Dakota Storm Page 27

  “It bears repeating. We'll figure it out. It's what my mom would call a first-world problem.” He cleared his throat, thinking of it as more than a first-world problem. With Misty here, finally in his arms, how could he let her go? She wanted to stay, didn't she? “You want to come back to Garner, don't you?”

  She pushed off him and put her head in her hand. “Yeah. I do. Just not sure where I'd get a teaching job. And like I said, it’s not like Carl’s gonna quit anytime soon. I know you're stuck on the three years, David, but it could be longer than that.”

  You don't need to work at the school. Just stay on the ranch with me. “Yeah,” was all he said. He didn't want her to go all women's rights on him. He needed to slide back to safe territory. “Dad's coming home tomorrow,” he said needlessly.

  Something clouded her features before she could hide it. Sadness? Surprise? He couldn’t figure it out, and before he could, the expression was gone. Couldn’t be surprise. She already knew his dad was coming home sometime in the morning. David had only mentioned it to change the subject.

  She looked down at his chest. “I was going to stop by the bakery and get him that carrot cake he loves, but then I thought about his health. Should he be eating stuff like that?”

  David had no idea. His mom hadn't talked about a special diet. Hard to focus on cake when all he could think about was Misty leaving. Their relationship was new. A little rocky. They’d barely tested the waters before they’d jumped from just learning to swim to a deep-sea diving experience. Would it survive a four-hour distance? “I think he can handle a piece or two of cake.”

  She settled back down on his chest. “Then I'll get it for him.”

  He started his lazy track up and down her spine again. The simple touch seemed to be the most intimate thing he'd ever done—because it was Misty. He'd been a coward when it had come to her his whole life. Of course he’d wanted to ask her out all throughout high school, but he’d been scared that if they had taken their relationship to the next level things would irrevocably change between them. He'd feared losing her. Losing his best friend. Losing the easy comradery—and it had changed. When they’d crossed that line everything had changed.

  He'd screwed up something fierce. Now he finally had a chance to prove to her he was loyal and hardworking, and that he’d love her for the rest of his life. They finally had it all, and ironically they were about to lose it.

  Three years without this closeness with her? A short weekend here and there, a month or two in the summer, just to see her leave again?

  Nothing like knowing a unicorn existed.

  Misty could feel the tension in David's body—probably because she felt the same tension inside herself. The soft caress of his warm palm moving up and down her back was easing it though. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy their night together. All they had in the bedroom was a bed. No television. No dressers. Just them in this king-sized bed, the silence of the night surrounding them and a slight breeze coming in through the open window.

  And it was enough. More than enough.

  It was late. Probably around eleven. They both had to get up early in the morning, but she didn't want to fall asleep just yet. She was hoping he was going to bring up Mike and open up to her. She'd tried to prod him to talk about his father about ten times that night, but he'd never said more than was necessary.

  “Was it hard for you to imagine being away from Brandon that long?”

  She opened her eyes, wishing he hadn't brought up her ex. It just didn't feel right. It felt as though he'd just dumped a basket full of dirty laundry onto some clothes fresh off the line. “Um... Not really. I guess I looked at it as just a bump...” in the road. Lord, she did not want to discuss this with him!

  “What do you feel now? Now that it's us?”

  His voice was low, and it sounded as though he really wanted to know. She’d struggled with the same thing even before she’d broken up with Brandon. When she’d accepted her job, she’d thought more about leaving her ranch, her brother, her best friend Abby, and David more than she’d thought about being away from Brandon.

  Hell, she’d even contemplated missing the ribeye’s at the Roadhouse more than she’d contemplated being away from her boyfriend.

  She’d never considered herself to be selfish. Sure, she had her moments, just like everyone else. But when she’d looked back on her relationship with Brandon, she’d felt nothing less than selfish. Now that she was with David, she absolutely hated the idea of leaving. She had looked at the situation from every angle, but she had no choice. She was under contract and she was leaving soon. “Isn't there some kind of unspoken rule that you don't bring up exes?”

  “Tell me.” His hand stopped moving on the small of her back.

  She didn't want him to stop the simple contact, and she certainly didn't want to delve into any conversation that had to do with the way she felt about leaving. Unfortunately, she knew that tone of voice he'd used, and he would persist until she answered him.

  “I hate it,” she said simply. The tension she'd felt from him subsided and his hand started moving again. How had they gone from flirting with disaster to bodies entwined in a few short days? Was she the whore the whole town thought she was?

  “We can fix this.”

  He always had been a glass half-full kind of guy. Up until senior year, anyway. “Sure. You come with me.”

  “I can't.”

  You won't. She damn well knew he could hire out. Maybe that was asking too much, what with his father fresh from a quadruple bypass. How could she ask him to leave his family at a time like that?

  He left you like that.

  She inhaled slowly as all the stress from the past few weeks rushed over her. She disentangled herself from him, suddenly feeling the need to move. He reached out to keep her there, but she gently pushed his hands away.

  It wasn't that she expected him to come with her. They'd been doing this relationship thing for all of two days. Of course, with their long history, she was getting things confused in her mind. No, she didn't expect him to come with her to Rapid, but to slap it off the table so readily? Add that to his not opening up to her about his relationship with his dad? Where exactly did they stand as a couple?

  “What is it?”

  She feigned a bright smile while slipping into his big T-shirt. “Nothing. I'm going to go grab a Dew. Breaking in that bed made me thirsty. You want something while I'm up?”

  “No. You want me to get it for you?”

  No, I need a little space. “I got it.”

  Once in the kitchen, she took a few deep, calming breaths. Two days of being together, Misty. Get your shit together. Just a few short months ago you had no idea he was coming back into your life, and now you’re flipping your ever-loving-gourd because you think the two of you won't survive a long-distance relationship. Moving too fast?

  The best course of action? Don't get in so deep. Don't throw your heart out there like you did your body.

  Her brother was right. They’d moved too fast. But it wasn’t sleeping with him that was stressing her out—quite the opposite. It was thinking of a long-term relationship with him. How were they going to get past these next three years? And what if it turned out to be four or five years?

  No, it wasn’t the sex that was tripping her up. It was hoping for forever.

  She opened the door to the fridge and snatched out a Dew. Cracking it open she took a long pull, bathed in the light from the fridge. Lord, things had been going perfectly tonight since they’d come back to the cabin. She didn't want to screw it up. With that thought in mind, she waded through the shag carpet back to the room. David was sitting on the bed with his back propped up against the wall. He was staring at her with a thousand questions etched on his face, none of which she wanted to answer. Before she got to the bed, she took another drink and slipped back out of his T-shirt.

  There are things you're not sharing with me either, cowboy.

  She put the can o
n the floor and slid back into the bed, wondering if she should bring up Mike. She knew why he'd talked to Caroline about his problems, but to not come to her at all? The crap with his dad must have been bad, considering the road he'd gone down in high school. Instead of boozing it up and skipping school he could have talked to her.

  But she kept her mouth firmly shut. There was no doubt in her mind that David knew she loved him, and she knew he loved her. Would he do anything for her? Probably within reason.

  Plowing into the path of a tornado to save her? Within reason for him.

  Moving to Rapid with her after his dad had a heart attack? Apparently that was not within reason.

  She vowed to stop overthinking everything and take the next few weeks one step at a time. That damned voice in her head kept taunting her. You sure didn't take this one step at a time, did you? Fell right into bed with him. Just like Caroline said—you’re stupid as hell.

  Shut up.

  “You okay?”

  “Just thirsty,” she said, as they settled into bed once more. She flung her leg over him and kept up her mantra: no overthinking. One step at a time. Perhaps she could even broach the subject of slicing her contract down to one year with the superintendent? Bring it up to the board? But then where would that put her? Sioux Falls? Aberdeen? Where would she find a job? She wasn't going to throw away a four-year degree and her dream to teach...was she?

  One thing was quickly becoming clear.

  For David, she'd do just about anything.

  Chapter 23

  Everyone had waited until the afternoon to visit with Big Mike. David and Misty had come into the main house about ten minutes ago, and his shock still hadn’t worn off.

  Seeing Big Mike outside of the hospital made his condition seem even worse, if that was possible. David had rarely seen his father as anything but one of the largest, toughest, most intimidating figures in his life. He'd made David's drill instructors look like wussies. Now his old man looked tired. Completely worn down to the bone. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he sure as hell wasn't sporting the farmer's tan he usually had from working all his life outdoors.

  He still had a full head of dark hair though. His eyes were still sharp and assessing. As sharp as the tongue in his mouth. He'd been griping since David had walked in the door, but strangely the malice behind all the bitching was gone. Plus, he’d lost weight, and that had to be a good thing, even if he still looked like he’d gone a few months in a concentration camp. Those overalls he loved so much were going to tent his ass for sure.

  The doctors managed to quell any further blood clots, and his dad was on a blood thinner. Between the blood thinner and the numerous bottles of pills he'd come home with, David felt enough empathy for his dad to fill the dining room they were all gathered in.

  His dad hated it. He hated pity with a vengeance.

  It hadn’t hit him just how sick his father really was until he’d walked in the door and saw him face-to-face. For some odd reason, Big Mike hadn’t seemed as tiny when he’d laid in that hospital bed. Seeing him like this made David realize all the more that he couldn’t leave his family at a time like this.

  On the opposite end of the spectrum, keeping Misty here sure would set his world right. This felt right. Her being here with them. Hell, his being there with them. He’d been the missing piece for so long, not Misty. She and Matt belonged here with his parents more than he did.

  “I can eat a piece of cake,” Big Mike said to his wife, his features set.

  Nora stood next to his chair, hands on her hips.

  The roses David and Misty had bought were sitting on the kitchen table in a nice glass vase. When his mom had seen them her eyes had lit up, and for a good hour, she and Big Mike had sat at the kitchen table talking and smiling. David had hardly believed what he’d seen. They’d looked like they were in love. When his dad’s coffee cup had run low—decaf now—his mother had pushed her chair back from the old oak table and had cheerfully poured more for him. As his mom had talked with him, his dad had reached out and taken her hand in his as they sat there.

  David had glanced at Misty more than a dozen times as if to say, do you see this shit?

  And then Misty had taken the cake out of the refrigerator, and his parents had fallen back into the way they usually acted toward each other. Nothing like a little bickering with company around.

  Misty looked mortified, hovering over the table where she'd just placed the cake she'd bought. His mother looked at his dad as though she was going to sock him, and Matt, who’d just come in, was oblivious, too preoccupied with getting his own paper plate for a piece of cake.

  Matt took the tension down a notch when he muttered, “Don't mind if I do.” He shouldered past Misty, pushing her out of the way, and slapped a piece of the carrot cake on his plate.

  “Grab me a piece, will you sweetie?”

  His dad had been talking to Misty, not his wife. David's mom looked at Misty as if to warn her off, but Misty ignored her and got his dad a slice. Smart girl. Defer to the big guy.

  David had learned that trick many, many moons ago. His mother’s temper had nothing on his father’s, and if David had needed to pick who to disobey—which he’d had to do on numerous occasions—he’d always chosen to disobey his mother. She tended not to hold grudges and didn’t get loud. Feeling that someone was disappointed in you wasn’t as bad as getting the third degree for the rest of the day.

  David tried to deflect his mother's wrath. “Mom, I'm the one that told her she could get the cake. I didn't think a slice of cake would harm him.”

  His mom narrowed her brown eyes at him. “Well, you thought wrong. The doctor clearly said—”

  “Doctors are quacks.”

  “—that your dad should be eating healthy. Like vegetables, fruits, and lean meats,” she finished, giving his dad a look for trying to interrupt her.

  Throughout the years, he'd witnessed what a strong marriage looked like in Misty's parents. They were loving toward each other, and they never went anywhere without the other tagging along, even if it was a simple shopping trip to Aberdeen. They held hands, always kissed goodbye, and seemed to genuinely want to be around each other. In his own house he'd seen just the opposite. Big Mike hadn't gotten his name from just his size, and his wife could attest to that. But she'd always held her own when he was a grump, like he was being now. If Nora decided to put her foot down, Big Mike always backed off. She wasn't exactly putting her foot down on this, but she was close. Actually, he hadn’t seen his mother put her foot down in years.

  David would bet his next paycheck that this would be the last piece of cake his dad had for quite a while.

  “Kill me now,” his dad said, holding out his hand for the cake.

  Misty dutifully handed the paper plate to him and stepped away from his mother. She then looked at David and said, “I'm thinking Twister needs to be fed.”

  Before she could leave—and who could blame her for wanting to bail—his dad latched on to that name, a bite halfway to his mouth. “Did I hear correctly that you risked your life for a calf?”

  Misty shrugged. “You know, I think after this little slice of cake you should follow the doctor's orders.”

  Misty was trying to get back on to his mother's good side and trying to deflect the direction of the conversation all in one breath. David nearly laughed. When it came to his mom, Misty could never be on her bad side for long. Hell, his mom had likely already Googled wedding dresses now that she knew he and Misty were dating.

  “Oh, he will,” his mother said.

  “Everybody calm down and let the man enjoy his cake.” Matt slopped another forkful into his face and was already stabbing at another bite. “He ate hospital food for a damned month,” he said with cake in his mouth. “Needs to put on some weight.”

  “Never thought you'd be the voice of reason,” Big Mike muttered. “Hell must have frozen over.”

  Matt smiled around a mouthful of frosting.


  “Back to this calf,” Mike said. “Your brother was telling me that you stayed in the field during the storm because you were trying to get a calf to safety. You could have been killed. Thought you had better sense than that.”

  Misty had always known when to stand up to Big Mike and when to back down. “You're right,” she said, choosing to stand down. “I made a mistake. Won't do it again.”

  “You're damned right you won't,” Big Mike grumbled, duly pacified by her answer and the cake.

  A smirk crossed Misty’s features. “This coming from a man who walks outside when the town siren goes off just to see what's coming.” Misty raised a brow and stared his dad down. “If we want to talk common sense then we should look to someone else as the example.”

  His mother laughed long and hard at that one, making the tension between her and Big Mike a little more palatable.

  What Misty said was true, though, and it wasn’t just Big Mike that hauled their ass outside when the siren went off. Hell, you weren't a real South Dakotan if you didn't hightail it out of your house when the town siren sounded to warn of a possible tornado. David almost laughed when his dad shrugged and took a bite of the cake without comment, his wife still laughing.

  There was a knock at the door, and Shane came in without being invited. He'd been working his ass off in the wake of the tornado, his contracting business booming. His arm was still in a sling, but that hadn't slowed him down. He was the only one of their circle who could rock both a business suit and chaps. Looked like he was working today, given that he wore his black company T-shirt and jeans that didn’t have holes in them. Shane could go from small-time farmer to business owner to bull rider and back again without losing his stride.

  Like Matt, it didn't take Shane long to sniff out the cake. Misty was already preparing a plate for him when he went up to Big Mike. “You look like shit, old man.” He bent down and gave him a hug.

  Not to be outdone, his father quipped, “Heard you ate a dirt sandwich at the rodeo a few weeks ago.”