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She nodded, her smile vanishing.
“If you’re a bad person, then so am I because I’m not going to turn you down.” His hand brushed the hair from her forehead. “Thought a lot about this?”
“All night.” Which was true.
He nodded. “Sneaking around and keeping secrets? In Fort Kyle?” His hand cupped her cheek, one finger sweeping her lower lip. “Easier said than done.”
His touch was too much. But his words struck a nerve. Maybe she was fooling herself. How could they get away with this? “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Not so sure now?” he asked. “Might be too risky?” He leaned forward to run his nose along her throat. “I’m not trying to change your mind. I’m all for it, Goldilocks. But, like you said, neither one of us needs complications. So you let me know when you’re sure this is what you really want to do.” He released her and stepped away, leaving her reeling and flushed and oh-so needy. “I’m good with whatever you decide.”
Whatever she decided. She wasn’t sure why that bothered her. Almost like he’d be perfectly fine to forget last night happened. Yes, that would be easier. But she didn’t know how to do that.
“I’ll let you know about when we get the truck hauled in.” He was talking about trucks and phone numbers, acting like nothing out of the normal was happening. Her body was one throbbing pulse, thanks to him. He was sliding on his coat, putting on his hat, getting ready to leave. And she just stood there, staring and beyond confused.
He opened the door but looked back at her. “You look beautiful today, India.” And with that, he was gone.
What had just happened? She stared out the window. Disappointment slammed into her, hard and urgent. He was leaving. Acting like he was fine either way. Which is good. She was the one who had told him how it was going to be—then panicked when he pointed out it might not be as easy as they’d like. She’d regret it, if they got caught. But she knew, deep down, she’d regret not taking the risk more. If she were being honest, the risk made it only more exciting—something she hadn’t had much of in years.
His headlights turned on, spurring her into action. She grabbed her phone to type, I’m sure. I think it will be worth the risk, but realized he had her number but she didn’t have his. She headed to the door, but he was already driving down Main Street, his taillights disappearing in the rain.
* * *
BRODY TURNED OFF Main Street, his windshield wipers on high. Not that the rain could shake his good mood. India Boone was giving him a chance. She might not know it, thinking she could do this no-strings thing, but he’d do his damnedest to show her just how good it could be between them—and not just in bed. Sure, her proposal had thrown him for a loop. But he understood. She was still too hell-bent on getting away from this place to ever get involved with a man who called Fort Kyle home. It would take time, charm and sheer determination, but he’d show her the town was bigger and better than the bad blood between her and her father. And having her in his bed... His hands tightened on the steering wheel at the thought. He’d never wanted a woman as powerfully as he wanted India.
The rain picked up, forcing him to slow and turn his attention to driving. Fort Kyle needed water, but this had all the earmarks of a flash flood. Too much rain too quick led to washed-out fences, stranded livestock and accidents.
For years, he’d ached to hold India close, to have her pressed against him, clinging to his shirt and kissing him as if her life depended on it. Last night she had. Nothing had felt better—felt more right—than that kiss.
Now she was offering him a whole lot more than just kisses. And while his heart was on the line, he’d risk it. She was worth it. To see her smile and laugh, to make her happy and love her the way he’d always wanted. For now, he had what he always wanted. Yep, he was feeling pretty damn lucky.
Lucky or not, he was feeling like an idiot when he pulled under the covered driveway of the feed store and parked. He had no doubt Jared, the man who ran Wallace Feed Store and Farm Equipment, was scratching his head over Brody’s need to pick up supplies now—in the middle of the biggest storm these parts had seen for years. But if he hadn’t come into town for supplies, he’d have had no excuse to see India. His cover story about the girls’ birthday was a bit flimsy on its own.
“Jared.” He nodded at the old man.
“Brody.” The man nodded back. “Luke, give Mr. Wallace a hand, boy.”
Brody shouldered a fifty-pound bag of feed and carried it to his truck. Jared’s teenage nephew Luke helped him load his truck bed with five bags of feed, ten bags of deer corn, protein and salt blocks, a few rolls of barbed wire and a new post hole digger.
“Hell of a rain,” Jared Beasley said, his battered feed store hat pushed back on his head. “Fence wash out?” he asked, eyeing the new wire.
“Not yet.” Brody grinned. “But I want to be prepared in case.”
“How’s your father?” Jared had been working at the feed store for as long as Brody could remember. The man had well-creased leather skin and a piercing gaze, and he kept his ear to the ground. He was fair and honest—two things Vic Wallace valued above all else. Which made Jared one of his father’s favorite employees.
“Stubborn as a mule and twice as mean,” he answered, laughing with Jared.
“Sounds about right.” The older man nodded, still grinning.
“But he’s healing,” Brody tacked on. “He’s supposed to be taking it easy, but I don’t see him listening for much longer.” He pulled a tarp from his toolbox and shook it out, then tied it securely over his truck bed to keep his supplies dry.
“That’s it, Mr. Wallace,” Luke said, nodding at him. “Need anything else?”
“That should do it. Thank you, Luke.”
The boy nodded, glanced out into the thick sheets of rain and headed back inside.
With a wave for Jared, Brody climbed into the truck. His phone started ringing. He sighed, pulled his phone out and answered it. His mother. When she learned he was in town, she rattled off a small grocery list, including food for Lollipop, who had a sensitive stomach.
