Fall To Pieces Page 2
Dylan sighed. No surprise Molly was trying to push him on Sadie. Even back in high school, she'd never missed an opportunity to talk up her best friend to Dylan. At the time, Dylan hadn't taken the bait because, to put it bluntly, as sweet and funny and smart as Sadie was, she'd had all the sex appeal of a broom stick.
And now, as tempted as he was by the knockout Sadie had become, the memory of her, in all her sweet, funny, broom-sticky awkwardness was enough to remind him of why he couldn't make a play.
"You know me Molly. Things haven't changed too much since high school. You don't want your friend with a guy like me."
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Sadie could barely hear the strains of Dwight Yoakum's Little Sister over the roaring in her head as Brady twirled her around the Last Chance's crowded dance floor. Thank God he was a strong lead, because her limbs still hadn't recovered from the way Dylan Decker had looked at her.
It was a fantasy come true, the way his blue eyes had glimmered with appreciation as they lingered over a face that had finally grown into its too big eyes and too wide mouth. Over the long, lean body that had mercifully developed breasts and hips her sophomore year of college.
Oh my God, Dylan Decker was totally checking me out. And now I feel like I'm going to faint.
And, OK, a big part of that wasn't just from the way Dylan had looked at her, it was how he looked himself.
As in, completely, utterly, smoking hot. Of course, he always had been, somehow smoothly transitioning from a good looking, lanky kid into a high school hunk who filled out his football uniform in a way that didn't go unnoticed by any heterosexual female in a fifty mile radius.
If the last ten years had been kind to Sadie, they'd been equally generous with Dylan, she thought as she peeked around Brady's shoulder to get a better view of Dylan smoothly moving Molly across the floor.
It didn't seem possible that a near perfect specimen like Dylan could get any better looking, but somehow he had. Time had further defined his already chiseled features. Fine lines bracketed his mouth and radiated out from his blue eyes, adding a depth and maturity to his face that made him infinitely more attractive.
Dylan's full mouth curved into a smile as he spun Molly around, giving her an unimpeded view of his back. And oh my God, his body. From her estimation, Dylan had added a solid twenty five, maybe thirty pounds to his tall frame, and from what she could see of the muscles straining against the thin fabric of his olive green t-shirt, not an ounce of it was fat.
Bigger, harder, hotter...
Oh my God, get a grip on yourself. Seeing the guy you were in half in love with all through middle school and high school is not a legitimate cause for a heart attack.
"Good to see you out tonight," Brady said over the music. "You've been keeping yourself scarce."
Sadie gave herself a mental shake, and focused on Brady.
"I've been crazy busy," she said. "I've barely had time to breathe, but Molly twisted my arm into taking a break."
"You sure it was Molly who convinced you to come out?" There was no mistaking the teasing note in his voice as he gave her hip a little squeeze, and no pretending he didn't see her following Dylan's every move over his shoulder.
Sadie wasn't about to admit out loud that she'd come out tonight because she knew Dylan was flying in today and that he and Damon were planning to stop at the Last Chance.
But the sheepish look she gave Brady pretty much said it for her.
"Then what the hell are you doing dancing with me?" he grinned, his silvery gray eyes glinting with humor. That sexy smile and a body that rivaled Dylan's and the other Decker brothers’ had charmed many a woman passing through Sweet Grass county out of her panties since he'd moved here to work at Adele's cafe as a favor to his best friend Damon.
While Sadie was certainly not immune to the appeal, she knew better to push their flirty friendship any farther.
Especially when anyone with eyes in her head could see that despite his dalliances, Brady had his eye firmly on her best friend Molly.
"Come on," he said and started pulling her across the dance floor, toward the other couple.
"Whatever you're doing, I don't think it's a good idea," she said, squeezing his hand in a death grip as they got within a few feet of Dylan and Molly. Christ, she could barely talk to Dylan standing still. Doing it while moving her body in a semi-coordinated fashion?
All the makings for a disaster.
Then it was too late, as Brady tapped Dylan on the shoulder and swapped dance partners in one smooth motion.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Molly scowl and stomp off the floor.
Then she couldn't think of anything but the feel of Dylan's hard chest pressed against hers, his big hand curling around her fingers and the sway of his hips as he moved.
The music changed, slowing to a ballad. He adjusted their position, shifting her closer, close enough she could feel his legs brush hers with every step.
That heart pounding, suffocating, about-to-pass-out feeling came over her again, and she was suddenly desperate to get away. Stop it! She snapped at herself. You are no longer the skinny, awkward, braces-wearing giraffe girl too scared to talk to the boy you like! You are a grown up, a grown up who is actually attractive enough people wanted to take your picture to advertise their clothes! Attractive enough that most men, INCLUDING THIS ONE, take notice of you! Now stop acting like a loser and seize the freaking day!
Her mental ass kicking managed to get rid of most of the panicky feeling, and she smiled up at Dylan in her best imitation of an I'm-sexy-and-I-know-it kind of girl. "I bet your mom will lose her mind when she sees you managed to get away for Deck's party."
Oh, nice opener, talking about his mom.
He smiled down at her and she nearly fell over. "I imagine so. It will be even worse when she finds out I'm staying for almost a whole month."
Her eyebrows shot up her forehead. "A month? I thought you guys only got like, forty-eight hour furloughs or something like that."
"Usually that's true," he said, his smile tensing so subtly she wouldn't have noticed had she not been mesmerized at the way his lips formed the words. "But I have a few more weeks of recovery till I'm back on active duty, and my CO thought it would be good for me."
"The way you say it doesn't sound like you agree," she said.
His shoulder shifted under her hand in a shrug, tempting her to trace her fingers over the hard bulge of muscle. "I heard about your injury, but I didn't realize you were still recovering." Her throat clenched like it had when she'd first learned he was injured, imagining him wounded in a hospital on the other side of the world.
"I'm fine now," he said quickly. "Back to a hundred percent. The evaluation at the end of the month is just a formality."
"It must have been so awful—"
"Nothing out of the ordinary in my line of work," he interrupted. "Speaking of injury, I was sorry to hear about your dad. How's he doing?"
Okay, subject of his injury was obviously closed. "Better," she sighed. "I swear though, when I moved back last spring to help out, I never thought I'd be staying this long." Back in April, her father had suffered a massive heart attack, and Sadie had left her job in San Francisco with a leading mobile app company to look after her father and help run his horse breeding operation outside of town.
"Can't wait to get back to the hustle and bustle of the big city, huh?"
She smiled up at him. "There's that. There's also the fact that while I'm stuck here, my career is stuck in a holding pattern." Before she left, she'd been on track to be promoted to an executive role within the next twelve months. She'd managed to keep an income stream doing freelance work, but she missed working with a team, missed the energy and camaraderie that came with a fast-paced, leading edge company.
Not to mention, her father didn't exactly accept her help and her advice without protest. Though it was great catching up with old friends, especially Molly, she was ready to get back to her real life, where people a
ppreciated all of her hard work and ability.
But she wasn't about to go into that tonight. Tonight was about having fun and showing the hottest guy on the planet that she was so not the awkward dork he remembered from high school.
"I know the feeling," he said grimly as the music wound down.
She moved closer, heart pounding against her chest as she mustered up the courage to make her move. "As long as we're both stuck here—" the last part of her line was lost as Dylan stepped left, Sadie stepped right, and somehow got her leg tangled with his.
Her stomach pitched in horror as she realized not only was she falling, she was bringing Dylan down with her.
"Wow, Hank is pouring strong tonight." Blaming her half consumed vodka tonic was so much better than admitting she'd literally tripped over her own feet. She forced a laugh as Dylan helped her up and asked her if she was okay.
Wishing the floor would open up under her and swallow her whole, she assured Dylan she was fine and followed him back to their table.
Knowing with one hundred percent certainty that whatever shot she deluded herself into thinking she’d had just been blown.
Awkward high school dork: 1. Sexy new confident Sadie: 0.
Chapter 2
As Dylan turned down the familiar drive he felt some of the lingering tension of last night's nightmare start to fade along with the heart-pounding, panicky feeling that had started accompanying the nightmares recently. In the ten years since he'd been here, the Thornton horse ranch hadn't changed much, if at all, and something about that soothed the restlessness that hadn't eased a bit his first week home.
The big main house still stood at the end of the circular drive, the out buildings where the foreman and the ranch hands lived branching off to the side, towards the creek.
The green grass of the sprawling hay meadows extending out to the mountains jutting up from the land, were like a calming hand on his shoulder. The familiarity made it easier for him to thrust away the last of the haunting images. Easier for him to focus on the here, the now, not think about what his team was doing on the other side of the world.
Made it easier to appreciate the peace, the quiet, the nights not marred by the sounds of gunfire, the days not spent looking over the next ridge for the glint of a gun barrel.
And right now he appreciated the fact that while he had changed so much in the ten years since he left his small town home, the Thornton Ranch was exactly the same as it had been when he'd driven up this same drive countless times his senior year in high school so Sadie Thornton could help him with his trigonometry homework.
Back then, he'd been itching like hell to get out of Big Timber, Montana, away from the small town, out from under the long shadows cast by his older brothers. Eager to start his career in the military, sure of his path, ready to show the world what a badass he was.
Now he shook his head at that naive kid, setting out for basic training, his head full of heroic visions for himself. With no clue of the reality, no clue of how he'd be tested, pushed to the breaking point in every way possible.
His boots crunched against the gravel and he heard the faint strains of Pink's latest hit coming from the barn door. Back in the day the radio knob was broken off on the a.m. country station. A grin pulled at his lips. Sadie was back, and she was making her presence known.
He walked through the big double doors, squinting as his eyes adjusted from the bright July sun to the dimmer interior. He spotted Sadie and Pete Jenkins, the ranch foreman, over by one of the stalls. Their conversation was inaudible over the music, but from the set of Sadie's narrow shoulders he could tell it was tense.
He still couldn't get over the change in her. In the week or so since he'd seen last seen her at his brother's party, he'd tried to convince himself that he'd been imagining things. That the reason he'd reacted so strongly to her that first night at the Last Chance, and later that week at his brother, Deck's, party, was the sheer contrast between the too tall, too skinny, awkward girl who'd earned the nickname "Sadie Storkton" to a woman who was certifiably hot.
But nope, there she was, her delicately carved nose and cheekbones shown in profile, her now curvy ass filling out the top of her low slung jeans and her new (to him) breasts mounding against the thin cotton of her t-shirt.
Not lush, by any means, but a nice little handful that would fit perfectly in his big, broad palm—
"Dylan!"
His eyes snapped up at the sound of her voice, and he hoped to God the dim light hid the fact that he'd been staring at her boobs. And please Jesus let it hide the effect those boobs were having on his own body.
"Hey, Sadie," he said. Shit, had his voice just cracked? He hoped to hell not, but it was hard to get anything out, what with the way he felt like he'd taken a sucker punch to the chest the instant he laid eyes on her face.
Her eyebrows knit above her big dark eyes and her mouth was pursed in what looked like irritation.
"What are you doing here?" she asked as she approached.
Dylan forced his eyes away from the tempting sway of her hips. "Dad said your tractor seized up. He's slammed this morning so I told him I'd take care of it." He held up his toolbox for emphasis. Though he didn't share his father's passion for automobile repair and restoration, he was a capable mechanic and helping his father at the shop gave him something to fill his time between working out to prepare him for the intense physical training he'd face when he went back to Fort Bragg..
"Oh, I was expecting Frank."
"I'm more than capable of fixing it," he said.
"Of course you are, you've always been great with your hands." She gave her head a little shake and laughed.
Come a little closer and I'll show you just how good, said a voice that came straight from the little head. Knock it off, he told his inner horndog. This is Sadie. Sweet, smart, Sadie, who doesn't deserve our bullshit no matter how hot she's become.
"Sorry," she continued. "You just caught me off guard. Things have been a pretty..." She raised her hands and screwed her face in an expression to convey chaos.
"How's your dad? When ran into him at Adele's last week it looked like he was getting around pretty well."
"Don't tell him that," she said wryly. "His cardiologist says that his blood pressure is still elevated and he still needs to take it easy. You can imagine how well he took that."
Right. Jim Thornton was what the old timers called a tough cuss, about as tender as a piece of rawhide. A gritty cowboy who wouldn't let something like a heart attack keep him from running his outfit. Dylan would have wondered how he'd managed to spawn a daughter as sweet and funny as Sadie had he not known Sadie's mom, Angela. "I imagine he's happy to have you around though."
Sadie's smile stiffened around the corners. "I'd like to think so."
Dylan's heart pinched a little, but before he could hone in closer, Pete's rough voice interrupted. "Hay's not going to mow itself. You gonna git to that tractor you or two gonna stand around jawing the morning away?"
Sadie rolled her eyes and motioned Dylan out the main door and around the back where the hulking piece of machinery was parked while Pete stomped off toward the outbuildings, his bowlegged gait attesting to decades spent on horseback.
"I see his mood hasn't improved over the years."
"If he was a woman I'd think he had a constant case of PMS," she said with a wry smile that made his own lips tingle with the urge to kiss it off her face.
"So what's going on here?" he said as he rapped his fist on the tractor's hood, forcing himself back on task.
"No idea," she shrugged. "All I know is it makes this horrible sound every time you start it."
Dylan nodded and climbed into the cab. He turned the key and pressed the clutch so he could hear it for himself. The engine rumble to life, followed almost immediately by a high pitched squealing noise that made his teeth ache in his jaw. He quickly killed the engine and hopped down. "Sounds like the alternator." He popped the hood and peered inside.
He nodded. "Shouldn't be too bad. Even if I have to run into town for a part, I should still have it running by later this afternoon."
"Oh thank God," Sadie said, her relief almost palpable. "We can't afford to delay mowing the south meadow, not if we want to make the shipment by the end of the month. Especially after the first cut was so disappointing."
"Listen to you, miss rancher. And here I thought you'd turned full on computer nerd."
"A girl can leave the ranch, but the ranch never leaves her. Even if I have spent most of the last five years buried in code," she said with a grin.
The grin quickly faded to a look of vague disgust as she looked at a point over his shoulder. "Nice of him to finally show up," she muttered.
Dylan turned too, tracking her gaze. He saw a lean, slightly stoop shouldered form ambling bow leggedly toward them. Dressed in a long sleeved, snap front shirt, wrangler jeans, boots and beat up straw hat, he had the unmistakable look of a career ranch hand.
As he got closer, Dylan understood the derisive curl in Sadie's lips, the flare to her fine nostrils as though she'd smelled something bad. The hand's eyes were bloodshot, his shirt rumpled as though he'd slept in it and sporting a big grease stain to boot.
"Good morning, Miss Sadie," he said in a tone that stripped any note of respect from the address, his grin showing teeth stained by coffee and tobacco.
"Morning Andy," she replied in a tone that betrayed none of her disdain. "This is Dylan. He's going to fix the tractor."
Dylan reached out his hand, noticing the tremble in Andy's as he shook it.
You sure you want this guy operating heavy machinery? he thought as he shot Sadie a pointed look.
She shrugged as if to say, we have to make do.
"Why the hell did Pete roust me when it ain't even fixed yet?" Andy snarled and let fly with a long stream of tobacco laced spit that just missed the toes of Sadie's boots.