She put a restraining hand on his chest. “You‟re not supposed to fraternize with the guests. Don‟t you remember any of the rules?”
He gave a crooked grin. “Don‟t you remember that I am part owner? Screw the rules.” He shot a glance around. “Besides, no one can see us.”
His head descended and he captured her mouth in a searing, toe-curling kiss. Hunger, passion, anger, and love all wrapped into one emotion as he cherished her lips. He tasted of male and cinnamon. She didn‟t dream of stopping him. She wanted his touch as much as he seemed to want hers. She pressed into him, trusting him fully as he backed her against the tree trunk. Every inch of his body molded against hers, a distraction from the uncomfortable bark biting into her back.
His tongue traced the fullness of her lips, then slipped inside to stroke the contours of her inner cheek. He traced the line of her teeth and the roof of her mouth, swirling around her tongue. Her heart pounded, thudding against him. She arched into his hold, wanting to be closer, forgetting they were just a step away from prying eyes. God, she wanted him. She wanted to drop to her knees and suck on him. She nipped at his lips. Dustin curved his hand around the back of her head, tilting her head so he could have better access. One hand slid down and cupped her ass, holding her firm against his erection.
He broke the kiss and braced his hands on either side of her head. His chest heaved. Shannon flattened her palms on his pecs, feeling each pulse of his heart under the sculpted muscles. She could only
imagine what he saw in her eyes at that moment. She‟d never been good at concealing her emotions from him.
Dustin blew out a slow, cinnamon-scented breath. “We really need to talk.”
Reality crashed in. Right. They did need to talk. But not here, not where anyone could walk up and interrupt them. Funny, she didn‟t care if anyone saw them kissing, but she couldn‟t handle an overheard conversation.
“Shay.” He tilted her chin up. “You know I‟m not a weekend-fling guy. That‟s not what I‟m about.”
No, he wasn‟t. Dustin was a settle-down-and- have-babies kind of guy. He was forever, security, loving even through the wrinkles and gray hair of old age. Thanks to Carolyn‟s example, Shannon had never been a settle-down girl. Now that she owned Gran‟s ranch, could she be that girl he wanted?
“Me, either.” She dropped her hands from his chest to settle briefly at his hips. “I‟d better get to the group. We‟ll talk later.” With a fleeting smile, she ducked under his arm and retreated to the campfire, her heart heavy.
A while later, Shannon sat off to the side, mesmerized by the flickering flames. Every so often, her gaze strayed to Dustin where he lounged on a log beside his brothers. In dark denim jeans, dusty brown cowboy boots, and a red button-down dress shirt, he looked every bit the rough and tumble cowboy. Beneath that chiseled exterior was a heart of gold. Dustin was the type of man who stood up for the underdog, who would give every last penny he owned to help a friend in need. What had possessed her to walk away all those years ago? What an idiot she‟d been.
As if he knew she was thinking about him, Dustin turned and met her stare. With a grin and a wink, he touched the brim of his hat and nodded. Big
heart, but cocky. Her heart tumbled madly in her chest. Oh yeah, she was still in love with him.
Rich, one of the ranch hands, grabbed his guitar and sat not too far from Shannon. He plucked at the strings, and she made out a current pop song. She grinned as Dane got up and started singing, with Rich catching the harmony. Their voices blended well. Funny, she‟d never really thought of doing karaoke to acoustic guitar accompaniment.
Dustin got up from his spot on the log and grabbed a marshmallow and roasting stick. No way could she sit here and watch him eat—licking the crispy, oozing treat. Her pussy clenched, begging to be coated in the melted goo and devoured with slow, tantalizing licks. She groaned and shook her head to dispel the image. Instead, she played the chicken and escaped.
She had to get away from the ranch and away from temptation. She ached for Dustin, but she couldn‟t very well have ripped his clothes off right there in front of everyone. She wanted him, but there was a bit of fear as well. Fear of getting her feelings tossed back in her face—no matter that he‟d done his bit of initiating kisses.
After a quick pit stop at the cabin, she jumped in her SUV and hightailed it down the gravel entrance road. She slowed the vehicle to a crawl at the end of the long drive. The gate beckoned, transporting her back to her youth. Mr. Dumen always assumed kids from town had been responsible for unscrewing the N on the sign—more often than not it had been her and Dustin.
They had been best friends for most of her life. He was the only person she could truly be herself around. He said he didn‟t want a weekend fling, but what if she walked into those strong, open arms and turned out to be just like Carolyn? What if, once she had him, she grew tired of the relationship and
walked out, abandoning those who loved and counted on her…again?
She drove on. Though she‟d intended to drive to one of the bars in Bandera, the SUV had other plans and made the right turn onto the access road for the Rocking P Ranch—Gran‟s ranch.
The ranch house was dark save for the porch light when she pulled up and cut the engine. The last time Shannon had been here was fourteen years ago, the night before she moved to New York. Gran was supportive, as always, only telling her that before she left, she needed to make sure there would be no regrets.
At the time, Shannon had been sure she had no regrets. After all, she had a great career in New York, a salary most people would kill for, and some good friends.
But now, after seeing Dustin again, she knew she‟d been wrong. Could she have pursued the same career in San Antonio? Probably. But at eighteen, she wanted to get out and see the world. She‟d wanted to take Dustin, but he‟d wanted to go to school close to home and stay on the Double D.
Shannon drew a deep breath and slid out of the vehicle. The keys hung from her fingers like lead weights. The front door‟s lock turned easy enough, and she walked through the entry. The house smelled of vanilla, just like Gran. Nostalgia clutched at her heart as she walked the rooms, clicking on lights as she went. The large floral couch still adorned the living room with the stone fireplace dominating the south wall. Family photos lined the mantel.
The gourmet kitchen stood at attention, waiting. She could still see Gran in her “Kiss The Cook” apron, prancing around, baking muffins and basting the pot roast for Sunday dinner. Even in the later months of her life, Gran made a point of sending her
homemade muffins. Tears clogged Shannon‟s throat. God, she missed the old woman.
One by one, she explored the rooms, reminiscing. Everything looked as it had the day she left. Even her childhood bedroom remained pink and frilly—a total girl‟s room. She sank to the comforter and stared around her. Posters of boy bands cluttered the white walls, and her favorite mystery books still perched on the bookshelves. If she closed her eyes, she could easily imagine herself as a little girl again.
The front door slammed shut.
She jumped to her feet, her heart racing.
Someone was in the house.