Second Dance Cowboy (Second Chance) (7 page)

In the
meantime, she’d prepare herself for walking the straight line. No ogling him like he was a fresh piece of meat. No touching…not even a brushing of body parts. No divulging of personal information or thoughts. Just a friendly thank you dinner between old acquaintances.
Easy.

An hour later,
with dinner finished and Oliver taking a shower, Peyton mentally patted herself on the shoulder. She’d accomplished a civil dinner between friends. They’d talked about the weather, football, soccer and politics—nothing personal.

It wasn’t until
Dillon had cleared the table that she felt a crack in her wall. Not used to having help, combined with him being close, was almost too much to handle. Each time she got a whiff of his masculine scent she wanted to lay her head on his shoulder and feel his arms wrapped around her. She knew where that would lead. Somewhere very, very good but oh-so- dangerous.

“I’ll get those,” she said when he started
pouring water in the sink and putting dishes in.

“I don’t mind.”
He continued. “I’ll even wash.” He gave her a smile that did awesome things to her nerve endings.

“I have a dishwasher.” The kitchen was small—too small for one brawny
cowboy who smelled of mint and man.

“I like using my hands
.” He winked.

The
temperature rose and sweat beaded between her breasts. She clicked on the ceiling fan and hoped it worked in record time. “If you insist.” Arguing would only make her hotter.

While he
washed, she pretended interest in making coffee, but uncontrollably stole glances of the soapy water running over his large hands, his muscles coiling under his shirt, the way his bottom tightened in his nice fitting jeans. An image popped in her head—his thick fingers smoothing across her bare skin, awakening the neglected places and fondling—

“Peyton?”

She jerked and the tablespoon of coffee granules shot in the air, spilling all over the counter.

Oh, Lordy!
He wasn’t fiddling with the dishes any longer. His eyes were on her, his brows lifted over curious eyes.

“Yes?” Could he see her thoughts?
She’d been caught in man candy-land.

“You
turned on the power but you haven’t filled the container with coffee.” He chuckled.

“Oh, I-
I guess I didn’t.” Alone with him and actually processing thought at the same time didn’t work. Not when her mind was preoccupied with fantasy sex. She could feel the blush wash over her skin as she clumsily measured the coffee granules. Once she hit start, it began to brew, and so did heavenly desire in the pit of her stomach.

****

Dillon knew he should have left by now. Peyton had excused herself to put Oliver in bed and he should have made some lame excuse that he needed to water the dogs or get to bed early. Instead, he’d stayed and was scanning the row of framed pictures on the side table and mantel. Most were of Oliver alone, several of him and Peyton together. He wondered why there was none of Oliver and his dad.

Taking his cup of coffee to the couch, he sat and waited.
A few minutes later, Peyton was back, sitting at the other end of the small sofa. “Is he asleep?” he asked.

“Almost.” She tucked her bare feet up under her bottom
, exactly where he’d like his hands.

“Where’s his fath
er, Peyton? Are you two not together?” Should have been a question he’d asked the moment he realized she had a kid. He didn’t take Peyton as the type to cheat, but he also didn’t want to step on any toes.

“No we aren’t
, and for the first question, I have no clue. He doesn’t stay in touch.”

“
He isn’t a part of his son’s life?” He never could understand how a parent could leave their kids, but he knew it happened. “Oliver seems like a great kid. Any father should be proud.”

“
Ollie is a wonderful boy.” She seemed hesitant in revealing too much information. He understood.

His chest tightened. Peyton was a single mom and he could only imagine how difficult that must be. A larger part of him wondered how a man could let her
go. Women like her didn’t come along often. “I owe you an explanation. About the fight with my brother—”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Her tongue swept out and moistened her bottom lip. He wanted to help her. He wondered what she tasted like. “You still have feelings for your ex, and
perhaps want her back. That’s all the explanation needed.”

He opened his mouth but slammed it shut. Had she said anything that he could deny? He guessed he did still have feelings for Cassie. They’d been close once upon a time and he wasn’t the type who could switch on and o
ff his feelings. But getting Cassie back wasn’t going to happen. She’d gotten engaged to his brother, and although Dante didn’t have a lick of sense or loyalty to family, Dillon did. He’d never betray someone he cared for. “She’s engaged to my brother.”

“I’m sorry. I know that must be difficult to digest.” She
shifted and he could see her hardened nipples under the material of the thin dress.
She’s a mother!
He needed to keep reminding himself. “I’m sure you felt betrayed.”

“And that’s why I hit him. I saw him with Cassie and it ripped through me. It’s something I’ll come to terms with eventually.”
In the meantime, I’d really like to get to know you better.

“
I understand. I guess it took me a long time to get over Richie, not him as much as the disappointment of still loving him when he didn’t deserve it. Too bad we can’t choose who we love, right?” She sifted her fingers through her hair and it fell like silken waves back onto her shoulders. He was glad she’d taken down the bun. Hiding something so beautiful was a crime.

“I may be overstepping a personal boundary here, but what happened between you two?” There was no maybe about it, he’d gotten personal.

“He wasn’t ready to be a father, or a partner for that matter.
His drums took priority and, when he joined an up and coming band, nothing compared to the fame and glory. Eventually, life on the road became more pleasurable than life as a family man. Three years into our marriage, I divorced him.”

“His loss.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t see things quite that way.” She sighed as if to release all thought of the past. “By the way, just for the record, I can pay for our groceries. I’m just not very good with balancing my checkbook. I used to think I’d learn the skill, but I was mistaken. Thankfully, Aspen is much better with bookkeeping for the studio.” She laughed, but he noticed her cheeks turned a soft pink. He realized she was uncomfortable and he wanted to make it better for her.

“
That’s why I carry cash. I stay clear of plastic because I’d make a mess.”

“Thank you. I didn’t say thank you, but I am.”

“No problem.” He scooted to the edge of the cushion. “I should go.” He didn’t want to, but he reluctantly stood up and headed to the door. She followed him.

“Once again, thank you.”
Biting her bottom lip, her eyes glistened in the dim outside light.

“Thank you for dinner.” What does a man say to a woman when he doubted he’d see her again
, but he wanted to? Maybe ask her out? That was too fast. He couldn’t drag her into his confusion. They could be friends though.

“Are
you okay?” she asked.

“Sure…no, I’m thinking, maybe we can see each other again. That is if you don’t mind having a man as a friend.”

She laughed and he enjoyed the sound. “The town’s only so big. Maybe we’ll run into one another.”

“I guess so, but it probably won’t be at the grocery store,” he said. Then
he was turning and heading down the narrow walkway back to his truck. The six-pack sitting on the front seat was looking better by the second.

He rolled into his own driveway just as the rain started. He jumped out and ran to the porch
, but by the time he got inside, he was soaked. The house was quiet. He guessed Deckland was with friends and he assumed Dante was where he’d been last night—with Cassie.

Climbing the stairs two at a time
, he went straight into the bathroom, stripped off his wet clothes and jumped into the hot shower. The pelting water against his tight muscles felt good. He only wished it could do something for the tension inside, but no amount of water could wash away his need for a beautiful woman.

Now
he’d learned that certain woman had a kid. He thought back to the night he’d gone to the diner where she’d worked. They were the only two in the place. He remembered hot coffee spilling on his legs and bland apple pie. That was okay because the unforgettable conversation with Peyton had been his only interest.

He’d
split up with Cassie and, although he hadn’t been looking for someone, Peyton had always caught his attention when he saw her. She’d seemed so full of life with so many dreams. He respected that.

Calculating the years, he realized she must have g
otten pregnant with Oliver soon after that night. She hadn’t mentioned seeing anyone or being involved. Hell, he hadn’t mentioned Cassie either. Truth was, she’d been the last person on his mind that night.

He’d forgotten
he’d made plans for the next evening, and not because he’d forgotten Peyton. She had no clue that Dante had been in an accident and had almost died. After a week in ICU and a month of therapy, his brother had finally recovered. The whirlwind of events had preoccupied Dillon. He’d gone back to the diner but her boss had told him she’d quit.

He’d thought about Peyton when he first came home from college, and he wondered what may have happened if they’d met up a
gain.

Now he knew. Kismet.

Damn! He didn’t believe in destiny. Life was what a person made of it and Cassie made that apparent.

He buried his head under the
spray. Deckland had warned Dillon long ago that he needed to stay clear of Cassie’s hold. At the time, he’d brushed his brother’s concern off as nonsense. Now, Dillon understood that he’d jumped back into something he should have run from.

Some
lessons are hard learned.

Turning
off the water, he dried off, wrapped the towel low on his hips and went down the hall to his bedroom. Pushing open the door, the light was on and he stopped short. His stomach twisted. “Cassie? What are you doing here?” She was sitting on the edge of his bed. Her short skirt clung high on her hips, her long tanned legs stretched forever into the cowgirl boots. The image could have come straight from the olden days when she spent a lot of time in his room. He stepped across the threshold and started to close the door, but thought better. He left it wide open and kept his distance.

“You and I need to talk,” she said.

“No we don’t.” There wasn’t a damn thing he wanted to hear or say to her.

She leaned forward, exposing a large portion of breasts beneath the low V-neck top. “Yes we do. The last thing I want is for you and Dante angry at one another.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you screwed him. But it didn’t matter much then, huh?” He was happy that he didn’t feel anger, only remorse.

“We were broken up, Dillon.” She stood up, but stayed by the bed.

“And that gave you the right to take up with my brother?” She took a step and he moved to his dresser, grabbing a T-shirt and boxers
, but he made no move to pull either of them on.

“It just happened.
Neither Dante nor I planned for the connection. We couldn’t deny the feelings we have for each other. We want you to be happy for us.”

“Does
Dante know you’re here?” He looked at her and his breath caught. She’d changed. She’d disappeared under a façade. Everything about her seemed fake, even her voluptuous body that one time he couldn’t get enough of. He no longer found her attractive. The only thing that came to mind was Peyton, her caring eyes, sweet smile and unaltered beauty.

“No. He went to the store to grab a few things.” Cassie crossed the room and stood before him, shoving her
hands into the front pockets of the skirt. “I feel bad for you—”

“You shouldn’t. I’m happy. I’ve found someone else.”
Shit!
What was he saying? The words had fallen from his mouth before he’d thought them through.

Cassie’s eyes widened and one
corner of her mouth twisted. “You have? That was fast.”

He should stop the lie now. He should admit he didn’t have anyone, but he just couldn’t manage to make his tongue work to
utter the words. “We’ve known each other for a while.”

“Who is she?”

“Does it matter?”

Her hands came up out of her pockets and slid through her hair, sending blonde tendrils bouncing.
“Yes, it does. I didn’t realize you’d moved on.”

Seeing her
astonishment made the hair stand on his neck. “Peyton Keller.” He was done for. Peyton would shoot him.