With This Ring (Denim & Spurs Book 1) (14 page)

“I didn’t ask for it,” he snapped.

Finn breathed a bit easier. If he was this grouchy, he couldn’t be all that bad off. When it was truly bad, her father didn’t speak to anyone.

“You didn’t have to, Mrs. Pendle is a lovely woman, and you
will
be pleasant to her for staying to help you out.”

“I don’t—”

“Either her or me, Daddy. And she’s nicer than I am, I’ll drag you into the doctor.”

“I’m the parent here, Samantha Mallory Finley, not you.”

“Don’t you Samantha Mallory me, Daddy. If the roles were reversed, what would you do?”

A charged silence before he grumbled under his breath. “Take you to the hospital and ensure you took your pain meds.”

“So, you will do it, you will be nice to Mrs. Pendle, and I will see you when I get home in three days.”

“Love you, babygirl.”

“Love you too, Daddy.” She ended the call and sagged against the powerful chest anchored at her back.

“Everything okay?” Dustin’s deep voice rumbled in her ear as his hands rubbed her arms.

“Yes. Daddy just took another spill and was being difficult, so Mrs. Pendle had to call and ask me for something.” Her heart continued to pound out of control. “Damn, I freaked out when she called me.”

Dustin turned her in his arms so her cheek brushed the warm cotton of his shirt. The steady beating of his heart calmed hers. It didn’t take too much before their hearts had fallen into the same rhythm. Clutching the sides of his shirt, she opened her eyes and gazed around the grounds. The setting sun had given way to the start of night and as they stood there beneath the scattered lights, she watched as the stars came out. First one, then another, then as if someone had scattered a handful of diamonds across the dark velvet cape of sky, it became illuminated by the gentle pinpoints of light.

“Come on, Samantha Mallory Finley,” he murmured.

It sounded odd, hearing her full name on his lips, but she offered up no argument as he guided her back to where the trailer sat parked. She entered first as he held the door for her. Legs still a bit weak she sank down on the sofa.

The clink of a bottle brought her head up, and she found Dustin had placed a beer before her. “Drink.”

She blew out a breath and shoved her hair back with one hand. “Thanks. I think I should cook supper first.”

“Drink. It won’t hurt you. I’ll start on the meal.”

She would have loved to say yes, but she shot off the sofa and grabbed his arm, spinning him back to face her. His intense stare held hers and burned with a fire she knew would set her world aflame.

“I’ll start. You should check on your boys one more time.”

“I have something for you,” he said with a shake of his head.

“What’s that?” Her attention was instantly on him. She couldn’t get over the way he looked standing there. And right now, for the moment, he was all hers.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a smaller box. She set her beer down and took it. Opening it, she gazed inside.

“Oh Dustin, this is beautiful.” Seated upon the white support board was a silver necklace with a horseshoe pendant. She touched it and looked up at him. “What is this for?”

“It reminded me of you.”

She took it out of the box and held it to him. “Put it on me?”

He complied, and she dipped her head to see the pendant resting against her shirt. She couldn’t begin to say how much this meant to her, especially since she figured the last piece of jewelry he’d purchased was the wedding set for Charlotte.

She turned to face him again and pushed up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for this. It means more to me than you can ever know.”

He didn’t speak, just threaded his hand into her hair, angled her head, and kissed her. She went weak in the knees all over again and sagged against him, fingers gripping the fabric that sat taut across his chest. Then the kiss ended and he was gone.

She reached for her beer, held the bottle up to her neck, and tried valiantly to cool down. Nothing helped. She glanced up at the sleeping area and quivered with anticipation. “Focus,” she admonished herself as she opened the fridge and searched for something to make. Why make anything? There was chocolate sauce and whipped cream in there. Surely, she could come up with something using those things that would surpass the need to actually ingest food.

Her body flushed at the thought of him spreading it on her and lapping it off. Locking her knees, she swore under her breath before staring at the food he’d packed. What to make? What to make?

Chapter Eight

Dustin ensured his boys were securely bedded down for the night and left them all with a final affectionate pat. While he spoke to those he passed, he didn’t stop to engage them in conversation, wanting instead to make his way back to the woman who waited for him at the trailer. Samantha.

The night remained hot even though the sun had already sunk below the horizon. Not that he minded, it
was
Texas after all. Slipping from the building, he wove through the lingering people and made his way back to his trailer.

“We need to talk.”

The feminine voice wove out of the dark and surrounded him. He scowled as cold tendrils curled about him. It brought to mind what happens when one falls into a pit of vipers. One knows danger is abound and yet is afraid to move for fear of having a creature strike.

“There’s nothing for us to talk about, Charlotte.” He paused, not wanting this woman near either Samantha or his LQ.

“I think there is.”

She stepped from the shadows. As usual, her face perfectly painted, showing the world the side she wanted them to see. The good side. He wasn’t a fool.
He’d heard the rumors she’d been spreading about him and why
she
called off the wedding. Personally, he didn’t care about that. He was thrilled to have found out her true colors before he tied her last name to his.

“Not at all. I don’t have the time or the inclination to deal with you now. You claim you’re pregnant and carrying my baby. When I’m back in town, we’ll go to the doctor and have a DNA test done. Until then, stay away from me, stay away from my things.”

She crossed her arms and arched one blonde brow. “Does that include Samantha?”

Anger churned in his gut. “Leave her alone, Charlotte.”

The smile that lifted her lips equated to a pit viper sliding around his shoulders and neck, just looking for the perfect place to sink dangerous fangs and unleash potent venom.

“Are you worried for her?”

“There’s no reason for him to be, Char. We both know if it comes down to a fight between us, you don’t stand a chance,” Samantha said, sliding her arm around his waist, her heated body pressing against his in an intimate and comforting gesture.

He hadn’t even known she was near and didn’t want Samantha to hear all of these claims. The thought of losing her before he could actually have her didn’t sit well with him. Charlotte’s expression almost made him laugh. It reminded him of someone who drank turned milk.

“You little—”

“Charlotte!” Dustin snapped.

“Run along, Char. Dustin and I have plans tonight, and they don’t include you.” Samantha splayed her other hand across his chest. “I have to erase all the horrid times he had in bed with you and show him how things should be, you know, how they can be when someone isn’t afraid of getting sweaty, messing up their hair, or anything like that. So run along and find some dumbass to sink your claws into.”

Dustin wasn’t sure he could speak much less what he should say. All he could focus on was the proprietary claim Samantha levied upon him. Her nails dug slightly into him as she issued her statement to Charlotte.

“You will never be anything but a rebound screw to him,” Charlotte snapped.

“Yet, you’ll only be a memory.” She shrugged. “Well, that and a slut.” Samantha hooked her finger in his belt and tugged. “Come on, Dustin. Chocolate sauce and whipped cream awaits.”

The expression on Charlotte’s face was reminiscent of one who smelled an entire batch of rotten eggs. Dustin wanted to smirk at the way Samantha claimed him in front of her, but he didn’t dwell on it. Those two items she’d mentioned created all kinds of images in his mind, and he followed her without a second spared glance at Charlotte. Samantha kept her hold on his belt until she got back to the trailer and opened the door. He followed her in and shut out the warm Texas night.

“Samantha—”

She whirled around to face him, her brown eyes ablaze with…anger?

“Look, what you do with that woman after this weekend is up to you and between the two of you. None of my business. But you came here with me and for all intents and purposes we should have had sex this morning, but didn’t because of Mac’s intervention. I’m feeling possessive,” she pushed him back against the door, “and am not going to be sharing you at all this weekend. You don’t want me in your bed, I suggest you speak now and I’ll leave.”

His pants grew tighter at the words coming from her addictive mouth. With a low growl, he spun them, pressing her against the door and blocking her in with his arms and lower body.

“Does that feel like I don’t want you?” he demanded, rubbing his erection against her belly.

“I don’t know that’s for me. It could be because of Char—”

He kissed her silent. Thrust his tongue deep into her mouth and took her submission. “Her name,” he rumbled drawing back. “Her name has no place where the
two
of us are. This has nothing to do with her and
everything
to do with you, Samantha.”

She reached up and grasped two fistfuls of his shirt, hauling him closer. “Good to know.” Her tongue snuck out and traced along his lower lip. He groaned and bucked against her.

“You said something about chocolate sauce and whipped cream,” he reminded her.

She smiled a siren’s smile. “Supper first.”

Not likely. He lowered his hands to capture her ass and hefted her up. She automatically curled her legs around his waist, anchoring them together.

“Fine,” he rumbled, his face buried into the skin at her neck. “But
you
are on
my
supper menu.”

He didn’t release her until he made it to the queen bed in the gooseneck and laid her back upon the quilt. Her hair fell about her like a silken cloud and her eyes—Lord help him—they were like a kick from a horse to his gut as she watched him.

The only light on in the place was the one in the bed area, soft and inviting, as it played along her skin and curves. It was hard for him to ignore the pounding lust in his veins and take his time, to allow himself to enjoy her leisurely.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” she asked.

“Figuring out where to start,” he replied as he moved down to remove her boots. Her socks followed, and he grinned over the silver metallic paint on her nails with the black horseshoe on each big toe.

“Adorable.” He kissed the arch of each foot. “I didn’t figure you for one who painted their nails.” He laid another few kisses along her skin.

“Nails on my hand chip with work so that’s my way of feeling feminine.”

He flicked his gaze up to her. “Your only one?”

She took her plump lower lip in her teeth and gave him a smoldering look. “You’ll have to discover that for yourself when you undress me.”

Oh, he intended to. He moved up her until they were face to face. “Can’t wait,” he whispered.

The turquoise of her button-down short sleeve shirt made him want to lick the smooth brown skin exposed at the neck. Four buttons, that was all that stood between him and the bounty he sought. While earlier in the day, the shirt had been tucked in, now it hung over and he began at the bottom. One. Two. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her smooth stomach. Three. His mouth watered, and he focused on the fact her breathing seemed a bit strained as well. Fingers trembling a bit, he held them over the final button before undoing it with a deftness belied by his shaking.

The soft cotton fell to the side with the barest of whispers along her skin. It didn’t matter they’d spent the day at a horse expo or visited and watched the rodeo. She still smelt of honeysuckle and jasmine. It wafted from her skin and submerged his senses with its intoxicating scent.

His gaze fell to her bra. Black lace and a bold satin in a purple hue with a bow at the front. The demi bra pushed any possible remaining vestiges of stopping from his head. Dipping his head, he swiped his tongue over the swells above the lace even as his left hand undid the button on her jeans. Holding her stare, he lowered the zipper before sliding back down her body so he could remove them.

His own pants tightened as he drew hers off and dropped them to the floor, never taking his gaze from the long toned legs, which were exposed as the denim vanished.

“Christ!” the word was dragged from deep in his chest as he took in her matching panties.

“Does that answer your question?” Her voice toned low and sultry stroked every single one of his nerves.