and came to a dead stop in front of Uncle Marty. “Can I feed the baby calf today?”

  “Yes you can.” Uncle Marty tousled Oliver’s hair.

  Every weekend Peyton would drop Oliver off at the farm so he could help Uncle Marty with the animals. Although it was a big task taking care of the chickens, cows and sheep, Oliver never complained because the work wasn’t a chore for him.

  When Uncle Marty turned to watch Oliver run into the kitchen, he lost his balance but quickly caught it. Peyton narrowed her eyes. “Are you doing okay?”

  He waved a gnarled hand. “Never better.”

  “If you say so.” She’d learned long ago not to argue with the man. He wouldn’t tell her even if he didn’t feel well. She realized she had to watch for cues of ill health, like the grimaces when he moved a certain way.

  “Are you in a hurry this morning?” he asked.

  “No. I can stay for a bit.” She always liked to visit.

  “Cup of coffee?”

  “I’d love one.”

  Once they each had a cup, they moved to the screened in patio and took a seat on the wicker furniture. Peyton nestled deeper into the cushion and sipped the freshly brewed coffee. The owner of a deli for over twenty years, there were two things he could make better than anyone. Coffee and Reuben sandwiches. “That hits the spot.” She licked the fresh cream from her upper lip.

  “If you moved here you could have a cup every morning.” He wriggled his silver tinged brows.

  She chuckled. “You keep promising me that and you may just persuade me.”

  “I’ll even throw in those sandwiches you love.”

  He was coming out with the big guns now. “Your life would be thrown for a loop, Uncle Marty. Oliver would keep you busy.”

  “And that’s exactly what the doc said I needed.”

  Marty had wanted her to move back. They were the only family they had. She’d refused all of his invites because she wanted to be independent and didn’t want to burden him. Here lately, she was getting the idea that Marty wanted company. “I’ll think about it.” She patted his leathered hand. “Now, I’ve got to go.” She got up and stopped to kiss him on the cheek.

  Finding Oliver in front of the TV, she plopped down beside him on the couch. “I’m leaving, kiddo.”

  “Okay.” He didn’t remove his eyes from the screen.

  “I’ll be back to pick you up later.”

  “Uh-hm.”

  “If the aliens land, make sure you and your uncle make it to the basement.”

  His head turned and his eyes were wide. “What?”

  “Ahh, you are listening.” She kissed him on top of the head. “See you.”

  Once she was in the car, her mind wandered to a certain cowboy who’d visited her dreams last night, for the second night in a row. As steamy as her dreams were, that’s where it stopped. A man who wasn’t over his ex was off limits—and lethal.

  She’d had a crush on Dillon for as long as she could remember, but she needed to keep in mind that like any crush, the image was better than reality. It didn’t matter that he had the dreamiest eyes, flawless olive complexion, beautiful smile, toned body.

  It mattered—a lot.

  He still affected her like none other. Richie didn’t even move her the same at the highpoint of their relationship.

  Pulling along the street in front of her studio, she laid her head against the steering wheel. She needed strength.

  Knock, knock!

  She jumped and shot around in the seat. Her breath caught in her lungs. “Dillon?” She rolled down the window. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you.” His smile lit.

  “I—well, okay.” Her mouth went dry.

  “Were you getting out?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes.” How could she think when her stomach knotted every time he was around? On the drive here, she’d tossed around thoughts of him, and here he was, standing on the sidewalk wanting to speak to her. Closing the window, she opened the door and slid out while nervously tugging at the hem of her shirt. “We can go inside.”

  His hat hung low on his forehead but she could see his pale eyes and they were exceptionally bright in the sunlight. “If that’s okay?”

  “We will be alone. Aspen isn’t in today and I don’t have a class until another hour.”

  Once inside the studio, Peyton discarded her bag on the counter and watched Dillon who buried his hands into his front pockets and shifted his worn boots. Was he nervous? The butterflies floating around inside of her stomach was a good indication her nerves were on edge also. “I’m surprised you’re here.” But I’m not disappointed.

  He nodded and removed his hat. His matted hair made her ache to brush her fingers through the thick locks, but he beat her to it. He ran his finger through the coal-black mass and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ve lied,” he said.

  She blinked as the air left her lungs. “You did? To me?”

  “No, not to you. I need to explain.” He set his hat beside her bag. “Last night I got a visitor. Cassie.”

  “Oh.” Her stomach twisted. “I guess that’s good?” She pl
ayed with a pen, rolling it around her fingers. Did she really want to hear anything more?

  “No, it was anything but good.” He scrubbed his jaw. “She caught me off guard and before I knew what I was doing I told her I was involved with someone.”

  The room closed in around her. The temperature rose and her head spun. She went to the row of chairs lining the wall and took a seat. He had the ability to awaken every cell of her body with one smile, one look. Now was he telling her that he was involved with someone? This roller coaster ride was out of control. “Who?” The word crossed her trembling lips.

  “You.”

  “I didn’t know—what?”

  “I told her that you and I were dating. I’m sorry, but I’d lost my head for a moment. And once I started to correct the facts, I found that I couldn’t. I’ll speak to her today and tell her the truth.” The lines around his eyes grew deeper. Had he lost sleep over this?

  Dizzy, she clutched the edge of the cushioned chair. “You told Cassie that you and I are, well, together?” She needed air, quick. Turning, she opened the window a few inches, sucking in oxygen. It didn’t help. The man was an aphrodisiac.

  “It was wrong…”

  “You had me scared for a minute.” She sighed. “You seemed anxious.” She smoothed her clammy hands down her jeaned legs.

  “You’re not angry?” He sat beside her and she got a strong whiff of soap and coffee. She moistened her lower lip, but what she really wanted was to slide her tongue along the plump curve of his mouth.

  She laughed, not that she thought anything was funny. “Angry? No. I understand what you were doing. You were making Cassie jealous. I don’t know how healthy that is, but we’ve all been there and done silly things.” How could she be upset with him when she knew he still reeled over the betrayal of Cassie’s relationship with Dante? “Easily remedied. Have a talk with her.”

  He brushed his fingers down his face. “I know it was wrong, but I don’t want to clarify the facts.”

  “Because…?”

  “I liked seeing her cross.”

  At least he was honest. “It’s been said that the easiest way to get a person back is to make them jealous.”

  He blinked. “I didn’t do it to get her back.”

  “Things like this can backfire. But, I do understand why you don’t want to correct the mistruth.” A man like Dillon had lots of pride, and although she didn’t like lies, she didn’t like how a woman like Cassie could come between two brothers. “I have something to confess myself.”

  “You do?” His eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you’re still married.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ve carried around a bit of anger toward you over the years because you stood me up.”

  He smiled. “I already guessed as much. You had every right to be upset. I just need you to know that I did forget about the date, but not because it wasn’t important. Dante was in a car accident and we didn’t know if he’d make it. Hours turned into days. Days turned into weeks. When I came back a few months later you were no longer working at the diner.”

  Her heart raced. “I had no clue about Dante. I’m sorry. I had quit waitressing.” She clasped her hands in her lap.

  “Is that when you traveled?”

  “I got on a bus to New York, registered at dance school and, two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant with Ollie. I knew I’d be kicked out just as soon as they found out, so I left and came home.”

  “I’m sorry, Peyton.”

  “Giving up a dream was hard, but it wasn’t a mistake. I wouldn’t give up Ollie for anything. I gave my son life and he gave me a reason to live. He motivates me to be a better person. I just wish his father felt the same way.” Her blood ran cold.

  “What happened? You did marry him, right?” he asked.

  “When I got back from New York, Richie had already left for his tour with the band. I had gone back and forth whether I should tell him about the pregnancy. When Ollie was two months, Richie came back and I couldn’t hide his son. One night over a pizza and sparkling wine, he asked me to marry him. I said yes and the rest is history.”

  “I don’t need to know your ex to nail him as a jackass,” he growled.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because he let you go.” Sincerity filled his eyes and her chest tightened.

  Standing up, she went back to the counter. “Why did Cassie come to see you? Or is it any of my business?”

  “She said we needed to speak. She wanted to explain her relationship with Dante.”

  “And did she?” Peyton knew women and one showing up unexpectedly was suspicious.

  “She wanted to clarify that she never meant to hurt anyone or cause trouble. I didn’t want to hear any of her excuses.” He got up and came to stand next to her at the counter. He leaned on elbows and his arm brushed hers, sending a warm tingle through every muscle. What is happening to me?

  Dillon was happening.

  “Did Dante send her?” She subtly shifted her body, pulling away from the skin contact. Another touch could make her do something crazy, like rubbing his hand or touching the small white scar above his left eye, smoothing her fingers along the toned muscles hiding underneath the thin shirt. Her pelvic muscles throbbed as her panties moistened. She was in trouble. Beyond any doubt, she wanted him, craved his body naked next to hers, to feel him inside of her.

  “He didn’t know she came.”

  “Huh?” She attempted to stay focused. “Oh, okay, that’s serious. Why wouldn’t she tell him she was coming?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. Once upon a time, I thought I knew her. I’ve realized I never knew her at all.” He looked frustrated. She knew what he needed, and she could give it to him. Over and over again.

  She cleared her throat. The A/C wasn’t working fast enough. “What are your plans, Dillon?”

  “My plans?” One dark brow curved.

  “Are you wanting her back or are you plotting revenge?”

  “She’s with my brother and I’m not a revengeful person,” he said.

  “Sounds a bit like revenge in telling her you’ve found someone else. But it’s okay, as long as you understand what drives you. If it’s to spark the flames, that could be bad. If it’s because you’ve been hurt and you’re moving on, then you’re forgiven.” She remembered how she’d felt when Richie left. She’d wanted him to feel her pain, but a man like her ex didn’t feel emotion unless it evolved around himself. Exes sucked. That was something she had in common with Dillon.

  “So it doesn’t make me a bad guy?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Do you have plans next weekend?” he asked.

  “Uhh…depends…”

  “Dante and Cassie’s engagement party is Saturday. I don’t want to go, but I figure this is one-step in letting go and moving on. Will you go with me?”

  “As reinforcement?” Going on a date with Dillon didn’t scream horrible, yet she still wanted to tread carefully.

  “As my date. After all, you and I are dating, right?” He winked.

  He was doing this for an impression. Her excitement faded—some. “I need to check my plans. There’s a possibility I have a hair appointment.”

  “Oh, I see.” The area between his brows creased.

  “I’m kidding, but I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  “I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Maybe I’ll even get a second dance?” He smiled and her heart ticked faster. Question was, could she trust herself to behave?

  “I’ll think about it.” She didn’t want to appear eager.

  “I understand. I’ll call you in a few days. Okay?” He headed to the door.

  Her knees shook and she braced herself against the glass counter. “Talk to you soon.”

  She stared at him through the big window until his truck disappeared from the street. Peyton was a mature, responsible woman and she knew exactly why Dillon had asked her to the party. He wanted to prove to Cassie that he’d moved on—maybe
even prove something to himself. As much as she understood his intentions, being used wasn’t enticing, although being used by a man like Dillon certainly would come with benefits. She practically had to fan herself at the mere thought.

  She needed advice. Grabbing her cell phone from her purse, she hit Aspen’s number. Her friend would help.

  ****

  Dillon finished feeding the horses, tore off his gloves and swiped the back of his hand across his wet forehead. He’d been working the land all afternoon and he was finally feeling some of the tension melt from his body.

  After seeing Peyton at her studio, he’d needed to do something. His fingers had brushed her skin and his zipper had stretched to massive lengths. He’d wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she swelled with desire. He’d done the right thing in resisting the painful urge, although his iron hard parts would disagree.

  He’d wanted to hold her in his arms more than he’d wanted his next breath, but he couldn’t give a woman like her what she deserved.

  Back in Shelby, he’d almost gone too far with Leslie Bakerfield, and thankfully her ex had shown up just in time to keep him from thinking with his dick and not his brain. He liked Leslie, but their attraction had stirred more from loneliness than desire. That was another reason why he’d left Shelby and came home. He needed to stop running and face the demons.

  He leaned against the rough wood of the barn, feeling splinters scratch at his bare back. He didn’t care. At least he could feel something else besides the ache in his groin. He closed his eyes and Peyton’s face appeared on the back of his lids. Damn, he couldn’t get her off his mind!

  Instead of asking her to the party, which hadn’t been his objective, he should have told her goodbye and rode the hell out of her life.

  On the other hand, if he slept with her the satisfaction could exorcise her from his blood. Sometimes a man just needed a sample to ease the hunger. Then he could stop walking around like a zombie with a woody and concentrate on getting his bigger head on straight.

  How could he do that though? She was a mother.