Secret surrender, p.7
Secret Surrender, page 7
She turned away again. Maybe he did mean well, but she didn’t owe it to him to reciprocate. “Let it go, Dean.”
“Then at least tell me you don’t regret what we did.”
She paused, growling under her breath, though maybe out of denial that he seemed to genuinely care whether she regretted her choice. “That’s blackmail.”
So why aren’t I leaving already?
“Sarah.” His attention skimmed over her face before latching on to her gaze, his unwavering stare hinting that he saw her dilemma over leaving, or perhaps having to ease his doubts over her regrets… or both… “That night at the soiree. You’ve never done anything like that before, have you?”
Instant cold hit her core. His stare, of course, noticing so much more than she gave him credit for. Because that would be just her luck. And even that knowledge didn’t stop her from trying to deny everything yet again. “That’s not. I—”
“Your hands shook the entire drive over.” He took a giant step closer and crowded her space, though for a big guy, he had an ability to make his voice impossibly small. Somehow his gentle tone soothed and hurt her all at once. “I know what I saw. And as always, even as you say one thing, your body says something else altogether.”
He lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from her barely covered shoulder. Her cheeks burned, and she fought not to look away. He’d noticed her nerves. And his comment about her body… what else had he noticed that night… or for that matter, every other interaction since?
His hand stayed on her shoulder now, searing her with the heat of his palm in collusion with the sultry weather around her. His touch once again awakened senses she shouldn’t have wanted roused.
His thumb stroked the dent just above her collarbone, slow and far too tantalizing circles that pulled a sigh from her, changing her breath to something shallow, soft, and compliant.
“I had a bad night, and you were there.” The huskiness in her broken whisper didn’t fit with the unaffected confidence she sought to show. “Don’t read too much into it.”
She wanted to pull away, but her legs still refused to move. Maybe this was what he meant about her body betraying her.
A distinct weakness ran through her muscles, as if those same muscles hadn’t been strong enough to jog her halfway across town just minutes ago. As if there hadn’t been a time when those muscles had put her on a plane to Florida and on course to work with the world’s top coaches…
And what was with this overly bewitching man and his ability to see through her lame excuses?
For years, she’d fooled everyone. Or at least trained them into playing ignorant. She’d done well to avoid all signs of vulnerability. The people of Harlow knew to assume she was in control. That she was fine. Just fine. And she was fine.
She could take care of herself. Had taken care of herself for as long as she could remember and wouldn’t fall short now. Certainly not over a man.
He nodded, as if he saw something in her. Her doubts. Her defenses. Her ever-present need not to let her mother’s curse repeat with her. And of course, he had something to say on the matter. “I don’t regret one moment of that night.”
She spluttered a laugh, one that caught within the tightness of her throat. “Yeah, well, lucky you. Your first night in a new town, and you convinced a woman to take you home. You hit the jackpot there, buddy.”
She fought an urge to give him a congratulatory clap on the arm and resume her running.
“I did hit the jackpot.” A small smile broke from his lips, the slackened muscles around his eyes denoting a man offering a compliment when he could have belittled her instead.
His kind expression caused a pain beneath her lower ribs. She dropped her gaze to his right hand opening and closing, as though he wanted to touch her again but held back. Part of her wished he would. A greater part saw the foolishness in that desire.
Silence dragged long enough now that his smile faded, and his gaze fixed to what was probably her own worried frown. His attention on her lips made her feel like a moth pulled to a flame. She wanted to draw closer, but still, she knew better than to do that.
“You’re beautiful and I’m amazed you let me get that close.” He paused, pressing his lips together as though he second-guessed what he said. “That’s all I meant.”
Everything within her stilled. What was she doing here, except perhaps willfully bringing about her demise? She choked out her next words. “Are you saying I shouldn’t have?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You just don’t seem like the sort of girl who’d—”
“Oh. Wow.” She held up her hand, signaling for him to please not finish that sentence. “Firstly, I’m not a girl…”
Her heart pounded. Their night together was meant to be just her letting off a little steam, but that night opened up a litany of possibilities she didn’t want to face. What he’d been about to say confirmed another of her fears. That the person everyone thought her to be was one big, fat illusion.
Dean clenched his hands into fists at his side, his jaw momentarily clamping shut. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not a huge talker, okay? Especially when it comes to women.”
As if to unintentionally prove his point, he paused and another inordinately long silence drew out. “All I mean is, there’s nothing wrong with what we did, and I get the impression you’re not the type to let anyone get close—much less a stranger. I understand that our night together might have cost you something.” His gaze flicked up, catching hers. “So maybe cut yourself some slack, and while you’re at it, cut me some too. And maybe… if you’re up to it… give me a chance to get to know you.”
Twelve
“I’m going to need more convincing.”
The unfiltered sarcasm slipped from Sarah’s mouth. Dean’s candid offer—a seemingly genuine expression of interest in her beyond the physical—twigged something. Something she wasn’t sure she should explore.
“Before you bumped into me, I saw how absorbed you were in your own world—or should I say, problems.” His eyes seemed to darken a shade, as though he refused to let her wriggle out of this exchange so easily. “You looked sad, Sarah.”
She tore her attention from him and onto the empty street with its few houses and golden long grass as far as the eye could see. “I wasn’t—”
“And for a moment there, when we left together, you weren’t.” His stare zeroed in on hers, resolute, as though his future truly hung on getting her to agree with his interpretation of events. “In our own twisted way, we got along and you know it.”
Her heart pumped a little harder. His opening up to her did feel good. Too damn good. But she’d been fooled by good before. “We got along, that’s all, and only because I thought you’d never show your face in town again.”
His gaze hardened and he dipped his chin, his lowered stare an unmissable warning.
“No, no, no.” She waved a finger at him. She wasn’t finished. “And then when you did show your face again, you tried to hook up with Ally.”
He rocked back and shot out a dry laugh, ripping his attention from her and up to the heavens. “You’re still thinking about that, huh?”
She gave a forced shrug. “No, not really. You’re free to do whatever you want. I’m just letting you know my eyes and ears are fully functional, and I’m not as naive as you seem to think.”
He crossed his arms, which only made not checking out his biceps near impossible, so she focused on his flat stare instead. “Right.”
His flat tone wasn’t any better, so she added, “Look, I picked you that night because I wasn’t interested in anything complicated—but here you are, complicating things all the same.”
She waited a beat and got nothing from him, so shook her head and spun away.
“I’m not here to complicate things.” His sharp tone followed her as she stormed down the road, the earth crunching beneath each of his hurried steps.
“But you want more.” She refused to look at him and continued her escape. “It was only supposed to be one night, Dean. One night.”
For the longest time, he didn’t speak. Just power-walked alongside her, his movements rigid in her peripheral vision. His silence provided enough of an answer, and she mumbled what she hoped would be their final words on the matter. “Exactly.”
His breaths panted beside her, and she wondered whether the exertion of keeping up wore him down, or perhaps something else. Her rejection. His seeming desperation to convince her he was more than bad news…
“Let me change your mind.”
She barked out a laugh.
Did this guy ever quit? Any minute now she’d pick up speed and leave him in her literal dust. For someone who claimed to be not much of a talker, and even though she’d gotten that impression early on, he found far too many words around her.
His hand landed on her shoulder, gesturing for her to stop, to turn and speak to him directly. She shook him off, though even that didn’t dissuade him. “Listen, you were happy that night. So was I. What’s so complicated about that?”
A dull ache spread though her jaw, one that came from unknowingly clenching her teeth together. She used that clenching to her advantage and said nothing at all.
But even as she took another step, he stepped in front of her, blocking her path with his body, her feet nearly skidding on the rocky earth to keep from yet another collision with his chest. “Not yet. I want to ask one more question.”
She huffed out a hard breath, making her annoyance known. “Fine. Ask.”
His expression remained still and altogether non-threatening, though a bit too serious for someone who seemed to enjoy pestering her. “Are you attracted to me?”
Her brows strained together, and her weight shifted involuntarily back. “Sure, we established that the other night, but if you haven’t noticed, our little moment in the sun is over.”
The tension around his eyes eased, a subtle light seeming to spark at the back of his irises, as though he acknowledged only part of what she’d said. The part about her being attracted to him.
His strong hand grasped her elbow, and he pulled her in. Before she could follow what was happening, his lips hovered close to hers. And his body. Oh, his body brought about all the wrong memories. Or maybe they were the right ones, just at the wrong time. All that firm strength, the solid plane of his chest leading down to his defined abs, his bare arms rubbing hers…
Everything about him set her on fire, and nothing about him reminded her of any man she’d ever touched. He obliterated them all. Even Blaine. And just like their night together, his scorching presence stole every one of her thoughts and cares.
His lips crashed over hers, further scattering her thoughts. She did not care. She simply did not care about anything except how much she wanted him and everything he offered in this moment. He had a vise-like grip that, for the first time in her entire life, made her feel like she could let go a little. He made her heart beat faster, and her eyes slammed shut in the wake of her lax moan.
His hands cupped the back of her head, and he groaned right along with her, satisfied and exacting—that hard embrace dragging her under, like a kraken drowning prey beneath a turbulent sea.
Her mouth took on a life of its own and begged him not to stop because he felt so damn good. Too good. The biggest problem here? Hard and demanding she could deal with. The gradual softening of his lips—his slow, melting, all-too-tender caress—not so much.
And then there were her own reactions. The heat pooling between her legs, a yearning for more than one hot night with him, her muscles sagging and giving into him, expressing a desire that he should never let her go.
Cold reality zipped through her, dispersing the muddied senses that had allowed her to reciprocate his kiss like an infatuated teenager. Out here in the middle of an albeit mostly quiet road.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Breathless and painfully weak, she pushed him away. “Don’t do that ever again. Especially not out here.”
Her jagged tone reverberated through the air, and she looked about, thankful no one had driven past and that they stood between houses with large yards.
“Tell me you didn’t feel something.” Dean’s cheeks hollowed, but his stare refused to let her be, his piercing blue eyes shredding her defenses.
“Just stop. Just stop, okay?” She slapped her hand to her forehead and backed away, her voice tight but raised. “Why do you keep assuming I have to do anything you tell me? Who are you anyway?”
His cheeks paled and he lowered his brow, as if he didn’t like her questioning who he was. Not that she cared, or at least, she shouldn’t have. And still, his stare burned into her, drawing out long seconds before he spoke again. “You want to pretend nothing happened?”
She gave a tight nod, glad he’d scaled his tone down compared to hers. “That’s exactly what I want.”
“You kissed me back. You felt something. And you still want to pretend?” His gaze flicked over her, stirring that low heat within her once again.
Clearly, her body had other ideas. Regardless, she crossed her arms and refused to budge. Her non-reply was designed to say she wouldn’t repeat herself.
He nodded as if he heard the sentiment loud and clear and turned back to where he’d come from—toward the Rudger’s house, presumedly where he now lived since the family had moved interstate not that long ago.
Her arms hung loose at her sides, and her shoulders sagged right along with them. The sweet and dragging call of chickadees echoed back and forth from a nearby silver maple, that dulcet call a jarring contrast to the unexpected disappointment she experienced now.
His leaving was the exact reaction she wanted, but her voice lashed free of her all the same. “What do you want from me?”
He half-turned and peered over, his chin dipped and his forehead creased. “Maybe you could start by not acting like being with me was one big, moronic mistake.”
His words hit her square in the chest, a palpable force she wanted to stumble from. “Fine. Being with you wasn’t a mistake. Does that make you happy?”
“No.” His frown deepened, and he looked seriously pissed. “Maybe you could cut the sarcasm, too.”
She fought her natural urge to defend herself, the man’s powers of observation cutting, as a sliver of lightness traveled up her chest, into her throat, and stopped to tug at the corners of her lips. “Okay… I’ll try.”
She pressed her lips together to keep from saying anything else because, goddamnit, this man had a way of getting more from her than she intended to give. Though as much as she did enjoy sarcasm, she didn’t enjoy hurting anyone. And really, Dean hadn’t done much to deserve her attitude.
Well, nothing but be the temptation I really don’t need…
“And…” He turned his body all the way forward and took a few steps toward her. “I’d be happier if you’d be open to us at least being friendly with each other. It’d be nice to say, ‘Hi’, without my ego taking a bruising every time.”
Just a little proud of her verbal jabs and that they got to him, she hid the sprouting of a smile. “If you can try to stay away from Ally, I can try to think about getting along with you.”
Dimples graced his cheeks, and she continued to suppress a mirroring smile.
“You have a deal.” He drew nearer, and she crossed her arms and offered a playful shrug. “As the woman in this exchange, aren’t I supposed to be the starry-eyed one looking for more than a one-night stand?”
At least, that’s what so many novels and movies seemed to say…
He raised a brow, lips twisted together like he held back a laugh.
Right. She’d already failed to curb her sarcasm.
She held up both hands, then turned to continue her run, which turned into a quick walk since she allowed room for him to join her. “Sorry, I’ll cut it out, and while we’re making deals, maybe you can stop trying to trip me up in front of others? Oh, and promise you won’t tell anyone about our night together?”
“I never planned to.” His relaxed tone held an unmistakable sincerity.
She peered over at him, and her pitch lifted. “That easy?”
He’d given her hell at Maynard’s, and then again at the general store. She hadn’t expected him to agree so freely.
He shrugged, like their whole cat-and-mouse game never happened. “Sure, why not?”
“I just thought you’d… I don’t know…” She frowned ahead, for some reason struggling to admit the next bit. “I figured you’d try to score points with the guys in town. I’m amazed everyone hasn’t already heard.”
“Do I look like someone who cares all that much about fitting in?”
His comment prompted her to actually look at him, and his grin expanded, those cobalt eyes glittering above. His sheer size and generally unperturbed demeanor more than supported his point. She gave a small laugh in agreement and then stared ahead, keeping the silence as they walked.
If only for a while, maybe she could ignore the voice telling her that, “Lonely was best.” Dean here hadn’t betrayed her. Not yet, anyway. No point punishing him for other people’s shortfalls. So, she’d wait and see what he did with what little trust she gave him. Until then, she’d make sure he stayed clearly within the limits of this relationship, and only because he was set on staying in town.
“Friendship, nothing more. Okay?”
She peered back up to his frown, but he nodded all the same, out toward the long and dusty road ahead. “Sure. Now how about we pick up the pace? I wasn’t lying when I said I like a run.”
She quickened her steps, glad for the instant shot of adrenaline, all while not so confident the vow of “friendship” would stop at being friends.
Thirteen
Dean returned home from his run with Sarah to a sheriff’s car parked in his driveway. The sheriff himself stood on the doorstep, his back leaning against a brick pillar as if he’d been there a while just waiting. Dean paused for a moment. Maybe his grab for freedom was over already, and still, the sheriff pushed away from the pillar and strolled closer, his wavy gray hair swept back and his weathered face unreadable.
