Undeniable (11 page)

She still hadn’t figured out where the disappointment had come from. He’d given her what she wanted: A good fucking. That should’ve been enough. And it was enough. She knew that. She didn’t need to be cuddled. She didn’t need his comforting weight, or to be soothed by his breathing beside her.

What she did need was to put her finger on the reason why her plan to work him out of her system wasn’t the quick and easy setting one more piece of her past behind her she’d thought it would be. On the one hand, she didn’t mind. Sex with Dax… Where to begin?

It wasn’t even about his body, which he used so well, or about the orgasms he never failed to deliver. Defining what made sex with Dax seem like more than sex was beyond her. And looking too hard for an answer made too much of their physical compatibility when that was all she was interested in.

But that same compatibility had put a kink in her well-laid plans. And that was the part she
did
mind. She’d worked hard to shed where she’d come from. And she didn’t want anything—or anyone—to get in the way of where she wanted to go from here.

Then again, she really should lighten up. What she had with Dax wouldn’t last forever. Crow Hill was too small for them to go their separate ways, but it was her home, not his. Honestly, she didn’t give him more than six months before he ditched Boone and Casper and returned to parts unknown.

Nope, she was done with insecurity and instability. And soon enough she’d be done with the black sheep who’d come back to
claim a worthless piece of land—not for a woman he’d looked right through the last time he’d seen her and would forget once he was a mile down the road.

Figuring the kitchen to be at the rear of the two-story ranch house, she ignored the strange twist in her midsection and hopped onto the porch. She pulled off her sunglasses and pulled open the screen door, stopping once she’d taken a step inside. Huh. The kitchen looked abandoned, as if Tess Dalton had been the last person to use it months ago.

The room was cool, though stale and musty; obviously, the window unit rattling above the antique sideboard hadn’t been on long. The floor was dull and dusty, the countertops, too. A dish drainer held a plate and a coffee mug, and a faded floral apron lay draped over the lip of the sink.

She swallowed, caught off guard and saddened by the sight, then startled at the sound of an indrawn breath. She wasn’t alone. Someone sat at the head of the table, arms crossed on the covering’s cracked yellow plastic, face down, hair spread around her shoulders in a honey-brown fan.

Arwen stepped closer, spoke a soft, “Hello?”

The other woman’s head came up. It was Darcy Campbell. She’d been sleeping, or crying, or maybe both, and she took several seconds to focus before offering a weak smile.

Weak enough to set off an alarm and urge Arwen forward. “Darcy? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I guess I fell asleep.” She swept her hands over a face that was pink with the sun and devoid of makeup. “What are you doing here? What time is it?”

“It’s almost seven. I brought supper.” Arwen gestured with her sunglasses toward the door. “But I’m thinking I’m in the wrong place.”

“I know, right? I thought the same thing when I got here. I expected either a sink full of dirty dishes, or a trash can full of beer bottles and bologna rinds.” She sat straighter, took in the kitchen. “It’s like no one has been here in months.”

Arwen’s impression exactly. “Are the boys sleeping in their trucks? Or the bunkhouse? And why, when they have this house?”

“I don’t know. I was going to find Dax and ask him. But after I plugged in the a/c, I waited to make sure it wasn’t going to short out the whole room.” She gave a small laugh. “Next thing I know, here you are, and the day’s half gone.”

The other woman’s explanation did little to dispel Arwen’s concern. Tossing her sunglasses to the table, she pulled out the chair at a right angle to Darcy and sat down. “Are you the one driving the Lasko truck?”

Darcy gathered her hair away from her face, twisted it, and held it against the back of her head. After several seconds with her eyes closed, she let it go and nodded in answer. “It’s a ridiculous soap opera of a story.”

No doubt it was also the reason she was alone in a deserted house, perspiration and tears dried in streaks on her face. “I’ve got time. If you want to tell it.”

“Trust me. It’s nothing.”

Arwen wasn’t having it. “It’s not nothing if you’re out here in one of the Lasko’s trucks, sleeping on a kitchen table in a very nice suit that, if you don’t mind me saying, has seen better days.”

Smiling absently, Darcy smoothed her skirt down her thighs. “I ran into Josh while walking in town. I was going to have him take me back to the office for my car, but he convinced me there was no need to risk seeing The Campbell. That I should just use his truck.”

The Campbell?
Oh, yes, of course. Wallace Campbell, Esquire. Never mind that Darcy had been walking in town to avoid him. “Is this about your dad and his dad and the lease that never was? Y’all butt heads or something?”

A deep vee appeared between Darcy’s eyes. “Seems everyone in town’s heard about it by now.”

Arwen nodded. “I pour shots for a lot of locals who can’t stop talking once they’re drunk. I knew weeks before she died that Tess planned to lease the place to Henry.”

“Then you probably know about the incident in the Blackbird Diner the other morning.”

Nope. That was a new one. “Gossip mill must be running slow, though Dax did tell me he met you there.”

“You saw Dax? When?”

“He was at the feed store when I dropped off a lunch order last week. And he was in the saloon a couple of nights ago.” She didn’t mention that he’d also been in her tub, in her bed. In her. A flush swept through her body, and her voice caught when she asked, “Why?”

“Just a little surprised. He seems to be sticking close to the ranch. He was back almost a week before I found out. I actually heard it at your place from Luck.”

Oh, right. The sneaking around. The hat pulled low. The drinking in the dark corner of the bar, ignoring the dinner crowd and the dancing Kittens. Ignoring everyone but her. Then sleeping in her guest room. Waking her up with the prodding tip of his cock before leaving.

She reached for her sunglasses, toyed with the earpieces. “You know how it is when a new guy hits town. Female antennae start twitching.”

Darcy gave a soft huff. “With my workload? My antennae
don’t pick up much chatter. See above re hearing about Dax from Luck. I don’t even remember any buzz when Greg arrived. No one calling for details or fix ups or anything.”

“I imagine the interest in the Dalton Gang boys is more about who they were in the past. The girls have definitely been speculating about the new and improved versions.” Arwen wondered… “You know that leaves Greg wide open.”

Darcy didn’t even hesitate. “That’s not going to happen.”

“You’re not interested? Really? He’s amazingly hot, you know.”

“Guess you have to work with him to see beyond the
GQ
pinup material. Not that there’s anything wrong with his being a pinup. He’s just not my type.”

Arwen thought about Josh Lasko’s truck parked outside. “Are you more into… Wranglers?”

A slow-to-come smile softened the stress lines on Darcy’s face. “Josh is a good friend. That’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Arwen asked, because she didn’t believe it for a second.

Darcy canted her head to the side and gave Arwen a steady look, one brow arched pointedly. “Didn’t you say something about food?”

“Oh, crap.” Arwen hopped up, dug her keys from her pocket. “I forgot. I brought the boys some barbecue and fixings. Kinda felt sorry for them after hearing how hard they’re having it.”

“Faith’s budget is not making it easy on them, that’s for sure. It’s gotta be pretty tough finding out the place you’ve inherited is going to be more work than it’s worth.”

Arwen settled her sunglasses in place. “Hearing that, I can understand why Tess was going to lease it out. At least the boys can provide most of their own labor.”

“I wonder how long they’ll stay,” Darcy said, echoing Arwen’s earlier musings as she got to her feet. “C’mon. I’ll help you with the food. Might as well bring it in here.”

The screen door opened just then, and she and Darcy both looked up.

The man who stood in silhouette wasn’t Dax, that much Arwen knew, and her disappointment was unaccountably heavy.

He wasn’t as lean and rangy as Dax, but neither was he as big as she remembered Boone Mitchell being in high school. This one’s shoulders were wide, his arms and especially his thighs powerfully muscled. A rodeo cowboy, not one who’d spent the last sixteen years working ranches, and returned to Crow Hill to do the same.

Casper Jayne.

He took off his hat, scraped his hand over the buzz cut of his dark blond hair. “Darcy.”

“Hey, Casper.” Darcy was the first to move, wrapping her arms around his neck and rising up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, smiling. “It’s like Christmas came early this year, all of y’all gone so long and all back at the same time.”

“Takin’ some getting used to on our end, too.”

She pulled back, ran her hands down his shoulders, straightening his shirt, mothering. Or sistering, Arwen supposed, watching Darcy tend to the man who was twice her size. “You’re looking good. Or at least a lot better than Dax.”

“Having seen more of your brother than I care to, I’m not sure that’s a compliment.” He lifted his gaze from Darcy’s, glanced over her head at Arwen. “I’m guessing from the Hellcat Saloon truck outside that you’re Arwen Poole.”

Yeah, because he wouldn’t have remembered her otherwise. She came forward, offered her hand. “I am. We may have passed in the hallway at school a time or two.”

He nodded, resettled his hat after letting her go. “Did I hear you say something about food?”

“In the truck.” She started toward the door where he was still standing. “You’re welcome to help.”

He took a step out onto the back porch, held open the screen door, followed her and Darcy down the steps to the truck. The wood creaked ominously beneath the fall of six hurried feet, and dust from what once was the yard rose in clouds to coat their legs.

The state of things got Arwen to wondering if the house had been left alone because the guys couldn’t afford the needed repairs, or if there was a deeper sense of respect for Tess and Dave that had them bunking elsewhere—a thought she filed away as they reached the truck.

She handed off the larger, messier pans of beans and barbecue to Casper, loaded Darcy up with potato salad and loaves of Texas toast, and brought up the rear with the hot peach cobbler and wheeled five-gallon cooler of iced tea.

Weighted down with the small feast, the three returned to the kitchen where Arwen arranged the food on the table. Then she grimaced. “I meant to bring disposable plates and utensils. Are there enough dishes here to use?”

“I have no idea,” Darcy said, turning to Casper and waiting.

His gaze moved between the two of them before settling on the steaming aluminum pans. “I guess Dax didn’t tell you we’re staying out in the bunkhouse.”

Good grief. Men. “Do we need to load back up and take this over there?”

But Casper was shaking his head. “There’s no table. Only a couple of chairs. We do a lot of standing up. Or eating on the porch.”

And on the porch would mean in the heat. Sounded like things were worse than she’d thought. “Well, we can take things over
there, or I can let down the tailgate and we can use the bed of my truck. Or we can stay here. Your call.”

Blowing out a heavy sigh, he pulled off his hat again, tossed it to a counter, then scrubbed both hands down his weary face. “No. It’s dumb not to use the house. It’s our place, though hard to think of it that way. Or look at this kitchen and not expect to see Tess whipping a wooden spoon almost as fast as any beater I’ve ever seen.”

Arwen stared at the sweat gathering on top of the cobbler pan. She’d only known the Daltons as the couple who’d employed the boys. But Casper’s poignant memory… Her chest tightened with the realization of what Dax and the others were going through, coming back here when everything they’d known and loved was gone.

“I’ll find the dishes,” Darcy finally said. “Since they’ve been sitting awhile they may need to be rinsed.”

Yes. Something productive. “I’ll help. Casper, maybe you call the others? Tell them chow’s on?”

“I can do that.” He backed out the door, hat in hand.

Arwen looked over at Darcy as she counted out forks, knives, and spoons. “I’m not sure I ever knew how close the boys were to Tess and Dave.”

Darcy nodded. “I think during his senior year, Dax spent more time over here than he did at home. And honestly I can’t blame him. Those last few months before graduation were not happy times.”

Arwen remembered. None of what went on at the mansion on the hill was happy. She wouldn’t have known details, but she did recall returning to school in January after that last Christmas vacation as a senior. The rumblings had darkened the hallways even before the ringing of the first period bell.

Did you hear about Dax Campbell? He’s not going to law school. Told his family at Christmas dinner. His father nearly shit
a brick. First Campbell male in five generations not to join the family firm. He wants to cowboy. Man, he’s cracked.

Puzzle pieces shifted and clicked, and Arwen’s tummy tumbled. What a complicated man she’d taken into her bed. What a strong man, standing up to all those expectations, knowing himself and what he’d wanted at an age when it was all she could do to get herself to school for fear her father would forget about her and vanish while she was gone.

She cleared her throat, started loosening the crimped edges of the tops to the pans. “It can’t be healthy for them to keep this place as a shrine, or whatever it is they’re doing.”

“Agreed,” Darcy said, closing one drawer, opening another. “I’m going to see if they’ll let me pack stuff, do some cleaning. At least get rid of the Daltons’ personal things.”

“You have time for that with the hours you work?” Arwen asked, knowing Darcy was right. It needed to be done. “You probably put in more time than I do.”