Unable to Resist (30 page)

Taking another bite of steak, chewing incredibly slowly, he swallows and bats his beautiful eyelashes at me in a silly manner. “Everything is our thing, Red. I think you’ve ruined everything for me. Everything has a memory etched in your honor.”

Setting my food aside, I pull my hands under my chin. “What do you mean?”

“From my work boots and my jeans, to my truck and music, you’ve somehow planted a memory for every single thing I’ve come into contact with since I met you. Hell, I’m sure every time I go into my office, I’ll think about you sitting in a chair with your cute cutoff jeans and college t-shirt. You were so nervous, yet so fearless. You’re kind of incredible.”

I flush and look down at my lap. I’m hardly fearless. I was scared shitless to set foot in my hometown. I mean, sure, I did it, but I was only half as brave because of the man sitting across from me.

His hazel eyes are shining more green at the moment, and they speak to my being. He gives me the nerve to pick myself up out of my bed in the morning and make life work. He’s given me a reason to live.

Him. It’s him.

This thing, this feeling, it has to be real.

It’s in that moment I don’t care about the fact that our emotions have been heightened in the past week, and that we’ve learned to lean on each other in tough times. I couldn’t care less that we still have to go home and face life. I don’t care that my stupid inner voice is shaking her head at me telling me to take it slow.

I need him. He’s the air in my lungs. Scratch that, he is my lungs.

We get up and pay the check. It’s well past eight at night, but I’m feeling too wired to sleep. “Babe, mind if I drive? All that coffee got to me.”

Standing outside the convertible, Duane snakes his arms around me and nuzzles my neck. “You can have anything you want.”

My arms, without a second thought, wrap around his strong, muscled body and I breathe in his manly scent. Even after all of this time away from home, I can still faintly smell alfalfa on his clothes. I need to bathe with whatever body wash he uses, because good God.

With his face against my neck, he quietly whispers, “You are mine, Red. I can’t share you.”

Does he really think I’m not his one hundred percent?

I snuggle closer into his chest and smile. “Yours.”

I’m diving into the ocean with this man. There is no deep end for me. I’m just plunging straight into the abyss. It’s the only way to go with him. I’ll gladly float, or sink, for him.

This. Is. It.

We let each other loose and I turn for the driver’s door. Settling my hand on the sleek door handle, I take a moment to center myself. Being around Duane makes me jittery—in the best possible way. My whole body is on high alert, ready to make this man happy, any way I can. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and settle in the seat.

“Ready to go home?” I ask as I pull out of the parking lot.

Duane puts his hand on my jean-covered thigh and squeezes. “As long as we are there together, hell yeah. Let’s go home.”

My heart does its little flutter thing that makes me think I might have a heart attack, and I gun it onto the freeway, having to concentrate extremely difficult on the task at hand.

The first couple hours on the road, Duane and I sang to the radio and played ridiculous travel games. There weren’t many cars on the road, being late at night, so we had to make up our own rules. With my eyes full of happy tears, we laughed our way through Oklahoma.

Around midnight, I told Duane to get some sleep. Wrapping his hand around mine, he quickly fell asleep on the pillow I stole from Jason’s house. With an open road ahead of me, I turn on the local country station and sing my way down the interstate.

Eight hours later, in the very early morning, Duane yawns and stretches in his seat, smiling sweetly at me. “Hey, Red, you’ve got to be tired. Let me drive.”

It’s almost four thirty, and I’m still on some sort of high, I begin to tell him I’ll keep driving when he pins me with his intense stare.

“You need to sleep. It’s almost been twenty-four hours. Pull over at the next off ramp and I’ll get some coffee.”

Geeze, bossypants.

I want to protest, every cell in my body is telling me to put this man in his place because I’ve never been one to let a man tell me what to do, but as his eyes soften, so does my attitude.

“You know I only want you to be rested, baby. It’s been a long week. Let me take care of you,” he begs.

His words break down another wall, and I accept his offer by pulling into the next gas station I see.

With a quick, sweet kiss, Duane runs inside while I fill up the car. And, in a few minutes, we’re back on the road with me in the passenger seat.

This is going to seem so anti-feminist of me, but I like it like this, with him taking care of me. Taking control.

Since Kyle, I’ve been on my own. I’ve made every difficult decision myself, with no one to fall back on. Liv was around to be there for me, but I’ve always felt like I held the weight of the world on my shoulders. I was doomed to live my life alone. So, knowing Duane wants to take care of me makes the feminist in me want to give the bird to anyone who says they don’t need a man to be there for them. I call bullshit.

Everyone wants to feel loved. Everyone wants to feel wanted. Everyone wants to be
the one.
I feel all of that, and so much more, when I look into Duane’s eyes.

“We’re about to leave Little Rock, Red. Get some sleep.”

When I wake five hours later, we’re just outside Nashville. I must have been tired. The sun is shining brightly through the tinted windows of the car, making me reach for my sunglasses.

“Mornin’, Red,” Duane says as he breaks at a stop sign. His mouth is lifted to the side slightly as he takes in my morning appearance.

I’m sure I look just lovely. Ugh. I quickly comb my fingers through my hair to tame my lion-like locks.

I look over at him and smile. “Hi, babe. I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”

Duane puts the car in park and before I can slip my sunglasses on, he grabs my face, bringing his lips to mine. I know I should be worried about morning breath, but the moment he kisses me, all logical thoughts fly out the metaphorical window and I simply go with the flow.

He kind of makes me forget my own name.

When we break apart, Duane’s lips are red and his cheeks are a bit blushed. It’s good to know I can do that to this big, sexy burly man. Lord knows he does it to me.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to kiss you. This past week seemed to go so fast. I needed to make sure you’re really here.”

Crimson covers my face, and I grin at him. “And what was your conclusion?”

Duane brings his hand behind my neck, guiding me back for another kiss. When we’re millimeters away from touching, a car behind us blares its horn.

Both of us snap our heads in the direction of the honker. He or she, I can’t tell with the tint on the car, is waving furiously inside the cab, motioning for us to get out of the way. I finally look away when he/she decides to flip us off. We spurt laughter, and Duane puts the car in drive and presses on.

We drop the rental car off at the airport and pick up his truck. The drive back to the shop is silent, both of us in our own heads.

As we pull up to my shop, dread settles over me. I don’t want to leave Duane. I’ve been with him every day this past week. Even though he only slept next to me the one night after I met up with Brent, knowing that he was only across the hall made me feel at ease.

Sleeping in separate rooms was his idea, not mine. I was more than pleased to fall asleep with him every night, but the southern gentleman insisted that he do right by me by sleeping elsewhere.

I should have been happy he at least decided to stay at Jason’s and not that stuffy hotel. Don’t get me wrong, I was glad. If I had a choice to have him around me, I’d want him around as much as possible, but having him sleep, mere feet from me, possibly naked, had my mind running a mile a minute—in naughty directions.

Every night I’d toss and turn, silently praying for him to slip into my room and be with me, but he never did. Do I understand why he didn’t? Of course. Do my lady parts understand? Not so much.
She’s
starting to get antsy. We may claim to be a proper lady, but the longer we spend with Duane, the more we want him.

He pulls into the same spot he did a week ago, right next to my truck, and turns off the ignition. “Well, Red, welcome home.”

I smile at the word, ‘home,’ and force my eyes away from Duane to look at my shop. With tables and chairs sitting in the front, my ‘James Place’ sign hangs just over the door, inviting customers in. Through the glass I can see the wall of books, and the comfy couches.

Home.

“It’s good to be home,” I state. “I’ve missed this place.”

Duane brings his lips to my forehead and kisses softly. “Let’s get you settled in.”

I nod my head in agreement, and wait for Duane to open my door.

See? I’ve learned.

He watches me curiously from his side, and I quirk an eyebrow. “What?”

Duane exhales with a smirk on his face and shakes his head. I shrug a shoulder because I know what he’s thinking. He’s waiting for me to reach for the door handle, and I am not going to do it…even if I am tempted to reach just to see him squirm.

Duane laughs to himself and exits the truck. He swings my bag out of the bed of the truck and sets it on the ground before he opens my door. The door creaks as he opens it, and he offers me his hand. “My lady.”

I swing my legs out, then take his hand. We walk into the front entrance of the shop, and the sweet smell of cupcakes greet me. A squeal from the back breaks through the silent chatter of the customers.

Giggling, Liv skips into my arms and wraps her tiny self around me, clutching for dear life. I stumble back at the force of her hug, but Duane catches me from behind with his hand on my back.

“I’ve missed you so much, noob! Welcome home.” Liv screeches when she lets go. She holds my hands in between us and surveys my appearance. “You look great. Peace looks good on you.”

My eyes shift to Duane. He’s smiling from ear-to-ear, watching the spectacle that is Liv.

Liv looks over at Duane, who still has his hand on my back. Under Liv’s intense stare, he shifts closer to me, and I instinctively move into his embrace. I watch Liv eye Duane from top to bottom, sizing him up.

We sit in this staring-awkwardly-at-each-other state until Duane clears his throat and snaps Liv out of her haze.

She laughs awkwardly, which is odd for her considering she is not one to get embarrassed. In her tight black leather pants, zebra shirt and ankle boots, she looks very posh. She pushes a strand of her light blonde hair out of her face and rubs her right hand on her pants.

“Oh shit, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” She sticks her hand out and addresses Duane. “I’m Olivia. Everyone calls me Liv, though.”

Duane lets go of my waist and moves forward to shake her hand. “Hey Liv, nice to meet you. I’m Duane.”

Liv’s eyes move to me with a look of
oh we are so talking about this when he is gone
, and I clear my throat.

“I’m sorry the last time you were here we couldn’t talk. We were slammed, and I didn’t want to keep you two,” she adds.

Duane laughs lightly and combs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, last week was a little crazy.”

He moves back to my side and wraps his arm around my shoulder. We gravitate toward each other.

Jason had said something like that to me the other day. We had Brent and his mom Nora over for dinner, and the three of them were outside talking while Jason and I filled drinks.

“You guys are like two pieces of metal,” Jason had said. “If one moves, so does the other. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but it’s incredibly good to see someone so in tune with you.”

Liv huffs in agreement at Duane’s crazy-week statement and puts her hand on my arm. “How are you doing?”

My head leans on Duane’s chest and I grin. “I’m great. Glad to be home.”

It’s all over. Things couldn’t get much better. In the span of a week, I’ve dealt with my demons and fought them to the ground. I’d won.

Holy shit. I freaking won.

I went to war with my nightmares and came out the victor.

“I’m glad you’re home. Mia should be here in a few,” Liv says, looking around the shop.

Duane shifts and picks up my suitcase. “I gotta get back to the ranch. Aiden text me and said a few horses got out and they can’t find them.”

My heart sinks. He needs to go. Those poor animals are out there somewhere, and a huge storm is about to roll in. As much as I would love for him to stay, he needs to go do his rancher-thing.

Reading my thoughts, Duane says, “I guess there’s a storm coming. If we don’t find them in time, we could lose them.”

A few customers walk in. Liv smiles at the two of us, squeezes Duane’s arm and leaves to tend to them.

I lead Duane up to the loft and turn into his arms as soon as he sets my suitcase down. “I’m going to miss you.”