Unforgettable (The Dalton Gang #3) Read Free Page B

it keeps me busy. Keeps me entertained. Lots of human interest news ’round these here parts.”
    Her exaggerated drawl had him chuckling. “What did you do before?”
    “I worked at KXAN in Austin.”
    “Yeah? That’s pretty big stuff.”
    “Maybe. But I like it here, not being recognized everywhere I go. Not being recognized for being on TV, I mean,” she amended. “Because everyone knows everyone else ’round these here parts.”
    He was having trouble getting a read on her. She liked it here, so was she laughing at herself? He didn’t think she was making fun of small-town life. Not smart to be shitting where one ate. “You’re right. Everyone does. Made it kinda dicey when the boys and I came back. Never knew who we’d run into that might still be holding a grudge.”
    “Did you get a lot of that?
    “Less than I thought,” he said, though he couldn’t speak for Casper or Dax with much authority. He was still waiting for the Big One to land in his lap with the stink of a fresh cow pie. And if he were a bettin’ man, he’d lay odds the shit would arrive courtesy of Les Upton. “Guess time does heal all wounds.”
    She dropped her gaze from his, looked out at the crowd without seeming to really see anyone. And then she finally said, “Some wounds,” leaving Boone to figure he’d scratched open a raw spot.
    He slid his low-riding hand up to the small of her back, not wanting to take advantage. “Sorry ’bout that. Didn’t mean to cause you any upset there.”
    “You didn’t,” she said, wetting her lips as she returned her attention to him. “We all have them, I guess.”
    “Wounds? Yeah, I imagine so.”
    “And you didn’t have to move your hand.”
    “Okay,” he said, and put it back, squeezing just a little and feeling a jolt in his balls when she smiled.
    They finished out the dance without saying anything more. Boone caught his sister’s gaze a couple of times, but ignored the look she was giving him. He couldn’t decipher it anyway. He’d had one too many beers for doing any deciphering. Besides, his dancing with one of her friends was his business—and Everly’s—not Faith’s. And besides again, she’d been the one to make the suggestion back at the house.
    Still, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking his sister had something on her mind, and that something was related to Everly, and it was something he needed to know, most likely dealing with her wounds. ’Course, it could just be that Faith didn’t like seeing his hand on Everly’s ass, but that sure as hell wasn’t her place to decide.
    All too soon the song ended, couples separating, clapping, some making their way back to their tables or to the bar, others staying where they were and waiting for the band to strike up again. Everly stepped out of his arms, kinda reluctantly, he thought, as if maybe she wasn’t sure he wanted her there. Except he couldn’t really imagine her thinking that. Not with the way her nipples had gone hard when she’d told him she didn’t mind his fondling.
    “Thanks for the dance,” he said, wanting to stick around for another, but needing a break before he reached for the hem of her skirt and ripped the fabric to her waist. That was the beer talking. The beer and having her close.
    But it was a thought he couldn’t deny having. And it didn’t stop there. He kept on thinking of where things might go once the dress was out of the way and he could get to her skin. He had a feeling he would love the taste of her skin.
    She reached up then, brushed back some of her long blond hair escaping from the bun thing she’d wound it into on the back of her head. “Thank you for taking pity on me.”
    He frowned. She had to be kidding. “What makes you say that?”
    “You’re the first man to ask me without a wife or a girlfriend suggesting it.”
    “I think you’ve got that wrong.” In fact, he knew she did. She might’ve danced with some married guys, and a few who were attached, but