With This Ring (Denim & Spurs Book 1) (8 page)

Dustin knew the moment she realized he descried her. She had been moving the horse diagonally across the floor in a half pass when she stiffened. Not much later, she swung down and walked her gelding to cool him down. Dustin remained quiet while she removed the tack and led the horse out the other side.

With a frustrated groan, he pushed through and made his way across the sandy arena. He waited for her to leave the stall. The moment she did, his breath caught in his throat, the tight tan breeches molded to her as if they’d been painted on. Her shiny, black tall boots and formfitting sleeveless tee didn’t help his libido any. Her hair had been up in a ponytail, but she’d taken it down while out of his sight. Her expressionless features cut him.

“Something I can do for you, Mr. Kane?”

Impersonal all the way around. He hated it.

Hands in his pockets so he didn’t grab her, he strode toward her. She never retreated, merely observed his progress with a blank face.

“You ran off today.”

“I left one job for another. I hardly see why my presence was needed for your
discussion
with Mr. Walters.”

“About that…why are you shaking your head no?”

“I don’t want to know. I went out with you because I actually liked you, not to be a notch on your bedpost as you get past Charlotte Beaumonde.” He opened his mouth, but she slashed a hand through the air. “No, you listen.”

Dustin rocked back on his heels and let her continue.

“My father busted his ass making a name for himself in this area. I refuse to be part of some
game
you’re playing which may hurt his reputation. I don’t understand what you’re doing, trying to do, or whatever. All I know is I want no part of it. I’m leaving soon so I don’t give a damn if my name is tossed about, it happened all through school, but if this—whatever it is you’re doing—comes back on my father…” She took a deep breath, hands clenched at her sides. “…there won’t be any place you can hide.”

Here was the passion he’d missed earlier.

“Am I allowed to speak now?”

Her glare informed him she wasn’t the least bit amused by his comment. However, he hadn’t been prepared for her pivoting around and making her way back across the arena. Muttering under his breath, he hurried after her.

“Samantha.” She continued on to the slight opening of the barn almost as if she was alone and he didn’t exist in her world. “I have no intention of playing games.” His frustration boiled over and he grabbed her, whirling her back to his chest. “Would you let me apologize?”

Lordy, she sure felt nice pressed against him. Her curves fit like the perfect puzzle piece.

“I don’t need, nor want, an apology from you.”

“You’re getting one anyway,” he rasped. She stared at him, her expression stating quite clearly to hasten along. “I’m sorry for what I said to Connor. How it sounded, the fact I even said it. Everything. I don’t view you how it came out.” She appeared bored. “Say something.”

“Is that it?”

“Is it enough?”

Her eyes narrowed, and he realized he’d just fucked up again. Her words however fell from those kissable lips, calm and unemotional.

“Fine, thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get some sleep. Long day tomorrow.”

He followed her outside and watched in the sliver of moon peeking from behind the cloud as she closed the barn door. He’d apologized, he should feel better. Should. Didn’t.

She walked him to his truck, and he paused before getting in, staring at her in the light from his cab. Lines and exhaustion were prevalent on her face, and he shoved back his own selfish desire to not let her go.

“Goodnight, Samantha.”

“Goodbye, Dustin.” She turned on her heel and disappeared into the house before her words registered in his brain, which had been busy memorizing her retreating form. Goodbye—instead of goodnight.

In his idling truck, he peered up at the ranch house and watched a light come on upstairs seconds before her silhouette appeared in the window. His jeans tightened as she took off her shirt before stepping back out of view.

Goodbye, hell. They weren’t finished. Not by a long shot.

* * * *

“I heard you went on a date with my fiancé.”

The gentle Texas drawl didn’t even begin to hide the venom coating the words. Finn closed her eyes and prayed for strength before she continued putting groceries in the backseat of her cab. She should have known at some point this would come about.

“Morning, Charlotte.”

“Morning? That’s all you have to say to me? You are such a slut! Trying to take my man.”

It’s just Charlotte. I should let it go. I
really
should. She was this way in school, always calling me a slut even when I went out of my way to avoid her. Heaven help me for even speaking to a boy she’d had her sights on. Then came the endless tormenting from the ‘popular cheerleaders’ until she felt her point had been made.

The last bag in, Finn shut the door and faced her former classmate. She still looked like a China doll, perfectly coifed, nothing out of place. Hell, dirt didn’t have the guts to land on her. Finn fought the urge to roll her eyes. Draped in jewels and the latest fashions, Charlotte wore the equivalent in cost to Finn’s truck. Of that, there existed no doubt.

“Should I say something else?” Finn questioned.

“Always were dense,” she muttered. “Yes. Why were you out with my man?”

Finn crossed her arms and rested back against the door of her Dodge. “Your man?” She pursed her lips slightly and gave a small shake of her head. “I’m sorry, which groomsman are you talking about? You do get why I need some clarification, right? There were
four
in there with you that day, weren’t there? Or did I miss someone else?”

Flames flickered in Charlotte’s blue eyes. “You know damn well who I mean. Dustin Kane, my fiancé.”

“Oh, sorry. You can understand my confusion, given how you spread your legs for so many. Dustin. I went to dinner with him, not that it’s any of your business.”

“If you slept with him…” She stepped forward, eyes tiny slits.

A cold smile lifted Finn’s lips. “Careful, Char, you don’t want to dirty your clothes.” She closed the remaining distance between her and a woman she’d never liked. “Unlike you, I have no issue getting dirty and as you so often enjoyed pointing out in school, I come from the wrong side of the tracks. You know you wouldn’t stand a chance of defeating me.”

“Stay away from him.”

Finn didn’t respond. She had nothing else to say. The status of her and Dustin’s relationship wasn’t any of this one’s business.

“I’m watching you,” Charlotte bit off before flouncing away in a cloud of perfume and jewels.

“
I’m watching you
,” Finn mimicked, rolling her eyes.

Once in her truck, Finn headed for the ranch. Dustin Kane. Great, now he was on her mind again. And after she’d spent the past week learning to forget him after his “apology.” As far as those things went, his had sucked. Big ones. Hairy ones.

Not that it mattered, she hadn’t been after him for one. Sure she’d be lying if she said it hadn’t hurt—the words she’d overheard—but she’d moved on. Men said things to their guy friends, women did the same to their close friends. She didn’t, but to be fair, she didn’t have anyone she’d consider close enough to share with. She had friends, sure, but she stayed too busy to cultivate anything deep with them. And to be honest, she had no time to play the games many did.

Her outlook remained simple. A person was liked or not. She’d gotten that attitude in school as the outcast child who didn’t have a mother at home. Her goal was to make it through the day laden with insults that her dad was sleeping with her housekeeper, how he’d killed her mother and that’s why she’d disappeared without a trace, and more. Given as that was her day, she was picky with her friends and who she allowed into her ever so small circle. Her closest would have been Laciee Dupree; if someone had it worse than her, it was Laciee. Didn’t mean Finn couldn’t be a bitch like some may claim she’d been to Charlotte but hey, she
was
human. It happened. That being said, when it came to dealing with Dustin, there lingered no hatred toward him.
Sure, it’s not because you’ve lusted after him for so many years? And that’s why you’re cutting him some slack?

She snorted at her brain’s commentary. Shifting gears, she turned up the drive and made her way to the house. Her father made an appearance as she folded the last of the reusable bags and stored them in their proper place.

“You were up early today, baby girl. Everything okay?”

“Fine, Daddy. Couldn’t sleep so eventually gave up trying. Got up and took care of the horses, then I was at the store when it opened. I know you have an appointment today, when is it?”

“Ten. I don’t want you to—”

“Enough, Daddy. I am not missing any work. I’ll take you, and we can have lunch in town after.”

“You do know there are some days I’m convinced you’ve forgotten who is the parent and who is the child.”

She hid her smile. “Only some? Remind me to talk to the doc about your meds.”

“You’re not too old for me to turn over my knee, young lady.” His threat lined with laughter didn’t have the desired effect. She snorted, and he waggled his finger at her. “Who taught you manners? When did you get so lippy? Mrs. Pendle?”

“Yes, right, I’m sure it was.” She grinned at the thought of their tiny housekeeper allowing her to act unruly. “Shall we ask her?”

Her father’s eyes widened and panic leeched into them. “No, no. No need to do that.”

“We know who runs this household,” she said.

“Everyone knows,” her father stated. “And it’s neither of us.”

No denying that truth. She walked to his side and kissed his cheek. “Come on, Daddy. We’ll stop at the bakery first.”

“Now you’re talking my language.”

He began his trek to the door and she watched him go, moving much easier than when she’d first got the call. She slid her hands in back pockets and trailed after the man in her life she loved more than anything.

* * * *

“Thank you, Doctor,” Finn said, shaking his hand. Her father stood off to the side flirting with some nurses. “I’m glad he’s well on his way.”

Dr. Stephen Matts nodded as he readjusted his stethoscope around his neck. “Good to see you back here, Finn. He’s blossomed so much since your return.”

She swallowed back the guilt, which raced through her at those simple words. This had been weighing on her for a while now, and her father’s accident only amplified it.

“He would have recovered anyway.”

The man who’d been her physician gave her a stern look. “You’re his baby girl, nothing better than family to be around when you’re recovering.
You
being
home
is the
best
medicine for him.” The gleam in his eyes told her it was pointless to argue with him about it further.

Instead, she gave him a smile followed by a peck on the cheek. Then she headed to collect her father, who still flirted, so they could grab some lunch. In the parking lot of the main diner, Marley’s Home Cookin’, she stared at the sign. Old, cracked, and in need of some good work. Didn’t matter, the sign could fall down and everyone would still go there.

“Coming, Finn?”

Damn, she’d never even heard him leave the truck. “Yes, sir.” She scrambled out after him and held the door to the diner.

“Afternoon, y’all!” Marley hollered as they entered. “Good to see you up and out, Evan. And you, Miss East Coast. Been back all this time without a visit. Shame.”

Finn blushed. “Good to see you, too, Ms. Marley.”

Blue eyes bore into hers as the woman stuffed a pen behind her ear and shoved her pad in her pocket. “Humph.”

Finn sat across from her father without bothering to check the menu. Items didn’t vary here. Marley hadn’t changed the menu since Finn was in school. She knew what she wanted.

“Y’all ready?”

Marley served coffee to her father, placed some tea before Finn, and gave her a soft smile. The woman looked nearly the same. Her bouffant hair now gray where it had once been a shimmery brown. Her five-four frame carried a few more pounds, but the eyes were still sharp and she still had a commanding air about her.

In this small town divided by both class and color, Marley’s had been a safe haven for all. Simply put, the woman didn’t tolerate any shit, no matter whose last name they carried. No one ever wanted to challenge Marley on it and had behaved.

“Hot roast beef sandwich for me, please,” Finn said.

“Never change, do you, Finn? Always the same.”

“No one makes it like you, Ms. Marley.”

“Come back home n’ you can have it every day.”

As her father ordered, Finn wondered why it seemed everyone was pushing for her to return back to Branchwater. She shook it off, this place was her past.

“What’s on your mind, Finn?”

Sipping her tea, she smiled. “Nothing, Daddy.