Raising Kane (Rough Riders 9)

Kane sipped his beer.

She sipped her ginger ale. She caught their reflection in the bar mirror. From here she could see the door and the entire length of the bar. So he had known when she’d walked in.

“So, counselor, if you ain’t here for a three-martini lunch, which one of my meddlin’ relatives called you? Kade? Skylar?”

“India.”

That shocked him. “India ratted me out?”

“Yes. She… Omigod, is that…blood on your face?”

“Probably. What’d India say?”

He didn’t care he’d been bleeding? “India said you were here drowning your sorrows and maybe I ought to check on you. Then she gave me a message for you.”

“This oughta be good,” Kane muttered.

“She said Colt might be an ass**le on occasion, but he was her ass**le and she didn’t appreciate you messing up his pretty face.” Her eyes searched his. “Does that mean something to you?”

Kane smiled. “Yeah, she’s not pissed off at me for getting into a fistfight with her husband.”

“Wait a second. You and Colt got into a…fistfight?”

“Yep. Wasn’t the first time, probably won’t be the last.”

Ginger stared at him, her mouth hanging open. “You’re both grown men! Whatever would possess you to take a swing at one another?”

He bristled. “I don’t expect you to understand. Me’n Colt… Let’s just say we’re both just hotheaded.

We get pissed, come out swingin’ and then we’re done. Fine. Back to normal.”

“You’re serious.”

“India didn’t tell you that Kade and Brandt had to break up the fight between me’n Colt at Sky Blue?”

“No. She just told me that you’d had a bad morning.”

“Indy thinks Colt is completely tamed. Sure, he hasn’t been drinkin’, druggin’ and whorin’ around for a few years. He’s happily married to a woman he worships and now they’ve got this perfect little boy. But there’s a dark side to him. A side that likes to inflict pain and receive it in return. Colt’s brothers have never understood it. Kade never understood it about me, either. But me’n Colt? We recognized it from the time we were kids and accepted that violent side. And it might sound barbaric, but every once in a while? We just need to beat the ever lovin’ shit out of each other. Today was that day.”

She honestly didn’t know what to say.

“When Colt hears why I was a major ass**le today, well, he’ll probably show up at my place with a damn puppy. That’s just the kind of guy he is.”

Ginger placed her hand on Kane’s thigh. “I’m so sorry about Shep.”

“Yeah. Ah. Thanks.” He swigged from his bottle. “Seems a little silly, cryin’ in my beer over my dead dog. Jesus, I’m livin’ the clichéd country song—my dog died, I had a knock-down, drag-out fight with my kin and now I’m at the local watering hole drownin’ my sorrows about the suckage of my life.”

“I imagine so,” Ginger murmured. “But your woman hasn’t left you.”

Kane muttered something that sounded like “Not yet.”

She wanted so badly to soothe him. Kane constantly touched her when they were alone together.

Tender lover’s caresses on her face. Running his work-roughened fingertips down her neck. Twisting sections of her hair around his fingers. Playing dot to dot with her freckles on her.

How could she show him the same loving care he’d shown her?

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Lettie happily supplied Ginger with what she needed. She returned to the bar with a washcloth and a bowl of hot water.

“What the hell’s that for?”

“I’m going to clean you up.”

“Can’t stand to look at me with blood on my face?” he said curtly.

“Blood, swollen spots and bruises on your handsome mug does affix you with a sort of sexy, rugged meanness. But the truth is, I was hoping for one of your amazing kisses. The taste of blood might spoil it.”

His stoic face softened. “I’ll give you all the kisses you can handle, sugar.”

“Good. Then hold still and let me play doctor.” Her gaze zoomed to the broken skin below his lips.

“Turn ’bout is fair play, right?”

She didn’t respond. She just gently dabbed the spots until all the blood was gone. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do about the bruises, except offer them a healing kiss, which she did. On his mouth, his jaw, the cut by his temple, his cheek. She also pressed soft kisses on the section of his lips that weren’t swollen.

“Ginger,” he said huskily, nuzzling her hair, “You make me want…”

“I know. But right now, I want to dance with you, Kane.”

“Why?”

Because I want an excuse to wrap myself around you and just hold you. “Because there’s no one here to see my two left feet.”

“Really?” he asked skeptically.

“Really. I fell down the stairs, remember? I’m utterly graceless. I’ve watched you with Hayden.

You’re a wonderful teacher. I figured if anyone could teach me, you could.”

“Okay. But I get to pick the songs.”

Kane hopped off the barstool and made a beeline for the jukebox.

She yelled, “No ‘Honky Tonk Badonkadonk’, Kane McKay. I mean it.”

He laughed and started shoving in quarters.

Selections chosen, he stood on the edge of the empty dance floor and held out his hand.

Ginger wasn’t sure why she felt nervous; she just did. As she started toward him, the Eddie Arnold classic “Make the World Go Away” drifted from the jukebox. When Kane’s rough fingers enclosed hers, the heat lingering beneath the surface sparked. When he enfolded her in his arms, that same spark ignited.

She wanted skin on skin, mouth on mouth, wanted to feel him above her as his body sought the entrance to hers.

But this cheek-to-cheek, chest-to-chest, pelvis-to-pelvis position was a good temporary substitute.

They drifted together through the mellow song, not talking, just dancing. The second song kicked in, Barbara Mandrell’s “Sleeping Single in a Double Bed” and Kane kicked up the pace, deftly swinging her into two-stepping. Just when Ginger thought she might have to take a breather, the third song started: Big and Rich’s “Lost in This Moment”. She sighed. How had he known she loved this song?