Breaking A Bad Boy Read online

  “What do you aim on doing?” Brandon asked. “And don’t try and shit us.”

  Rory stared back at his brother. “Going to her. Staying outside her house. All night, if that’s what it takes.”

  “Don’t suspect you want any company?” Matt asked, trading a glance with Brandon.

  He stepped closer to his brothers. “I appreciate what you have done and what you are doing, but no. I’ll be back by tomorrow morning and ready to do whatever Miller suggests, but right now, I’m out of here.”

  “He seems in his right mind,” Matt said, turning to Brandon. “What do you say?”

  Brandon shifted his gaze between Rory and Matt. “If it were one of us, think anyone could keep us from our woman?”

  “Naw. Point taken,” Matt agreed.

  “Take it easy,” Brandon said, facing him with an unflinching expression.

  Silently, his brothers regarded him. Both were hardcore to the bone, and he realized that they needed some assurances that he wasn’t about to do something stupid.

  “You got my word on that,” Rory said, digging into his front pocket and taking out his keys. “Now, instead of standing there, staring a hole through me, back your truck out.”

  His brothers slapped him on the back before they wordlessly climbed into Matt’s truck, and drove off, back to their homes and their women. Now, he was off to go and find his. Tearing off down the road, he headed onto the interstate and was over past Old Towne in less than twenty minutes.

  For a couple of blocks, a police cruiser tailed him, but stopped and did a U-turn in one of the intersections, lights swirling and siren blaring. At night this section of town, which had once boasted of nice middle class houses, was becoming more desolate with each foreclosure. Less well-cared for as the sales signs took up residence in the front yards of numerous unoccupied houses. His brothers were right about this being a community issue, with people moving away in droves. Up ahead was Sommer’s street, and as he turned, he went past a house with all the windows boarded up after the glass had been shattered. He noticed that the outside walls had been recently tagged with black spray paint. A man was on the porch, and Rory couldn’t tell if he lived there or was squatting. No lights were on, and the man sat on the porch swing, motionless.

  He drove on past and stopped in front of Sommer’s house. Her car sat parked in the driveway, along with another—her aunt’s, and lights glowed from the windows. He pulled up to the curb and breathed out a sigh of relief, seeing that she’d made it home.

  Inside the white picket fence was a profusion of color, out of place considering the state of the homes on either side. Her mother’s rose garden. He hadn’t ever seen so many different shades of red or pink or varieties of roses. Not much of a lawn left with the arbors and narrow paths treading between the rose bushes. He’d helped her mother on occasion by doing the trimming and mulching. He also built and staked the arbors in return for spending time with Sommer.

  To think that Mike had reached out to Sommer had Rory gripping the steering wheel, raring to go and find that cocksucker.

  That’s not what Sommer needs right now. Only that single idea kept him sane. He sat in his truck, parked at the curb, and watched the house for movement. Hard to see through the hazy film of curtains hanging in the windows, but enough to observe a shadow approach the front window, draw the curtain, and then wave. Long blond hair reflected the interior lights, but veiled Sommer’s beautiful face. His heart pumped harder in his chest, needing to connect with her, face-to-face, if not closer. He climbed out of his truck, and by the time he came around the hood, Sommer was coming down the walkway toward the front gate.

  They both reached the gate at the same time. He couldn’t be bothered to deal with the gate’s latch, and he reached over, hauling her up and into his arms. “I can’t let you go for more than a few minutes, Sommer. You know that.”

  He carried her to his truck, opened the passenger side, and placed her on the seat. He pushed her legs open and brought her as close as humanly possible to him, drinking in her scent. He scraped his cheek against hers and curled his fingers under her chin, turning her mouth to him.

  “I can’t leave, I’m on parent duty,” she said.

  “That’s fine. But I’m not leaving you either.”

  “Rory, you can’t say out here all night,” Sommer replied, caressing his face.

  “Why not?” he asked, searching her eyes for signs that she was scared. For some proof that she needed his help. “I don’t want you to be alone. Not tonight.”

  “I’m not going to fall apart.” She pinned him with a resolute look that filled her golden eyes. Unblinking, she regarded him calmly and stopped his mental tirade.

  “Naw, I don’t believe you to be the type to fall apart,” he replied.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. Cowboy, if I admit that driving away from you almost did me in tonight, would you please not use that against me?” She flashed him a smile, one that made his breath hitch and his cock harden.

  “Not if I can help it.” He leaned over and swung his arm around her, lifting the apron and holding it up to her chest. “Best apron ever.”

  “I’m so sorry I had to leave you. One day, I hope—”

  He laid his finger against her lips and whispered, “Ssshhh.” Their gazes locked, and they closed the distance between their mouths simultaneously. The second her lips touched his, he lost his train of thought for several thuds of his heart. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, tangling her tongue with his, and growled his need for her. She tasted so sweet and so his. Sommer ran her hands up his arms, and hooked her fingers behind his neck, rising so that her tits teased his chest. His heart thudded heavy along his ribs, now joined by hers. Two hearts, beating separately, but together.

  “You don’t have to explain a thing. I trust you. Love you. Would move heaven and earth for you, darlin’.”

  “Babe, I love you back,” she whispered softly, tracing her fingers along his face.

  Where Sommer was concerned, he could never get enough of her—emotionally, physically, or the head-trip they shared.

  CHAPTER 15

  “YOU’RE TOO GOOD to be true,” she exhaled the words, holding onto Rory for dear life. Never had she felt this safe with anyone else, or as loved. Seeing him so soon after she’d stormed away from his new place had her convinced. She would never, ever do what Mike had suggested. Not to Rory after he’d always been there for her.

  “Marry me,” he whispered, against her mouth.

  Her heart thudded and then raced as she hugged Rory tighter. Her whole body trembled as adrenaline coursed through her veins. In his arms, she felt alive and her body on fire and it dawned on her: he was her adventure and she didn’t want to let him go.

  Can you feel a tiny piece of what I’m feeling? Silently she questioned him, holding back from giving him her answer just yet.

  A dog barked off in the distance and the wind rustled through the trees, lifting the scent of night blooming jasmine. How many times had they been outside her mom’s house and she’d inhaled that scent with his arms around her? Countless since high school. Rory wasn’t just her past. He was her future. Her heart squeezed in her chest. If she didn’t have this humongous pile of crap to deal with…she would shout her answer. Yes! He’d proven that they were more than compatible on so many, many levels. If there were a perfect man for her—he was standing right in front of her.

  “I want to…please,” she stuttered, choking back a groan. “Give a week and I’ll give you an answer. Cross my heart!”

  “You serious?” he asked, tipping her chin up to him and meeting her eyes. All at once his shocked expression gave way to one of his dimpled heart-stopping grins. He plucked her off the front seat, hugging her as he pivoted them around in a circle on the sidewalk. “Baby, do you realize, this is the first time you haven’t turned me down? Flat. No speeches about being free or that we’re too young.”

  “Not a one,” she said, staring up into his beautifu
l face and anxious to find a solution to her problem. With her pulse roaring in her ears, she vowed that she’d find a freaking answer and then she’d tell him. Yes! Yes!

  “Okay. Then a week.” He laughed, squeezing her tighter, and swung her around again. “I can live with that timeline.”

  Oh God, the look on his face would be inspiration for a camera commercial, she’d bet. Bet. She wanted to have that word stricken from her vocabulary—and moreover, from Webster’s. There was nothing to bet on. He was her sure thing. All this time he’d waited for her silly fantasies to run their course, and never lost his faith in her.

  “McLemore, I love you,” she replied, stroking her hand along his face. “But speaking of time, I’d better get back inside. Momma’s having one of her moments.”

  Rory looked back toward the house. “Is that why your aunt is here?”

  “Yep. That date Mom went on…didn’t work out. Aunt Belinda and I are trying to convince Momma to start taking her medicine again. We’ve been through this before, but this time my aunt has agreed if Momma can get stable, then she could go live with her. I have been through this a time or two, so I’m not counting any chickens, from either one of them.”

  “You sure, you don’t want me to stay?” he asked, cinching his arms around her tighter.

  “Of course I want you to, but you’ve got work tomorrow, even if it is the weekend. And Momma’s fretting about everything under the sun, including that you’re out here and not coming inside.”

  “Let me say hello and then I’ll go,” he said, leaning over and kissing her.

  The giddy sensation that his demanding lips commandeered, roiled inside her as rippling hot waves bubbled upward. She closed her eyes, savoring the rushing sensation along with the feel Rory’s arms encasing her, so firm and tight she could barely breathe. Delightfully strange to be caged and yet, paradoxically set free by his ability to calm her in the middle of a raging storm. A shiver wracked through her from her, and she moaned, wishing they could freely explore this desire they shared. One day, she promised herself.

  When he released her from his kiss, she panted out, “Hard to say goodbye after that. Come in for just a quick ‘Hello’ before we both implode.”

  Momma was beyond just being in one of her states, she was plummeting after she’d come to the realization that her new friend was not Prince Charming, and he wasn’t going to rescue her. When her mother’s manic spells ran their course, the other side came on fast, and the drop could be severe. Rory had already seen this side of her mom. Since high school, he’d been helpful in lending support, driving them wherever they needed to go, and being the ultimate sounding board when she needed to talk.

  He followed her inside and she softly closed the front door. Momma’s nerves were more like frayed live wires and anything jarring caused her to flinch and jump. Sommer met her mom’s gaze. “Momma, Aunt Belinda. Rory’s here and wanted to say hello.”

  Momma went to rise, but Aunt Belinda placed her hand on her mom’s arm. “No need to get up, Rae. Rory’s not staying.”

  “Evening Mrs. Kincaid and Miss Wright,” Rory said, smiling as he reached down to pet her cat, Dandelion’s head.

  “How’s the cattle drive going?” Momma’s eyes shifted nervously between Sommer and Rory. “Would you like something? Sommer, get Rory a cold drink.”

  “It’s near done, and no thanks, I just stopped by to speak with Sommer and then I’m my way back to the ranch.”

  “Momma, maybe you’d like something. How about some tea?” Sommer asked.

  “That would hit the spot nicely. With honey, please,” her mother said. “Belinda, what about you?”

  “No thanks. But Sommer, bring your momma’s medicine with her tea.”

  Momma shook her head vigorously, waving her hands. “Belinda, I don’t like those pills….I can’t swallow them.”

  Aunt Belinda turned to Momma, addressing her sister’s disagreement. “Rae, let’s try. They will help you sleep. You can’t stay up all night, and it’s getting late.”

  “I can sleep without them. But fine.” Her mother pouted, then reached for the deck of cards. “Let’s play a hand and afterwards, I’ll take my pills.”

  Oh brother. Her mom was still quick on the draw to finagle her older sister. “Shake on it,” Aunt Belinda huffed. “One hand.”

  “Come with me while I make a cup a tea,” she said, tugging Rory’s fingers. “Otherwise, you’ll get suckered into a hand of who knows what.”

  Rory followed her into the kitchen, standing by the sink as she filled the kettle and placed it on the burner. She opened the cabinet and removed a box of tea as Rory silently walked over to the side counter, opened the cabinet, and brought out a cup.

  “Here.” He placed the cup on the counter.

  She moved it to a tray and opened another cabinet, retrieving a pill bottle of lithium. Her mom was diagnosed years ago as bipolar and was still prescribed lithium; only problem was getting her to take the prescription consistently. More often than not, as soon as Momma felt stable, she believed the medication was no longer necessary, and the cycle of mania and depression rapidly followed.

  “Your mom doesn’t seem as down as before,” he commented in a low voice.

  “You know how my aunt is, more like a drill sergeant than the average sister. She won’t let her get in a bad way.”

  “She’s a force, that’s for sure. I still remember her at the high school plays,” he remarked. “Too bad she doesn’t still teach.”

  “For whom?” Sommer laughed, dropping a bag of chamomile tea into the mug. She placed a plastic bear of honey and a teaspoon next to the cup. “She scared me, and I’m her niece.”

  “The plays were always good, so maybe it worked out.” He came behind her, sweeping her hair away from her neck, and planted his mouth on her skin, drawing her hips back against him. “So very good,” he groaned low.

  She didn’t fight what she felt, and arched her body, driving her bottom against him as she rubbed her hands over his, holding onto her. Rory skimmed his lips along her neck, then down to her shoulder. Hours ago, she’d been out of this dress and wearing next to nothing, skating a fine line. Right now, the heat of his mouth set her on fire all over again. Oh, how she wanted to stop thinking and just be in the moment with Rory, and his off the charts ability to drive her over the brink.

  They were so close, on so many levels. But how to bridge the gap to the other side of what they both yearned for? How was she going to take care of her father’s gambling debt? Not one answer–not one possibility cropped up. Only more difficult questions.

  Rory released his hold on her for a second before he turned her around. “I want you so much. I’d take you tonight, do you realize that?” He swung her around and ground himself against her. “I fully understand that you can’t leave, but I swear, I’m at the edge. Baby, I was wrong and I’m the first to admit it, rather than risk losing you. I love you more than my damn pride. Enough that you can trust me not to hurt you, Kincaid.”

  “I do. Love and trust you. I also appreciate how impulsive decisions can wreck things.” She searched his handsome face, and wishing she could spill her troubles and not seeing how that would help. She loved him as much as he loved her, and that meant she had to find her own solution. She squeezed his arms and conceded, “About the edge, you have a point.”

  “Oh yeah.” He chuckled. “And it’s hard.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I was talking about waiting. Like what you’ve always said. For every season…”

  He exhaled. “A reason.” Threading her fingers with his, Rory placed her hand on his hard-on. The kettle whistled and he grunted. “Saved by the bell.”

  SOMMER’S cell phone chirped and she picked it up, imagining what her handsome cowboy had to say. Except the text wasn’t from Rory saying he was back home. She read the message. Call me. BIG NEWS!

  It was from Ivy, and Sommer dialed her friend’s number. She couldn’t get a greeting out before she heard a pier
cing holler, so loud she held her cell phone away from her ear. “What’s bigger than getting engaged?” she asked, staring her cell and waiting to hear if Ivy was still too excited to talk.

  “Sommer?” Ivy hollered again, amidst loud music in the background, and Sommer lowered the volume for the sake of her eardrums.

  “Oh. My. God! Did you elope?” Sommer asked in a dither, almost dropping her phone.

  “Girl, your imagination is still as fertile as ever. Absolutely not yet, but I have sensational news!”

  “Okay, then tell me what’s your big, louder than hell news?” Sommer demanded, then gasped, putting aside her question if Ivy was pregnant. Time didn’t move that fast.

  “You’re coming out to L.A.”

  “Come again,” Sommer huffed, flopping down onto her bed. “I couldn’t hear what you just said.”

  “Sommer Kincaid listen closely.” Ivy laughed. “You. Are. Coming. To. Los. Angeles!”

  She stared at the wall opposite her bed, at the bulletin board where a slew of her photos were pinned into a chaotic collage. The colors swirled together until she blinked.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m sending you a ticket, and all you need to bring is a bikini and your ink gun,” Ivy said. “And some shorts, tanks, and flip-flops. That’s it.”

  “Why are you sending me a ticket?” Sommer laughed. “If you’re not getting married, like in the next week?”

  “O.M.G!” Ivy hollered again. “Vince’s tattoo is appearing in Rolling Stone.”

  “The Rolling Stone? Magazine?” Sommer sprang into a sitting position and gripped her phone.

  “Uh-huh. And the journalist suggested that the tattoo artist—you, babe—do the interview, too.”

  “Okay. Cool,” she said, wondering how she could get away from here, even with a ticket. The timing was horrible. She’d have to forego work—money she couldn’t give up. “Listen, Ivy, that sounds terrific, but I can’t leave right now. I’m kinda in a financial jam and need to stay here to earn some money.”