Dakota Storm Page 8

  David adjusted his ball cap and slapped his thigh. He needed to get out of there and away from the lovebirds for a few minutes before he punched someone. “Another beer?” he asked Matt. Matt shook his head and said he had to drive. “Brandon? Misty?” Jesus, he nearly had to swallow his own tongue to get that out.

  “Yeah, I'll have one,” Brandon said, surprising everyone again.

  Misty looked up at David and met his gaze straight on for the first time that day. “Not me. But I'll take a Coke. I have to use the restroom, so I'll come with.”

  Boy, if looks could kill, Brandon would have done him in ten times over by the time he and Misty scooted past him to get to the aisle. David accidentally stepped all over that damn bear, giving himself a little guilty pleasure.

  As he followed her down the bleachers he admired the way she moved. He wished she would grab his hand like she did Brandon's all the time, but he knew that wasn't happening. Wanted to put his hand on the small of her back so bad he could taste it. Loop a finger through one of her belt loops and pull her close. Maybe throw an arm over her shoulders and tug her into his side. Obviously, he could do none of those things.

  Considering she'd been flipping him the bird and slamming doors in his face for the past week, he wasn't sure why she chose to go with him. Wouldn't surprise him if she wanted to go with him so she could bitch him out about something. He couldn't really think of another reason why she'd come along.

  They made their way to the restrooms, silently walking side by side. Thankfully, the line for the ladies' room wasn’t obnoxiously long.

  “I'll go get the drinks and meet you back here.” He'd wanted to stretch his legs and get the hell away from the two of them, but this was almost worse. She was so close, but she might as well be a half a world away.

  Before he could walk away, she grabbed his arm. “I don't have to go. I just... You seem to be drinking a lot lately. Don't you think you've had enough today?”

  Were they about to have a real conversation? For a moment his brain timed-out. Her hand still held on to his arm. Such a simple contact, but somehow significant.

  Then what she'd said finally hit his brain, and those cells started working again. “Misty, you saw me at a kegger and at a fair. That's what you do at those places. Drink.”

  She shrugged and looked anywhere but at him. She dropped her hand. “You just seem to be tossing them back pretty quick. Makes you a little mouthy.”

  He raised his eyebrows. Was she serious? Could she be so used to Brandon that she thought a man throwing back a few beers was distasteful? Or was she thinking back to those few months in high school when he'd lost track of what was important to him?

  “I think after coming home from war I deserve a few beers.” After coming home and having to see Brandon wrapped around you all the time... He kept that thought to himself. He had no claim to her. No say in who she dated and who she didn't.

  She looked down, dragging those sexy sandals through the loosened dirt just outside of the arena. Her toes were painted bright red. “You're right. I'm sorry.”

  “What's really going on?”

  She looked up at him, her face too innocent to be honest. “Nothing.”

  He took a minute just to drink in the sight of her. Cute blonde ponytail, high cheekbones, and full lips. Could’ve been yours. “Bullshit,” he said, calling her out. He knew her better than most, and he knew there was something she wasn't saying.

  “Whatever,” she said, starting to push past him to head to the beer tent.

  He grabbed her arm this time, bringing her right back to where she'd been standing. He didn't let go. Craved the contact. She'd been avoiding him since he'd come home, and he didn't want the conversation to end, even if it was a conversation he didn't want to have.

  “What was your point coming with me? It wasn't to talk to me about having too much to drink. You have a boyfriend, remember?” he said, as much to remind himself as to point it out to her.

  “I know.”

  “You think you love him?”

  “I know I love him. We're going to start a life together. If that's something you don't want to hear, then you should’ve thought about that before you left.”

  Start a life together? The alcohol in his system did a damn good job of allowing words that should stay in his mouth come out to dance. “You might think you love him, but he sure as hell doesn't love you.”

  Her eyebrows slammed down over her eyes, which was a clear indication that she was spitting mad. “What the hell do you know about Brandon? What do you know about our relationship? Not a damn thing, that’s what.”

  He'd started to dig his own grave by saying what he did. Might as well keep shoveling. “I know he doesn't love you. He couldn't. You're not yourself when you're around him. Even Matt can see that.”

  “Like I told my brother, people change. I changed.”

  “People don't change that much.”

  “They do when they've been taught a good lesson. You know what love doesn't do? It doesn't give up on the other person. Doesn't shut them out. And it sure as hell doesn't take their damn virginity in the back of a pickup and leave town a few days later without a word!”

  A few people in the vicinity laughed at her outburst. Several gasped. Both he and Misty glanced around and noticed several people looking their way. A few of them they knew. Well, shit.

  He turned back to her but lowered his voice. “And what if I'd never left?”

  In an unguarded moment he latched on to, she looked at him like they were sixteen again. Like she didn’t hate him. Like he’d never messed up. Her expression was soft. So much was said in that look he couldn't comprehend it all. Her expression said everything he'd hoped for. Without saying a word, she confirmed what he'd always thought: if he hadn't left they'd be together. She just didn't want to say it.

  A tiny flicker of hope sprang to life deep inside his chest. He wasn't sure if he should start fanning the little flame or blow it out before it got out of control.

  “I'll head back,” she said, trying to pull away.

  He didn't let her go. Couldn't. She had a decision to make, right there, smack dab in the middle of a rowdy crowd, screaming kids, with the sounds and smells of the bulls and horses all around them, and she knew it.

  He held his breath as she looked up at him, confusion and something else he couldn't quite place, etched on her delicate features. He could tell her breathing had quickened.

  People walked by them and the announcer started talking on the mic, but he could almost imagine it was just the two of them, the moment was so pivotal.

  “I missed you. I'm glad you're home safe.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek just above his jawline. He was so stunned he let go of her arm.

  And she left him standing there as she headed back to her boyfriend.

  Shit. What did I just do?

  It had taken Misty at least five minutes to compose herself before taking her seat next to Brandon. Another five minutes to convince herself she'd actually said what she'd said and done what she'd done. She could still feel the scratch of David's whiskers on her lips. Such a simple kiss, but because it had been David, it was so much more than some innocent welcome home smooch on the cheek. Jesus. She was not that kind of woman.

  She'd felt the moment between them stretch as they'd stood there facing off, and knew exactly what had been on the line: do you want Brandon, or do you want me?

  And here she was, sitting between the two. Stuck with wanting a man who'd broken her heart, and a man who'd been a perfect boyfriend. She couldn’t deny it to herself any longer. There was a pull toward David. But she loved Brandon.

  Well, that wasn't exactly true now, was it? With David there was passion in both heart and body. She’d never had butterflies upon seeing Brandon, and her pulse didn’t race when it came to Brandon. They lacked passion, but she'd known that from the beginning. She'd agreed to start dating him exclusively because he'd been safe—the exact opposite
of the man sitting to her left. But David? Hell, her pulse jumped every time she saw him. Being with him would…

  She took a sip of her Coke. Been there, done that.

  God, the memory.

  Good Lord, it hadn't really solidified in her brain that she was sitting between the only two men she'd ever been with. And there weren't many similarities between the two.

  How did that make Brandon feel? Oh yeah, she thought as she looked down at his man-prize. It upset him enough that he'd thrown his balls on the line just to win her a teddy bear. Something she'd never thought tame and intellectual Brandon would do.

  Her earlier conversation with her brother gnawed at her gut. “Brandon's never acted like this before.”

  “He's never had to.”

  She felt so unbelievably guilty for what she'd done that tears stung her eyes. Brandon felt the need to prove himself even though he was her boyfriend. And who put him in that place? She had. She was no better than Caroline. And didn't that sit like a brick in her gut? Misty knew what it felt like to not be enough. David had made her feel that way when he'd left. She'd felt like garbage. He'd acted as though they hadn’t been friends all their lives. As though he had owed her nothing, not even an explanation as to why he’d left so suddenly.

  The bleachers were crowded enough to smush them all together. She could swear to God Himself the thigh that brushed David's leg tingled. The thigh touching Brandon? Might as well belong to someone else, that was how much she noticed the contact.

  Brandon set his free hand on her thigh with his palm up, and she placed her hand in his.

  Abby's words at the bonfire came back and smacked Misty right in the face. “The line between love and hate is as thin as my tolerance for your bullshit right now.”

  Abby was right. Did Misty truly hate the man on her left and love the man on her right? Or was she angry with David for what he'd done and simply infatuated with Brandon because he'd cleaned up the mess David had left behind? Misty shouldn't be this angry over what happened four years ago. It was irrational. It was as though she were still emotionally invested in David, and that just wasn't the case at all.

  She squeezed Brandon's hand and tried to put it out of her mind. She'd already made her decision before David had come home.

  An hour later, Shane was up. She always got a little nervous when someone she knew was about to pop out of the chute on top of a bull. When her brother and David had ridden in their teens, she'd nearly shit her spleen every time they competed. She knew Shane well, but there wasn't a huge emotional attachment to him like she had with Matt and David.

  Get yourself together.

  When Shane started nodding his head rapidly, and the chute sprang open, she, Matt and David shot to their feet and screamed for their hometown boy. Shane hadn't worn the protective mask most of them wore, instead going for his simple straw hat. Men and their balls.

  As the bull jumped and spun, putting on a good show, Shane was able to keep up with the movements and counteract them. Leaning back when the bull's head was down and leaning forward when it came up, his alignment was perfect. When he hit six seconds, more of the crowd sprang to their feet. All the other bull riders had been thrown by now, and no one had received a score yet. Just as the buzzer sounded, his ass smacked the bull in what looked to be a painful hit. He went flying over the bull's head and landed hard on his left side.

  She sucked in a breath as the bull danced and jumped around Shane while he tried to get out of the way, stirring up dust. It looked like he might have hurt his arm. But Lord, he was going to hurt a lot more if that sixteen-hundred-pound bull stomped his ass.

  The bullfighters were trying to get the bull's attention away from Shane. One of them snatched Shane by his good arm and dragged him out of harm's way. Misty was finally able to breathe and said a quick prayer of thanks as the crowd cheered for Shane's eight-second run.

  That's when she realized she'd latched on to David's arm in her distress, and Brandon hadn't even bothered to stand up. David looked down at her hand and then looked her right in the eye.

  This feels right.

  David was staring at her so intently, she almost forgot where she was until the announcer shouted out over the microphone that Shane was in first place now with a score of eighty-six. As though someone had clicked the play button on a paused movie, everyone around her started coming into focus again.

  She quickly let him go and smoothed her tank top down. When she took her seat on the bench again, she looked at Brandon. “Damn, Shane's not half bad,” she said, trying to get rid of the awkward moment and wondering if he'd even noticed her snafu with David.

  Oh, he'd noticed all right.

  Brandon didn't say anything, but then he didn't have to. His mouth was set in a hard line, and his back was as straight as the bleachers. As David settled down next to her again, she tried to see where Shane was. Looked like the paramedics on scene were with him already.

  “Looks like he might have hurt his arm,” Matt said, getting up. “Y’all coming?”

  She and David stood at the same time.

  Again, Brandon didn't get up. She immediately sat back down. “Tell him I hope he's okay. And it was a good ride.”

  She scooted back on the bench as David slipped past her. Matt stopped in front of her, crowding her space, and glared down at her. “You’re seriously not coming?”

  He looked at Brandon and then back to her. He didn’t have to say what was on his mind. She knew exactly what he was thinking. Before Brandon, she would have jumped up and gone with them to check on Shane.

  She shook her head, feeling as though Matt’s glare had an actual weight to it. “Tell him I hope he’s okay,” she repeated lamely.

  Matt shook his head before saying, “Will do.” He left her sitting there and carefully avoided stepping on her teddy bear as he passed her.

  David had stepped all over it.

  She and Brandon sat on the bench in uncomfortable silence. She itched to follow her brother and David. Poor Shane. He was likely in a lot of pain. She tried to ignore the weight of Matt’s disappointment as she turned to Brandon. Was her brother right? Had she changed that much since she’d been with Brandon?

  “Don't you think we should have gone with them?”

  “Go if you feel the need. Looks like the paramedics have it covered, so there's nothing we can do to help.” He didn't look at her and stared straight ahead to watch the next guy shoot out of the gate. “Shane is the one who thought it was a good idea to sit on a bull.”

  She nodded, but quickly changed her mind the second she saw Abby trotting down the steps to go check on Shane. Misty didn't want to sit there on the bench and not show Shane support. This felt wrong. Friends were always there for friends. “Well, I'm going. You coming or not?”

  “That would be not,” he said. His face was still impassive.

  “I'll be right back.” She got up and scooted past everyone.

  She knew Brandon was upset, and she had a good idea why. This had nothing to do with Shane and everything to do with David. But how could she erase nearly eighteen years of knowing a person? David had been an integral part of her life for so many years, and he would be for the rest of her life.

  David would probably be the best man at her brother's wedding. Likely the godfather to Matt's kids. He’d be around for family barbeques and the day-to-day running of both family ranches. Matt and David picked up right where they had left off. Men had a tendency of forgiving and completely forgetting, and apparently, they’d done just that.

  She made her way around the fence and walked up to stand beside Abby and Matt. Shane sat back on a fold-up chair while the EMTs and paramedics checked him out.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” she said to Abby.

  Abby looked up at her. “I came with Sue. It was a last-minute decision.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “Bet that was a spanking you'll never forget,” her brother said, clapping Shane on his good shoulder. One of the
EMTs asked him to step back.

  “If my ass ain't black and blue tomorrow it'll be a miracle.” She could see the pain on Shane's face, but he was trying to mask it. Shane glanced up at Abby, a sexy smirk on his face. “Hey Abby, you wanna check that for me sometime tomorrow night? Kiss and make it better?”

  Abby cocked her head. “Are you asking me to kiss your ass, or do I smell a steak dinner in my future?”

  Shane flashed her a devastating smile while sitting there in his black protective vest and cocky attitude. His jeans hung on pure muscle. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

  Abby bit her lip, then shrugged her shoulders. “I'll think about it.”

  Misty smiled as she felt the tug of familiarity bind her to those around her. She looked up to see David staring at her. Her smile faded. So many questions threatened to spill. Why did he have to leave? Why did he have to return and ruin everything she had going? He was watching her as though he hadn't seen her yet that day. Or even that year. Just like earlier, it felt as though they were the only two people in the world.

  “What the hell is going on with you two,” Shane asked, snapping her out of her stupor.

  No one had to ask who he was referring to. How much blushing could she do in one day? “You feeling pretty safe with those EMTs surrounding you, aren't you?” she asked bluntly. Who needed enemies...

  He barked out a laugh, then winced. “It's broken, isn't it?” he asked the paramedic.

  “Yep,” the paramedic said. “You can ride in the ambulance or have someone take you to the hospital. Either way, there's no avoiding a trip to the ER.”