Cowboy Crushin' (Dalton Boys Book 3) (5 page)

Witt’s brother had sweet-talked her too. In the dim light of the fire she’d recognized the eyes that looked so much like Witt’s.

Then he’d shown up and every other man on that hill had stood in his shadow.

Damn, she was too smitten with that cowboy. So stupid.

She revisited their moments together—his big hands blazing a path over her arms and around her spine to finally land on her ass. His flavors still lived on her tongue, and she was experienced enough to know it would be a good long while before she was able to shake free of him. It wasn’t normal to feel such a connection.

“Mom?” Alex’s small voice came from the doorway.

She threw back the covers, almost relieved to have him need her. He grounded her in her conviction that she was making the right decision. That shunning Witt was the right thing.

Alex snuggled under the blankets but when she placed a hand on his chest, he shook her off. With a heavy heart, she retracted her hand and watched him fall asleep again.

Aching for him to be okay.

Aching for Witt to show her a new way to live.

The thought came out of nowhere, blasting her square in the chest. She held her breath, trying to make out her reason for believing he
could
. She didn’t know him. But he seemed to know enough about her.

He made her feel tipsy.

They’d exchanged few words, but she had a gut instinct that Witt Dalton was different from the other men she’d been with.

And he knew how to kiss her until she forgot she had bones.

She stared at the ceiling and let her mind race. What would she be getting herself into with Witt?

Her first husband had been crazy about Nascar and she’d instantly become a fan, except she only liked it because he did. Within a few months she stopped going to races with him and listening when he talked about odds. That’s when trouble had started.

With her second husband, she’d gotten into horseback riding. While she enjoyed it, she could think of better things to do than ride into the wilderness every weekend of her life. She’d also let him believe her favorite dessert was pumpkin pie—just like his. She hadn’t told him the truth until the day she’d left.

Her relationship with all the other Toms, Dicks and Vonnys had been the same—she lost herself in a man. Why did she do that? Maybe she didn’t have a personality of her own.

Since starting her business, she’d begun to find a place in the world. For her sanity—and Alex’s welfare—she couldn’t allow Witt into her life.

Even if he kissed better than any man she’d ever known.

As she stared at her son’s long eyelashes skimming his cheeks in sleep, she wondered if she should try to reach out to Witt and ask to bring Alex to see the farm animals. It would be purely for him and nothing to do with desire for Witt pulsing through her system.

She had a lot to think about.

Witt was finished trying to come up with an excuse to walk into The Sweet Tooth. He didn’t want to fabricate an occasion to buy candy or cupcakes. He wanted to see Shelby.

He hadn’t slept at all last night but was strangely jittery. He’d done his chores before first breakfast and had showered and dressed in his nicest jeans and western shirt, the one with the pearl buttons.

“Looks like someone’s going on another wife hunt,” Kade had joked from the bathroom door.

Witt had scuffed his knuckles over his jaw, wondering if he should shave. But the ladies he’d been with seemed to respond to the dark shadow of hair. And Shelby sure as hell hadn’t seemed to mind last night while he’d kissed the breath from her.

He parked his truck on the street, easing it into a cramped spot between a truck and a Jeep. He looked up at the cupcake on the sign and licked his lips, thinking of the woman inside.

When he walked in, he skidded to a stop. The black and white tile floor seemed endless between him and the counter. A growl rose in his throat.

Five men surrounded Shelby. All of them were people he’d grown up with—and none were good enough for her.

Using his broad shoulders, he pushed his way to the counter.

“Hey Dalton, what’s your beef?”

He shot the guy a look he hoped would shrivel his balls. The man backed away.

“Witt’s in a hurry to get himself a box of candy, I guess,” someone drawled. “Wait your turn, Dalton.”

He gave the other guy his most intimidating stare.

“What are you doing, Witt? You can’t just bully my customers away.” Shelby’s clear voice sent a bullet of want straight through him.

“Any of you paying?” He surveyed the five faces. Not one reached for his wallet. “That’s what I thought.” He rounded them up and herded them out the door like sheep. Once the door was closed in their surprised faces, he stomped back to Shelby.

“What are you doing? Y-you can’t come behind the counter,” she sputtered.

“Can and will.” He caught her hand and towed her into the back room. She blinked up at him, eyes wide, full lips parted, wearing the sexiest skinny jeans and form-fitting top that accentuated every inch of the curves he needed to touch. Now.

He reached for her. Before he could bend her over his arm and kiss the hell out of her again, Alex bounded up to him with a smile.

“You came! Did you bring Kiser?” he asked.

Burning to lay hands on Shelby and make her realize her reaction to him wasn’t ordinary, he looked at her hard.
Don’t do this,
her blue eyes seemed to plead. He pushed out the breath he’d been holding and gave Alex his attention.

He scrubbed a hand over the boy’s head and Alex leaned against his thigh, a warm, solid weight that brought Witt back in control of his surging desires. His mouth tugged into a smile. “I’d like you to come to my ranch and see Kiser.”

“I want to but Mom hasn’t said yes.” He screwed up his eyebrows.

Shelby drifted closer to him and Alex. “Actually I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve decided…we’ll come with you to the ranch, won’t we, Alex?”

Witt jolted in surprise and his heart broke free like a wild mustang. He locked his gaze on Shelby for a long second while his mind jumped ahead to getting her alone, learning every corner of her brain—and body—then proving his worth.

He cleared his throat. “I’d like that. When do you close?”

“It’s Saturday so…” She trailed off as if she’d forgotten, staring at his shirt buttons.

“Four o’clock,” Alex piped up.

“Smart boy,” Witt praised him. “I’ll be back for you at four then.”

Shelby twisted her hands together. “Today?”

“Do you want to tell this face he has to wait another week?” He tipped Alex’s head up so his mother could see his puppy-dog eyes.

“Good point.” A soft smile toyed with her lips.

Something deep broke inside Witt.

He removed his hand from Alex’s mop of hair and reached for Shelby. When he covered her warm hands with his, emotion shifted in his chest. Undeniable. All he had to do was persuade her that they needed to explore this attraction. He didn’t need much more time to contemplate the protective feeling she raised in him—he never dragged out a decision, especially once he knew what was right.

She pulled away from his touch. “Witt…”

He gave her a smile. “Yeah?”

“M-maybe I shouldn’t have agreed. I was too hasty in saying we’d come.”

“Not getting out of it now.” He ducked his head to fix her in his stare. “Besides, Momma’s got a big supper planned for you.”

“But you didn’t know I’d say yes!”

“I’m an optimistic man, Shelby.” He squeezed her hands and released them. “What do you say I take Alex to the school playground and introduce him to Mac at the general store while you finish the day?”

Alex bounced. “Yes!”

“Shelby?”

She sank her teeth into her lower lip, looking indecisive.

“I promise to take good care of him, and you know I won’t be stuffing him with sweets since you’ve got the only shop in town.”

“There’s always the coffee shop.”

“Good point. I can’t guarantee I
won’t
buy him an espresso.” He grabbed Alex’s hand and headed to the door. “Or a puppy,” he said before the bell jingled behind them.

As he led Alex down the sidewalk, the boy skipped and jabbered. He was glad to see him happy but it weighed on Witt. When he’d placed his hand in Witt’s and led him out of the shop, Shelby’s eyes had welled with tears.

He didn’t totally understand her worries over Alex, but he was damn well going to get her talking. Confiding, spilling her guts, sharing hopes and dreams. Maybe nothing would come of their mutual attraction in the end, but at least she’d know she had a friend in him.

Witt watched Alex go down the sliding board about 200 times. Then he pushed him on the swing until the boy said his stomach hurt. So Witt sank to the neighboring swing and they talked about fishing and hunting.

Alex said he didn’t have a daddy in his house to take him fishing. Witt studied the boy’s deep brown eyes, wanting so bad to offer to take him. But he bit his tongue before he made promises Shelby wouldn’t like him to keep.

“Think it’s time to help Mom close up shop?” he asked the boy. They’d never gotten to the general store. Alex had been easily entertained at the playground.

“Let me check the time.” He stuck his tongue between his teeth and squished up his face to look at the sun.

Witt chuckled and stood, cramped as hell after forcing his long legs into a position on that swing. “Are you any good at telling time by the sun?”

“Dunno. I think it’s nine-seventeen. Am I close?”

Laughing, Witt clamped a hand on Alex’s shoulder and they walked back to The Sweet Tooth. The place was empty and Shelby had the music turned up a bit louder. When she heard the bell jingle, she came out of the back room.

Flushed, a tendril of hair clinging to her damp cheekbone.

His heart turned over. Holding her gaze, he pushed behind the counter, grabbed her around the waist and started two-stepping her. Alex hooted with laughter. Shelby threw her head back and giggled.

The effects of that laugh burrowed into Witt’s body and his Wranglers grew a size too small. He spun her under his arm then reeled her close.

Every sweet, tormenting inch called to him. His mouth hovered over her upturned lips and he gazed into her eyes.

“Witt…”

He gave her a slow grin before releasing her. “Ready?”

Shelby let her gaze skitter over the brothers who looked so alike she’d never keep them straight. She’d have to resort to calling them Hunk 1, 2 and so on. During the fried chicken dinner she’d hardly been able to eat a bite under all those dark blue stares.

Alex had sat between her and Witt and managed to tuck away two whole drumsticks and a pile of potatoes that would feed a small family in a third world country. After that, the guys went out to do chores and the others drifted onto the porch.

All the Daltons were courteous, but it was impossible to ignore the knowing looks Witt’s mother, Maggie, threw at her.

“Here, have some dessert.” The woman named Charlotte had a baby in one hand and a Mason jar filled with berry cobbler in the other.

“Thank you.” Shelby accepted the jar and sank to the porch steps beside Alex. He was busy talking off Maggie’s ear. The woman wiped his cobbler-covered face with a big cloth napkin and nodded when he paused.

He really was a different child around the Daltons. Not a bit shy or withdrawn. If only he’d let his own mother in again. She had a feeling he was angry about the divorce and blaming her for his father being out of the picture. She’d discussed it with him, but he was so young, who knew if he understood?

One thing he understood was good food, fresh air and kind people.

Shelby spooned a bite of cobbler into her mouth. Decadent berry goodness made her taste buds sing. She groaned loudly.

Charlotte smiled. “Good, isn’t it? It’s one of Hank’s favorites.” Her gaze tracked across the yard to the barn where the brothers were doing evening chores. One had a pitchfork and another carried an enormous feed sack.

Shelby had no clue what was even involved in evening chores but the men sure looked fine doing it. Muscles bulging under their western shirts, thighs straining against worn jeans.

When Witt emerged from the barn with his hat tipped low, she froze with a bite halfway to her mouth. God, he was a beautiful man. Inside and out, it seemed. Playful, genuine. He knew what he wanted and right now that seemed to be her.

Chewing the delicious bite of cobbler, she tried to calm her hormones. She wasn’t here so Witt Dalton could drawl her panties off. No, she was here because Alex seemed to blossom around Witt—and the other Daltons.

She leaned against the porch post and watched Witt stick a long blade of grass in the corner of his mouth. He turned away from her and bent to heave another grain sack over his shoulder.

She stopped breathing. A V of perspiration wet his shirt back, molding it to carved muscles. Her fingers twitched to stroke them. She gripped the glass jar tighter and squinted into the setting sun.