Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders 15)

He laughed. “Fuck no. But I did have you worried there for a sec, huh?”

She whapped him on the arm and exited the building.

No surprise that Dalton walked her to her Jeep. No surprise, either, that he laid a big, wet steamy kiss on her before whispering good-night.

But it wasn’t a good night. Rory tossed and turned in her bed because she couldn’t get the man out of her mind. This thing with Dalton was driving her batshit crazy.

She mentally corrected the word thing and inserted his preferred term: relationship.

Goddammit. How had the man invaded her life and her thoughts so completely that her word choices weren’t even her own? The fact she then heard his confident little male chuckle in her head was just another example of why she was so completely screwed up by all of this. In her book, and in her experiences with one Dalton McKay, screwed up equaled screwed over.

Now the man was acting like he was in love with her, for Christsake.

In love.

With her.

As if he’d always been in love with her.

Yeah, right.

He’d been in lust with her, but that wasn’t exactly news since the man-whore had been in lust with any number of women over the years.

She’d replayed their conversations from the past week on the drive home. More questions bounced around in her brain than answers.

If it’d been a one-time thing between her and Dalton—like the night she’d given him her virginity—she could blame him. But she’d slept with him two other times.

The night she’d spilled her guts to him about her mom’s financial woes. They’d both been slightly drunk and had no business climbing between the sheets, but they had. From what she remembered…the sex hadn’t been that good, just sloppy, quick and regrettable.

And yes, Dalton had been gone when she’d woken up hung-over as hell the next morning. And yes, he’d used the information she’d shared in a drunken rant to try and screw over her mom. Typical f**king McKay. So it’d been a double betrayal.

But had Rory learned her lesson?

Of course not.

When Dalton had shown up out of the blue at her place in Laramie two years later, a dejected man, admitting he’d been second-guessing everything about himself and his life, she’d taken him in. She’d listened to him. Offered him reassurance. She’d shoved aside the bad parts of their shared past and reminded him he’d always been able to confide in her.

But Dalton hadn’t wanted his old friend Rory. He’d wanted the woman, not the girl.

And she’d been so mesmerized by his intensity and by his desire for her that she’d been powerless to resist when he kissed her like her mouth existed strictly for his pleasure. When he’d touched her body as if it was solely his to worship. When he’d whispered such sweet and hot promises she’d wanted so desperately to believe.

The sex that night? Whoo-boy. Dalton had seemed equally blown away that it’d taken them two times to get it right. She’d naively hoped they’d started a new chapter in their lives.

But Dalton had reverted to his love-her-and-leave-her persona, except that time, she’d caught him trying to sneak out in the middle of the night.

Infuriated, Rory had knocked him on his ass as he’d been putting on his jeans. Then she’d morphed into crazy—shouting threats at him, while he was prone on the floor covering his junk with one hand and his head with the other.

Not her finest hour.

Especially not when she’d locked herself in the bathroom because she couldn’t stand to see him walk out on her again. After her crying fit, she’d stared at her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy face in the mirror, then she’d scrutinized the suck marks on her neck and repeated, “Never again, Douchebag McKay,” until her hatred overtook her hurt.

So things had turned ugly between them every time they’d crossed paths after that incident. Dalton had too much McKay pride to apologize for who he was and Rory had too much anger to let it slide.

Once Sierra had stepped in, keeping Rory from taking a swing at Dalton’s pretty face—even when he’d sworn he’d only been trying to apologize.

But she had no choice except to be civil when Addie and Dalton became engaged. For all intents and purposes the groom and the maid of honor had avoided each other—not that anyone noticed.

So Dalton’s confession of why he’d ditched Addie at the altar had knocked her sideways. Even when that time, she knew he hadn’t been feeding her a line. Remembering the look in his eyes at that moment still gave her chills.

Now here he was acting like nothing had changed. Like he’d just been waiting for her to get her shit together.

Wrong.

Dalton had run out on her too many times for her to take his insistence he’d changed at face value. He’d leave when it suited him—like he always did, regardless of who it hurt.

But this time it could be different—because she was different. Rory wasn’t some starry-eyed eighteen-year-old with visions of forever. She had goals and dreams and no man would ever get in the way of them again. Living in Sundance, working at the WNRC wasn’t anything more than a temporary pit stop on her way to something better.

So Dalton wanted her—no surprise. She wasn’t immune to Dalton’s charms—a fact he was perfectly aware of. As much as he’d use it to his advantage, she’d use it to hers too. Let him try and convince her he’d changed. Let him prove to her sex between them would be off the charts fantastic.

After all the shit he’d put her through over the years, she deserved every bit of his sexual attention and expertise. She had no delusions about what she wanted from him; hot sex, companionship on her terms that didn’t interfere with her career goals. She could reap all the benefits and take none of the risks.

Because she’d be the one walking away from him this time with her heart and her pride intact.

Chapter Ten

Stay cool.

Dalton tried to pretend he was calm about seeing Addie as he parked in front of the house she shared with Truman.

After all, three years had passed since he’d left her and left town. She’d married one of his best buddies and according to Rory, was perfectly happy with her life. He knew she’d never forget what he’d done, but had she forgiven him?

He’d opted to show up early to clear the air. He rang the doorbell. Dang. Should he have brought flowers?

Too late now, he thought as the door opened. “Hey, Addie.”

Addie squinted through the screen. “Dalton? What’re you doin’ here? Supper isn’t for another hour.”