Rescued (A McKenzie Ridge Novel Book 1) (4 page)

BOOK: Rescued (A McKenzie Ridge Novel Book 1)
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Today was much different than those the past few weeks, their routine had been challenged and Sam didn’t like it. Dawson was one of the only EMTs that wasn’t attached, didn’t have family or consistent outside commitments to speak of, so he picked up a lot of the extra shifts to cover for those who needed the time off. He wasn’t going to be at Baker’s because he was picking up a few extra hours to help out one of the guys at the House.

The sexual tension had been building. Far too many times had they found themselves in precarious situations, nearly in the throes of passion, before one of them broke the spell, remembering where they were, just in time. Having public
get-togethers
was their saving grace as neither was much of an exhibitionist, privacy would certainly lead to one thing. They would keep things very public, for now.

Sam craved this regular daily custom, the idea of not seeing Dawson for breakfast left her with an unfamiliar and unwelcome sense of melancholy. She had the day off, her schedule was fairly open, so she suggested they meet for lunch at the pavilion in the park since she would already be over that way. It was the perfect solution, even if it did concern her that she
needed
a solution.

The park was large, several acres, surrounded by the beauty that was McKenzie Ridge—full of nature, views of the surrounding mountains, and of course, lots of people. The pavilion was nestled at the far end of the park, near the local equestrian center, Sugar Pine Stables, that bordered the east side. Not only could you rent rafts, canoes, and inner tubes to take down the creek, as well as rods and bait to fish, but you could also find some of the best hoagies and fried anything in town.

Dawson was elated by her desire to take this non-dating breakfast in a new direction, even if he was somewhat surprised. Even after all this time, and no matter how much she seemed to enjoy their non-dates, she was still pretty guarded with him. He would work on that, but this was progress, even if only slightly. Something in her past really made a mark on her. He briefly thought it was the mother that kept leaving her, but something said there was more to this elusive event that erected walls around Sam. What was she protecting herself from, really?

It was a beautiful midsummer day, clear blue skies, and a gentle breeze to keep the day’s heat at bay. The park was alive with people and nature alike, and mind blowing views of surrounding mountain peaks, and landscapes—the perfect non-date spot. They ordered their food and found a nice table under a large, shady tree, picking up where they left off from their last non-date. The squirrels and birds provided the entertainment, fighting over the food they scavenged for, keeping the afternoon light and easy.

“So what brought you to the park today anyway? You mentioned that you would already be over this way,” Dawson prodded, curious to find out the real reason they were there for lunch, rather than their typical morning meeting.

“Oh, I was next door, at Sugar Pine Stables, I’m there every week.”

“Every week? You ride?”

“Of course I
can
ride, but that’s not why I go.” She shifted in her seat, regretting her reply because she didn’t have a good answer as to why she was really there, if not to ride.

Dawson sensed some kind of unease and hesitation coming from her, like a secret spilled before she could catch it. She promptly tried to reel it in and deflect whatever it was she thought she just divulged. What was there to be uncomfortable about with going to Sugar Pine Stables every week, it’s an equestrian center, lots of people like horses and even volunteer. Perhaps this was part of the wall she had built around her, too personal, she was letting him in faster than she was contented with.

“So you volunteer?”

“No, well, not really. I’m friends with Rene who runs it, and Morgan Jameson goes often, Everly does too for Search and Rescue stuff. I guess it just kind of rubbed off, something we all have in common,” Sam replied, satisfied with her answer.

“Oh I forgot that they had a new person over there—Rene, that’s right. She is so familiar to me, but can’t put my finger on it.” Dawson’s mind wandered, recalling seeing Rene Garcia at Sugar Pine’s, and how oddly familiar she seemed, but the feeling must not have been mutual, because she never gave any indication she already knew him.

“I thought that about Rene too! So familiar, she must have one of those faces because she isn’t from around here.” Sam recalled her first meeting with Rene, it was like running into an old friend from junior high, a serious case of déjà vu.

“Maybe sometime we can go riding then. Have you ever been up the trails along the creek to the peaks? It’s a pack your lunch and ride all day kind of adventure.” Innuendo delivered, Dawson gave her a wink and left it at that.

“I haven’t been up to the peaks. That might be fun,” she countered, making it clear that his message was received and quickly shot down. “So how were your fried mushrooms and spicy mustard, sour dog sausage thing?” She chuckled.

The awkward change of subject and distracting laughter over his peculiar food combination that followed wasn’t lost on him. She really wasn’t comfortable talking about Sugar Pine and what it was to her. He would have to explore that. What was so secretive about the horses, or was it something about the horse stables? The more she became a mystery, the more intrigued he became.

“It’s a beer brat, spicy mustard and sauerkraut, and it was delicious. My dad used to say, ’That’ll put hair on your chest.’ Try one next time!” He said, beating his chest with a closed fist.

A stunned look of familiarity crossed her face at his statement, and was gone as quickly as it came. Interesting. He was missing a piece of this puzzle, a big piece. He didn’t like secrets, but until he could whittle away at that wall of hers some more, it would have to be explored another day.

“Good, it smelled awful. I’ll stick to hoagies, corndogs, and curly fries with lots of ranch dressing—the good stuff, but thanks! You ready to head out?”

***

Always a gentleman, he gathered their empty trays and wrappers and disposed of them while she waited for him next to the table. Dawson had grabbed her hand at some point, as they walked to the parking lot to part ways and say goodbye. She let him hold it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world and completely part of their non-dating routine. The more her mind sent up red flags and warnings, the more her heart reached for her guy. Her guy, she didn’t know when he became her guy or all that it entailed, but she had conceded and decided to live in the moment, for now.

It felt good. He felt good. Sam didn’t know what possessed her to suggest they break routine and meet for lunch. Their shifts had crossed that day, rather than be on par with each other. The idea of breaking their morning routine at Baker’s and not seeing him for the day, actually disappointed her. Before she could stop herself, she had asked Dawson to meet her for lunch in the Pavilion, at the park.

It still wasn’t a date, no, she didn’t date, but a lunch companion is always nice. Sam liked Dawson, in a friends who have coffee after work every single day and lunch when breakfast isn’t in the schedule, kind of way. Friends held hands, and she liked how his big calloused hand felt, wrapped around hers. She wondered where they would feel elsewhere.

That was all she was capable of having with a man, it was all she had room for, and all she was willing to let in. Friends. He was something to be looked at, there was no question there, he was what every good author wanted on the cover of their sexy books. Yes, Dawson was sex, the kind that sells! A lot! So she would stick to having a really smoking hot, sexy friend.

Sam found that he was more than just inspiration when she broke out her battery operated best friend. There was much more to this man, the real Dawson was showing his true colors more and more, and she was enjoying him. It wasn’t just those rippling muscles that hid beneath those t-shirts of his, or how amazing his ass looked in those navy cargo pants he wore for work, or how they squeezed his thighs that made her burn and have to sit sideways, sending her mind straight to the gutter where she could hang out for days.

She wanted to squeeze his ass, and a few other things, how he didn’t burn a smoldering hole through the seat of his pants was beyond her. Speaking of ass and thighs, he would fit well between her own thighs. What on earth was she doing, fantasizing in the middle of a busy family friendly park, holding Mr. Hot Pants’ hand while picturing him between her thighs. She needed to get a grip, or a really cold glass of ice water to dump in her lap. There was more to Dawson. Sure he made her tingle everywhere, but he gave her sweet butterflies too.

Dawson wasn’t a commitment guy. The only commitment he made was to keep his late night callers private. He hadn’t had any late night company since that first morning at Baker’s with Sam. He was a virile man with manly needs, but just couldn’t seem to find interest anywhere but with Sam. It felt wrong to even consider a midnight romp with anyone else, like he was betraying something between them. This was new territory for him, territory he vowed to never explore again, a decade ago. Your heart can’t break if it isn’t invested anywhere, but somehow his heart had forgotten all the rules, so he made a temporary deal with himself to just live in the moment…to see where this goes.

He wanted more from her, to
know
her, not just her body, but
her
, to figure her out. Where did that sass and hard exterior come from, what happened to her to make her so invigorating, yet guarded? He didn’t understand his new desire that was Sam, she was a menace with his emotions. He liked who he was around her, she drudged up old feelings and new ones he didn’t yet understand, he enjoyed how easy she was to be around.

Conversations were easy and she wasn’t impressed by all that charm he laid on, she didn’t buy it for a second, which he liked, he could just be him; she wanted nothing more or less. She was starting to find him just as interesting, as he found her, he thought. She actually invited him to lunch today, and it was Sam that had determined their mornings at Baker’s were a regular thing rather than occasional, only if there’s time. The more he got from her, the more he wanted, and the more he looked forward to having.

A date. He was going to do it, the unthinkable, he was going to ask her on a real date. Not a cup of coffee and apple fritter with half the town, or corn dogs in the park with the squirrels, where they would talk about a mysterious horse hobby, but a real date. Dawson was consistent with his convictions, but this felt right, even if it did break all of his rules, and he was willing to continue bending those rules to get more of her.

***

They approached her car when he turned her around so she was facing him, both arms on either side of her, so close he could smell the sugary sweetness of cream on her breath, which had been left by her dessert. So many times they had found themselves in close proximity, within total make out in front of everyone range, but one of them always pulled back. They were now hand holding friends, but they certainly weren’t kissing friends. Until now, as far as he was concerned, today he was changing that rule too.

Trapped between two enormous biceps, wedged between her car and rock hard abs, with the deepest, wicked, green eyes locked on hers, she began to sweat. Panic set in, this was too intimate, and way too public. She was surrounded by his massiveness and felt safe in his almost embrace. This man was overwhelming in every good sense of the word. Her faith in what was coming next, outweighed her fear and she stared back, inviting his next move.

She was overwhelmed by the scent that would forever be burned to her memory as Dawson—spicy, yet earthy, masculine, but sexy and entirely way too hot. Unable to look anywhere but his eyes, she read his every thought as his eyes darkened and desire was the only thing readable. Anxiety was replaced by dirty thoughts of pressing her chest up against his, tempting him, seeing what his response would be, and exploring that cocky mouth of his that held a scandalous grin. Shocked by her own thoughts, she blushed as he laughed, as if he knew what obscene thoughts were going through her sinful mind.

Assuming he knew what mischief was dancing around in that beautiful head of hers, without even asking the question, Dawson took her response to his proximity as a yes, and kissed her. Long, deep, and hard. Her lips were soft, her mouth hot, he could do this forever. She softened and leaned into him, hands straight to the back of his head, oh yeah, he had read her just right, she was into him, and completely into this kiss. Where red flags and alarms would be going off once upon a time, all he heard now was angels singing, hallelujah.

One arm dropped as his large hand found her waist, paused slightly, before moving south and resting his palm on her ass, pulling her closer so she could feel exactly what she was doing to him. She was overwhelmed with sensations she couldn’t remember ever feeling. She was warm head to toe and her body was buzzing, but more so than that, her heart was dancing. Jesus he was good at this, and probably better at the other things that were racing through her head right now. Crap! What was she doing, they were in the middle of a parking lot, giving a really hot show to anyone interested! She would wave a ‘you’re welcome’ to the fan club when they were done.

She reluctantly broke the kiss and slowly pulled back from the pleasure he gave her, and comfort she felt in his arms.

“So is that a yes?” He asked, still holding her close, with his forehead to hers.

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