Second Burn Cowboy (Second Chance Series Book 6) (19 page)

As she
made it around the corner, out of his sight, she turned and dashed toward the door, making her way through the bolt lock and chain. The chain had slid free. Then the tug came on her hair, a tingling at her scalp. Fear raced through her and on instinct, she lifted the knife and sliced him. Blood squirted as he pulled his wounded hand toward him, holding it against his chest. His chin came up, his eyes poisonous. “I’ll make you pay for this, cunt! Just you wait and see.”

She darted into the hall, jumped into th
e elevator and hit the button for the bottom floor, leaving a smear of blood on the panel. Once the doors slid closed, she grabbed the first thing she came to in her bag, wiped the panel and wrapped the knife in the cloth. A few seconds later, the door slid open and she strode out, looking both directions in the lobby. No one was around at this late hour.

She hurried toward the glass doors and jetted outside. Turning left,
the first trashcan she came to she’d dropped the wrapped knife in.

Pulling herself out of her reverie, she quickly dressed. She needed to find a way to forget.
To let the guilt fade.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“DRINK A BEER
and relax, bro.” Dante handed Deckland a cold one. “I’m glad you decided to come. I’d have kicked your ass if you chose not to show up for my birthday.”

Deckland sighed. “I wouldn’t have missed your birthday for anything in the world.
Happy birthday, Dante.” He saluted him with the bottle and brought it to his lips, taking a long sip.

Dillon
approached them. “Dante, you look about as shitty as I feel.”

“Tha
nks, Dilly. Wait until the babies are born. I have a feeling we won’t know what sleep is.” Dante shook his head.

“Late night run for ice cream too?” Dillon asked.

“No. April wanted pickles. The ten jars of variety—dill, garlic, sweet, you name it— in our fridge weren’t good enough. She wanted a pickle from the deli, some odd spiced one. And by the time I made it back home, she was sound asleep.”

Deckland laughed.

“I’m glad you think this is funny, bro,” Dillon snarled.

“I do. I slept good last night,” Deckland said with a wriggle of his brows.

“You wait, Deck. Your time is coming.” Dillon and Dante clanked bottles.

“If you say so.” Deckland doubted his time would ever come. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but he did envy his
brothers’ happiness. Nearing forty, he’d like to think he could settle down and have a few kids before he started getting senior citizen benefits.

As his br
others dispersed, Deckland was left with his beer. He had the bottle to his mouth when he saw Elsa walk into the backyard, carrying a large pink box. His chest did a weird number, and he swallowed a much-needed drink. Her chin came up and her gaze slipped across the distance, melting with his. He couldn’t decipher the look. Was she glad to see him? Repulsed?

No, a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

Hell, he needed to quit worrying and wondering.

It seemed like everything
imaginable popped up when he was trying to get to know her better. They may have gone a little too fast at first, but he was willing to go as slow as necessary until she was comfortable.

But the
wishy-washy treatment wouldn’t work.

He’
d never had trouble attracting women, and he’d never been shy, but there was something about Elsa that made him feel like he had two heads and walked on his hands instead of his feet.

Elsa
had a fire within her that she maintained at a slow simmer. She held herself back and he wanted to understand why. He guessed she thought he wouldn’t understand, but he doubted there was anything that would sink the attraction in his gut.

The time had come that he quit wasting time and find out what she hid. He discarded his beer in the metal trashcan as he made his way toward
her—anxiety making his spine tingle. She leveled him with a drop-dead gorgeous smile and his heart did a loop, and then he realized that wasn’t
his
smile. April and Peyton were the winners of Elsa’s attention—for now. He growled in frustration.

He was
determined to find a way to impress her.

If only she were easily captivated.
He knew she wasn’t the type who liked flowers. Or a lot of attention. She liked a simple, straightforward man who didn’t rely on flashy attempts to gain her charm.

He watched and waited.
Peyton and April took the box from Elsa, and she was alone. Deckland took a step toward her but stopped when Tucker greeted her. Elsa offered him a sweet smile and Tucker beamed. Deckland wasn’t a good gauge for rating handsome men, but if he had to give it a shot, he’d say Tucker rated about a nine on a scale of ten. He was a nice guy, and Deckland respected his work ethics and knowledge. Obviously, Tucker found Elsa attractive, but there was something about her body language that told Deckland she wasn’t interested in the younger cowboy.

This encouraged Deckland to interrupt them. When he stepped next to Elsa, she didn’t offer him a smile, but he could see the fast beating of her pulse in her neck and that told him a lot. Her sweet scent wafted along his nose and he i
nhaled sharply. His body ached in need.

“Hey, Deckland.” Tu
cker interrupted Deckland’s thoughts.

“How’s it going, Tucker?” Deckland dragged his gaze away from Elsa and onto his ranch hand.

“Great. It was nice seeing you, Elsa. I’ll catch you both later.” Tucker dipped his hat and left Deckland and Elsa alone.

“How are you?” Dec
kland asked.

“I’m doing okay. You?”

“I can’t complain.” He scratched his jaw. “Things aren’t going to be uncomfortable with us, are they?”

She shrugged, sending the strap of her dress down her slender shoulder. His fingers ached to tug it back into place, but she was on it before he could m
ove. “Why should they be?”

“Y
ou tell me.” She was everything he’d wanted, and yet she was like a faucet, he never knew if he’d get hot or cold water. He’d vowed he’d never open himself up to emotional pain. But like a dumbass, he couldn’t imagine not seeing Elsa.

At his age, he’d never expect to be vulnerable, open to pain, and it scared the hell out of him. And yet, he felt good, too.

Hell, he was in deep shit!

He needed to find a rope to pull himself out, but he doubted he’d find one.

He skimmed his gaze along the silken length of her neck to the creamy flesh of her chest and the tops of her breasts. He didn’t need to see her naked to remember every inch, every soft curve of her luscious body. He’d fantasized about the things he wanted to do with her, pleasurable interludes they could share.

“Elsa, come here. I want you to meet someone,” Peyton yelled from across the yard.

“I guess I better go. Can we talk later?” Elsa’s long eyelashes swept across the tops of her freckle-scattered cheeks.

He nodded. “Sure.”

Watching her walk away, his gut clenched. He should run as fast as his feet would carry him.

“I haven’t seen you drooling over someone like that since
high school.” Dillon approached him, breaking into Deckland’s mental wanderings.

“I don’t know what in the hell you
’re talking about,” he grunted.

“I’m glad
you’re finally opening yourself up to a relationship, but be careful there, bro.” Dillon’s voice sobered.

“What do you mean?” Deckland narrowed his eyes.

“While I was coming up to the house one day while Elsa was staying with you I happened to see a fancy car parked in the drive. Curious, I investigated and found Elsa and some pretty boy out back on the patio. I started to introduce myself, but I realized, by body language, they weren’t having a casual chat. It was more like a lover’s quarrel. I watched for a bit to make sure she was okay, and the stranger finally left. I asked Peyton if she had any clue who he was and she thought it could be her ex.”

Deckland rubbed his chin as the puzzle pieces scattered more. What was he missing? “Interesting.”

“I’m getting the idea you didn’t know she had company.” Dillon sighed. “Sorry, bro.”

Dec
kland shrugged. “No worries, Dilly. I know she has a past. I just haven’t scraped away the details yet.”

“Well, I hope you do, Deck
. Peyton and April think she’s a perfect match for you. I’m sure if it’s meant to happen, it will.”

Lifting his gaze, Deckland saw
Elsa lighting the candles on the birthday cake. Tendrils of her hair swept around her cheeks and she brought a hand up and pushed them away. He kept his eyes on her long, slender fingers and pale pink nails—fingers that he longed to have on his body again, not just once more, but for as long as he was alive. She was hot in bed, and he knew that after what they’d shared in his truck, but there was so much more to her than sex appeal. Somehow, she’d reached inside of his chest, clutched his heart and she hadn’t quite let go since.

She’d also made him feel more alive than he had in years.

But he’d known all along she was hiding something from her past. And now, he’d been handed a large piece of the puzzle and he needed to find out the facts.

April said something and Elsa bent her head back and
laughed—a beautiful, melodic sound that washed him with warm honey. She was unlike any other woman he’d ever known, ever had in his life. She blew him away on every level.

There were so many traps and hurdles on the path. Although he wanted to strip h
imself of every boundary, a sliver of warning flashed in his mind. Who was this man who’d come to visit her? And why hadn’t she told him?

If he asked her what she was hiding
, would she answer? Or would she run away, again?

It was a risk. Hell, she was a ri
sk. But he had to take chances to move forward in their relationship, or whatever it was called.

H
ow had his life gotten so complicated?

Elsa stepped b
ack from the table and her gaze met Deckland’s. A cotton-candy smile made her lips look absolutely kissable. He could, for a very moment, forget there was a lot he didn’t know about her. He could sink himself into her innocent eyes, expression, and bury himself in the cocoon of her sweet body. He could live off the sexual harmony…but living for the moment wouldn’t work any longer.

“Earth to Deck.” The whispered voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Deckland looked at Peyton
, who was smiling ear to ear, a pink paper plate filled with cake held out for him. “A piece for you.”

“Thank you.” He took the offering
, forked a mouthful of the delicious treat and contemplated his next move. He’d get to the bottom of this, whatever it took.

****

Deckland had left the party early, and Elsa was determined to find out why he’d gone without even saying goodbye.

Irritation
coursed through her as she stomped across the porch at Brooke Creek and pounded the screen door. When her attempt didn’t reward her with an answer, she yelled, “Deckland Brooke, I know you’re in there.”

“And you’re quite m
istaken.”

Turning, she foun
d him sitting in the shadows of the falling sunlight. His hat was pulled low over his forehead, preventing her from seeing his face. Marching across the wooden planks, her flip-flops
clacked
loudly as she approached him. She came to a stop directly in front of him, propping her fists on hips and tilting her chin. “Why?”

“Why what?” H
e kept his head down.

“Why did you leave without so much as a glance my way?” she huffed.

Using a knuckle, he pushed his hat up and she got a good look at his steely gaze. “I have a question. What man came to visit you here?” She dropped her arms to her sides and frowned as her stomach looped. “Hell, you can have anyone visit you, Elsa, but I feel like you’re hiding something. Isn’t it time you came clean?”

“Who told you?”

“Does it matter?”

She shrugged. “Guess not. I reckon I do have some explaining to do.”

“It’s high time you let me in on why your past keeps you imprisoned.”

Taking the seat on his left, she prepared herself
in revealing the facts that she’d kept secret from everyone. “I guess I should start from the beginning. I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. As you know, I didn’t have the most glamourous childhood. My mom spent most of her days at the local bar or stretched out in the backseat with her man of the hour. I guess I should be grateful that she never brought them home.” She shrugged and relaxed into the chair, staring at the pinkish streaked sky. “I swore I’d be different, but it’s hard for a girl to outgrow her white trash roots in a small town. So, when a smooth-talking, handsome stranger with maturity and money came knocking, I thought I was something special when I went out with him. I’d like to blame my naivety on my age at the time, and that he was older, but I can’t deny I saw him as my way out as much as I enjoyed his company. I thought it was love, but it wasn’t.”