Unforgettable (The Dalton Gang #3) Read Free

beneath Everly’s drink. “Well, for Dax. Casper’s all Faith’s. I love him as a friend, but he’s way too much for me to handle.”
    Everly looked down, toyed with the stem of her glass. She’d never had what her friends had. In fact, she’d had such an opposite experience with her one and only serious relationship that she’d sworn off men for years, wondering if she’d ever want to risk her heart again. Or risk her emotions, her body, her mind.
    “Ev? You okay?”
    “I’m fine,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’m just so happy for you and Faith. And I feel like a fifth wheel these days at lunch. I may have to start eating at the store with Kendall,” she said, laughing at the look on Arwen’s face.
    “I wish Kendall could afford to take an hour once a week and come eat with us.” Then she lifted a scolding finger. “And if you even think about not showing up tomorrow, I’m going to come to the paper and hunt you down.”
    “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be here,” she said, loving that her move to Crow Hill had brought her such very good friends—a bit of a surprise in such a small town, one populated primarily with crusty retirees and equally crusty landowners running ever-dwindling herds of cattle. She followed the other woman’s gaze, Arwen turning to take in Boone Mitchell as he approached.
    “Arwen. Everly.” He nodded to both of them, neither their masks nor his fooling anyone. In fact, Everly hadn’t seen a mask tonight that did. A good lead-in to her story perhaps . . .
Even their masks couldn’t hide the identities of the generous library patrons determined to make up for the county’s recent funding cuts brought on by the region’s economic blight.
    “Hey, Boone,” Arwen said, one eyebrow arched. “You ride in tonight on a horse?”
    “Almost,” he said, reaching for the designer beer she handed him. “Blame Faith. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I don’t fit in Casper’s clothes.”
    “Uh, I’m not even going to ask,” Arwen said, laughing and tearing off his drink ticket when he offered her the long strip. She nodded toward his bounty. “Thanks for the donation.”
    “This is Faith, too. I can’t afford a pot to piss in,” he said, then looked from one woman to the other. “Sorry about that. I’m not used to having to watch what comes out of my mouth since I’m usually talking to cows.”
    Arwen reached out to pat his free hand where it rested on the bar. “You’re in character. Don’t apologize.”
    He pulled his hand from beneath hers and jerked off his hat, tugging off his black silk mask, then settling his hat back in place. “Criminy but that thing was making it impossible to breathe.”
    And now Everly was the one who couldn’t catch her breath. She’d known Faith in college, but had never met the other woman’s brother until he’d returned to Crow Hill several months ago. She had seen him in passing, at a distance, in a group where she was usually engaged in conversation while he hugged the edge of the room and scowled.
    Up close, he was intimidating. His size, his bearing, his swagger and attitude, and all the things that made him male. She watched his throat work as he swallowed, the sheen of dried sweat there, the beard stubble dark on his chin and jaw, watched him backhand his wrist across his mouth when done, his gaze catching hers and burning.
    She smiled, feeling awkward, and reached for her drink, holding the glass in one hand, fingering her straw with the other. He made her nervous, but it was a nervousness drawn from deep in her belly, a nervousness not of fear or of dread but of unexpected desire.
    It had been so long since she’d felt that sort of primal pull that she closed her eyes and let it consume her, giving in and imagining Boone’s powerful body bare between her legs. Which probably wasn’t the smartest thing to be thinking, because she could feel his heat radiating at her side, and smell the earthy musk of his skin,