Surviving Love (Montana Wilds Book 1) (9 page)

“I want you to need me. That’s my job, remember? Your protector. Sweetie, I know you’re hurting. Hell, I can
see
that you’re hurting. And I get it—trust me, I’ve been there a time or two. You think your heart is being ripped out of your chest, it hurts so much. You’d rather someone just stab you and be done with it. And then there are the low, depressing nights when you lie in bed and stare at the ceiling,
certain
you’ll never get over it. You are miserable when your friends drag you out, but you’re miserable at home, on your own. You are your own worst enemy, and feel like no one will ever love you again. Am I right?”

Agony welled up in Sara’s chest as a tear overflowed. “Yes,” she whispered.

“You think your life is over—that you’ll never recover. But you do. Time passes, and you remember to live again. You remember to take pleasure in the little things. You stop taking all the great things in your life for granted, and you move on. This is your first heartbreak, so it really sucks. But please, baby, please believe me when I say he is not the last man you will love. And he is nowhere
near
the last man who will love you. Take this for what it was—a life lesson. Learn from your mistake, and let your heart heal. Let someone else love you.”

Sara took a ragged breath. It sounded so easy, but letting someone else love her meant putting herself out there again. And if it didn’t go right, all her fears would be confirmed. She didn’t want to face any more pain.

She didn’t want to feel at all.

She straightened herself up a little, still wrapped in his arms. She let her face hover alongside his. “This sucks, Mikey. I’m not really in a great place in life right now. I’m the dead body that turns up at a garden party.”

“The dead body… Honey, I don’t think this will come as a shock, but you need to work on your analogies.”

She snorted out a laugh and rested her cheek on his. His arms tightened, drawing her in tight, her front firmly against his chest and groin. His fingers splayed on her back, so hot. His face turned just a fraction, some of his breath mingling with hers.

“Will you be okay?” he whispered. She could feel his lips brush the edges of hers.

Heat filled her. Suddenly she could feel every inch of him—his strong thighs pressed against the outside of her legs. His rock-hard chest, glorious and defined. His large arms, holding her tight, promising safety and security. Her groin throbbed, begging to be entered. Her body pulsed, wanting to be touched. To be loved and desired.

In a flash of panic, she realized her body was reacting to a man, not to her oldest and dearest friend.

Her breath caught as she backed up quickly, peeling herself from his hard body so she could stand on her own. His hands slid to her hips, steadying her for a moment, but after glancing at her face, he let his arms fall to the side.

“I’m okay,” she said in confusion, struggling out from between his legs. “Sorry—my head is
not
on straight.” She chuckled to ease the awkward situation.

How about that cab?

“I’m just… going through a midlife crisis or something. Before midlife. I need to figure out what I’m doing—”

“Hey,” Mikey said, straightening up next to her. He didn’t pull her in this time. “You’re just in a rut. But don’t worry, I have plenty of shovels—I’ll help you dig out.”

She allowed herself a smile. “Life sucks.”

“Yup. But the suckery is usually better when shared with friends.”

“You read that on a T-shirt?”

“No, but I’ll put it on one if you like. Million-dollar idea.”

“Oh, goodie. Yes please.”

She took a deep breath before giving Mikey a light, friendly punch on the arm. “Thanks,” she said. “For being an awesome friend. And for scaring Duke away. He’s been…” She shook her head.

“Pestering you, I know. Jake mentioned it. Stay away from him. He’s bad news.”

“Christie already warned me. But thanks. Again. Times two. Etcetera.”

“Sometimes I think you just talk to get all the words out of your head.” He took a step toward the table, waiting for her to step with him.

She complied, trying to shake off the pallor Duke had thrown on her. “Yes. I need to make room for more awesomeness.”

“Oh, you have plenty of room.” Mikey led her back to the table. “It’s the awesomeness you need to come up with.”

“Jerk.” She bumped him.

“Christie would prefer you used
jackass.”

Sara laughed. “Jackass.”

“There you go.”

Shaking her head, she said, “The bartender says ‘screw you’ for the water, by the way.”

Mike laughed. “He’s extremely sociable. Loves when people friend him on Facebook.”

“I bet.”

T
hree hours
and a hazy number of beers later, Sara was wobbling freely. She wasn’t kidding when she said she hadn’t been out drinking in years. Literally. Years. Her body wasn’t used to it. Not even remotely. A glass or two of wine with dinner couldn’t even compare to a hastily eaten dinner and a tanker’s worth of hard alcohol washed down with beer.

What was worse? Mikey was barely drinking. He was under the alcohol limit for driving, while she was flying the white flag in the face of sobriety. He’d probably use all of this for blackmail.

“Okay, all I’m saying is, if I can go ‘over the top,’ I can totally win.” Sara clunked her elbow on the table, hand up and open, ready to arm-wrestle. “C’mon, Greg, show me what you’re workin’ with.”

Greg gave Mikey a wide-eyed glance with the corners of his mouth turned downward. Apparently having asked some sort of silent question, and then getting an equally silent answer, Greg smiled and said, “Green light. Sara, I am going to rock your world!”

“Oh no.” Christie jumped up, hands out wrestler style, staring at Greg’s wobbling fist. Only Mikey had stayed sober. “I am ref-reeing. On it. Oh-fich-i-ale.”

Greg rolled his eyes at Christie and said to Sara, “She’s hot, but she’s a douche.”

“Oh my God.” Christie put one hand to her chest, the other on top of the arm wrestle waiting to happen. She blinked her eyes like a Hollywood starlet. “I-am-touched, Gregory. Touched. Also, fuck you.”

Greg nodded like he expected it. “All right, c’mon, Reno. Let’s do this. Mike, if you punch me when I win, I will cry like a bitch.”

“What?” Sara and Christie cried together.

“Amendment,” Greg said, and paused to burp under his breath. “I will cry like a little boy.”

“Better.” Christie nodded exaggeratedly, swaying over the hands.

It was time to go home.

“Okay.” Christie raised one hand over her head. “Ready… Set…” She paused, staring off to the left.

“What’s she looking at—” Greg’s loud whisper was cut off with, “Go!”

Sara leaned with all her might, her arm shaking under the strain. Greg grinned.

Sara’s scowl increased.

Greg’s grin widened.

“Girl power!” Sara brought hand number two up, grasping his fist. Greg’s brow creased, and his eyes squinted, but his hand barely moved.

“C’mon, you horse’s ass. Give over,” Sara roared, standing up now and putting her weight against Greg’s arm. “Christ, what the hell are you made of, the moon?”

“You need to eat some.” Greg laughed.

Suddenly, his arm started to push toward her. Muscle pulsing, Greg was moving Sara’s whole body.

“No!”

“Give over,” Greg mimicked, winking at Mikey.

“Over the top,” Sam yelled, eyes half closed and slouching in his chair. It didn’t seem like he was any better at holding his alcohol than Sara. Why he’d kept taking shots with Christie, when Sara had not, was anyone’s guess.

“Glad I made you watch that movie?” Mikey asked Sara with a smile, sitting back in his chair and watching Sara struggle.

Yes. She was.

Greg paused in his domination so Sara could make a show of moving her fingers from the side of Greg’s fist, to the top. Directly on top. Movie lore said she should now win.

“Go!” Christie yelled.

Sara strained with one hand.

Greg didn’t even budge, which she expected.

“This seems… harder,” Sara said, her voice tight. Her other hand came to the rescue again, immediately followed by her body weight.

Grinning harder, Greg applied strength again.

“Dang it!” Sara grunted, being pushed back. “How is he so freaking strong?”

“On it!” Christie pushed against Sara, using her body weight to help capture the win. She fell on top of the competition, Greg having no choice but to let his hand fall with the onslaught.

“Now, how is that fair?” Greg asked as his hand hit the table, still pinned beneath Christie as Sara fell away.

“Girls rule, that’s how,” Christie retorted, climbing off and slapping Greg’s back. “Ha!” She did a fist pump. “Okay. Bathroom. Sara, let’s go.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You know, I could be a lot drunker, I think,” Sara said as they walked down the hall.

“It’s because I’ve made you drink one water for every beer. Almost. That’ll help—I’m not kidding.”

“Except I have to pee every five minutes.”

“Better than throwing up every five minutes, which is probably what lies in Sam’s future.”

“True words.”

After they’d used the bathroom, they met up at the mirror. Sara scrubbed the makeup out from under her eyes as Christie brought out lipstick.

“Greg’s kinda hot, huh?” Christie said nonchalantly.

Sara couldn’t help a sly smile. “He is definitely pretty hot, yes.”

“With a nice body.”

“A very nice body.”

Christie rubbed her lips together. With her middle finger, she wiped off a smudge of dusty pink before scanning her face. “And he’s got a good job. I think he gets paid well.”

“He seems nice. He seems like a good guy. Trust me, that’s worth its weight in gold. You need someone sweet that’s going to take care of you.”

“I don’t need someone to take care of me. I make my own money.”

Sara stepped toward the door, waiting. “I’m not talking about paying your bills. I’m talking about respecting you. Taking care of your heart. You need a man to put you first. Someone that’s going to guard you from the beasts of life.”

Christie snorted. “I think I’ll just settle for hot with a great body. If I wait for the guy you described, I’ll probably end up alone with twelve cats.”

“That guy exists. And while I don’t have proof, I do have a great collection of cartoons that are adamant about it.”

Christie laughed and grabbed a paper towel. “I gave my Disney collection away right after I decided I didn’t need to be saved.”

Sara pushed her and smiled. “Shut up, you still have it.”

Christie gave Sara a guilty smile. “Okay, yes, but that’s just because I secretly want to rock Prince Eric’s world.”

A
few hours
and a lot of laughs later, things were starting to wrap up.

“You girls ready to go?” Greg asked, returning from settling his bill with the bar.

Sara finished her glass of water alongside Christie. Sam stood against the table, swaying dangerously. He hadn’t slowed his drinking, and his balance showed it.

“Sara, ready?” Sam reached out a heavy hand. Finding what he was looking for, he clumsily rubbed Sara’s back.

“Yeah, uh…” She took a step away. “I think I’ll just use the bathroom real quick. Christie, you have to go?”

“No, I’m good. I’m going to help Greg get Sam to the van.”

Sara nodded and started off, slapping Mikey on the arm as she passed. “At ease, disease!”

A smile lit up his face as he said, “I’ll wait for you.”

“Kewl.”

“Only dorks say cool like that,” Christie hollered, hooking a shoulder under Sam’s arm.

Sara shook her head and smiled as she made her way into the bathroom. She finished up as quickly as possible, only doing a quick glance to make sure she didn’t have makeup all over her face, before rushing out to catch up with the others. Two steps out of the door, she ran into someone heading to the guys’ bathroom.

“Sorry,” she muttered as she stepped to the side to let him pass. The large body stepped with her.

In confusion, she glanced up. A shock of surprise coursed through her. Duke’s handsome face smirked down at her.

“Hi,” he said, stepping closer.

“Oh, uh…” She stepped away, trying to edge around. “Hey. Jake’s here to take us back. So I gotta go.”

“Oh yeah?” He jostled in front of her, his body brushing hers. One of his hands reached for her, pinching skin as she wriggled away. His voice lowered intimately, but Sara could hear the edge to it, clearly frustrated that she kept trying to get around him. “I thought we were into each other at the beginning of the season. What changed? Not rumors, I hope…”

She smiled nervously. “Oh, no. No. I was just busy, is all. No biggie.”

“That’s what I thought.” His eyes glittered with lust as he stepped toward her, backing her toward the end of the hall.

“I have to—”

“Whoa, wait a minute, where ya goin’?” Duke cut her off again, this time spreading out his hands to block the whole hallway. He stepped forward, making her, once again, retreat. She was running out of hallway. “I just want to talk.”

“I have to go. They’re probably waiting.”

“Now, don’t be shy. And don’t worry about Mike Frost. Me and him have history. I wasn’t talking about you earlier. That’s just something—wait a minute.”

Cold prickles of uncertainty started in her stomach as Duke pushed in close. Her back bumped against the wall. Shadows fell across her face. She couldn’t see beyond Duke’s large body, poised to trap her.

“They’ll wait.” Duke reached out for her midsection. Sara gulped a breath, ready to scream. “I just wanted to say—”

His body jerked backward before being thrown to the side. Limbs slapped the wood. A dull
thunk
accented his head bouncing off the wall.

Mikey stepped toward Sara, positioning himself between her and Duke.

“What the fuck, man?” Duke bounded from the wall, wiping spit from the corner of his mouth. His heated gaze fell across Mikey.

“I told you to stay away from her. She doesn’t want any,” Mikey said in a low tone.

Faster than lightning, Duke’s fist struck out.

Mikey arched his back and Duke’s fist sailed past Mikey’s face with only inches to spare. Before Duke had regained his balance, two fast punches rocketed out from Mikey, landing on Duke’s body, hard. Mikey stepped forward in a rush, practiced and lethal, no stranger to this style of fighting. Another fist hit home, doubling the other man over. He grabbed Duke’s body and pinned him against the wall.

“You ever touch or speak to her again, and I’ll take you for a walk you won’t return from. She’s off limits. Got it?” Mikey shook the other man.

A nod had Mikey giving one final shove, before stepping back. Eyes on fire, he waved Sara on. As soon as she hurried past, he followed, gaze staying on Duke until they were around the corner.

“You okay?” Mikey asked quietly as they headed toward the front of the bar.

“Yeah. He didn’t do anything.”

Mikey nodded, those wrath-filled eyes sweeping the bar, like a predator sussing out his territory. As they neared the front of the bar, Mikey took two fast steps to get in front of Sara. He pushed open the door, waiting until she went through before following her out.

As they stepped outside, the chill of the evening having her pulling her wrap around her shoulders tightly, she halted. “Where’s the van?”

Mikey scanned the street quickly. He dug in his pocket, brought his phone up, and glanced at its face. “It appears Jake’s leaving me to get you home.”

“Oh. Do you have a car?” she asked, looking around the deserted street. Reno was no longer a really busy place, but she’d never stood in the center of any town and seen… stillness.

Dark windows peppered empty establishments along the deserted road. One streetlight, twenty feet away, showered the sidewalk in a faint glow. Three cars were parked further down the street, but there were none in front of the bar.

Mike turned to her, his body relaxing slightly. That didn’t stop him from glancing at the door to the bar, though. His mouth tweaked up in a smile. “Of sorts.”

He led her around the corner, where a shiny black motorcycle with orange fire curling down the sides gleamed at them.

“Of sorts?” Sara asked tentatively.

“Jake probably thought I’d brought the truck. But you’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle, right? Or did you fulfill that dream?”

“I hate that you remember dreams from a time when I wasn’t worried about dying in a freak accident. Or freezing to death.”

He took off his jacket and handed it to her.

“Won’t you be cold?” she asked, clutching the well-worked leather.

He shrugged, taking a helmet off the back. “I’ve been in some pretty extreme conditions. A chill for a half-hour won’t kill me. Here.”

She eyed the motorcycle dubiously. “These are dangerous, though, right?”

“So am I.” He winked at her.

As the image of him ruthlessly shoving Duke against the wall tumbled through her head, he gently fastened the helmet on to her. Tingles crept up her body as she remembered the possessive way he had steered her outside. She scanned his face, trying to reconcile this new facet to her old friend. “It’s like you’re two different guys. Kid Mikey that I remember, and grown-up Mike that… changed.”

He stepped away, his gaze finding hers. One more moment had his brow crinkling; he was clearly reading her. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Sara. I don’t usually fight—not since the military—but I won’t stand by if you’re in trouble. He’s bad news. I wanted him to know I’ve got your back in a way he would understand.”

“No, I know,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s like you’re a stranger half the time. Some of the things you said tonight, and how you hold yourself… You’re a man. Like, a confident, handsome man. I only knew the boy. It’s weird.”

He smirked and turned back to the bike. “
Like
a handsome man, huh? Nice.”

“Half man, half douche.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“And there’s the Mikey side. Terrible comebacks.”

His rich laughter echoed down the street. “All right, put the jacket on and let’s get cracking.” Mikey stood by the bike and waited to help her on.

“Where do you live?”

“I have a house about fifteen minutes from here.” He pointed in the opposite direction of the ranch. “Sometimes I crash at the ranch, though, if I have to get out early.”

“Let’s go see.” Sara glanced down at her bare legs. “So this is just dawning on me now, but I’m in a dress.”

When he didn’t answer, she glanced back up. And caught his dark stare. “What?”

“Why do you want to go to my house?”

“Whaaa… um. Because I want to see where you live? Because I’m trying to get to know you again? Because I want to sell the information to Christie or some other girl who wants your bod to make a buck or two? What’s with the dumb questions?”

His beautiful eyes stayed locked on hers. He slowly extended his hand to help her onto the bike.

“Is that okay? You suddenly got really weird. Are you planning a booty call with someone or something? I don’t want to cramp your style…”

“No.” He directed her leg as she swung it over the bike. “No booty calls. Was just surprised. It’s late.”

She wiggled on the cold leather seat. All she had was thin cotton between her and a cold bike. The effect sent shivers through her body, having her teeth chattering almost immediately. She dropped her hands to her crotch so he couldn’t see her knickers. “I have tomorrow off. I can sleep all day while you go about your business half awake.”

In a strange, somber mood, he climbed on the bike. She was about to ask him if it was okay again, but he lifted the bike, having her clutching him wildly. “God, I hope you have great balance. Please don’t let me fall off…”

T
he motorcycle ride was exhilarating
! She clutched his hard frame with every ounce of strength she had. The wind assaulted her face and the horizon jiggled in her vision. For a woman who liked to hold on to her control with two hands, this time she had none. None. If Mikey chose to, he could’ve leaned way over and had them skidding across the ground. But for all that, she couldn’t help the gleeful smile at the speed. At the recklessness. At the thrill!

When they finally slowed to a stop in front of a dark, looming house, her teeth were chattering wildly and she had goose bumps all over her body. Mikey didn’t seem any better, his muscles shivering under her hands.

“It isn’t much,” he said as he shut off the bike. “I started renting it when I first got out here. After I decided I liked the job”—he lifted her off the bike—“I asked my landlord if he’d consider selling. I’ve meant to fix it up—add onto it and do up the outside—but I’ve just never gotten around to it. It’s only me, so it’s plenty of space.”

“You have a house. I have a suitcase. If you think I plan to judge, you don’t know me very well.”

“I know you plenty,” he said quietly, leading her by the hand to a stone path between waist-high bushes. He helped her up the steps, making sure she was stable before angling his body so the moonlight could splash the lock on the front door.

“Although a sensor light wouldn’t go amiss,” she said.

“Had one. Bulb went out, I think. Or maybe I accidently turned the light switch off. I never bothered to investigate.”

“Lazy,” she mumbled.

“I thought you didn’t plan to judge,” he said into the darkness, his voice colored with humor.

She grinned as she turned her gaze toward the shimmering heavens. “I am constantly blown away by the beauty of this place. You’d think I’d get used to it, but… then I see this.
This.
Just look at it.”

The lock clicked over, turning her attention back to him. He stood with his hands in his pockets, ignoring the cold, watching her.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head a fraction before turning back and stepping inside. An interior light bathed the entryway, spilling over his large body. Shadows obscured his eyes as he faced her, waiting for her to cross the threshold.

She got a strange fluttering in her stomach as that steady gaze tracked her. She had no idea what he was thinking, and strangely, she didn’t want to. His confident bearing, and his patient, but dominant, stance disconcerted her. He had her heart thumping and her stomach twisting, making her uncomfortable, but she was not sure why.

“So, anyway,” she said in a weak voice, crossing into the house.

A pleasant smell greeted her, like fresh, clean cotton. The house had an open floor plan, the entryway leading directly into the living room with stairs across the way. To the right the living room was equipped with a couch, loveseat, and recliner, all spread out and facing a large TV on the wall. Toward the back of the rectangular house was a dining area with a moderate-sized table surrounded by six chairs.

“It’s not much, but it does me,” Mike said, still watching her.

“It’s clean. And homey. I love the earth colors. Who decorated?”

“I did.” He shrugged, stepping in further. “Figured there’s no point in living like a squatter. When I bought it, I put some time into making it look nice.”

She flashed him a devilish grin as she crossed to the dining room, seeking out the kitchen. “Trying to impress the girls, huh? You dog.”

“
A
girl.”

“Oh, really?” As she suspected, the kitchen lay just off the dining area, a moderate affair with updated appliances. “You didn’t tell me you had a chick on the line. And by the way, this place is pretty big. Way bigger than the crap-hole I was living in.”

What a waste half her life had been. Holding out for something better, only to realize that she had everything she was going to get. Trying to build a future that her fiancé hadn’t wanted. How had she been so blind?

Mikey stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. “What happened?”

She shrugged into his body, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Everything I had was a lie. I’ve lived a lie for years. It’s a hard pill to swallow.”

Mikey squeezed her tight. “Mae West once said, ‘All discarded lovers should be given a second chance, but with somebody else.’ Phil is giving you that chance.”

“Let’s do a shot,” she squeaked. She was so tired of thinking about her past. Just for once, she wanted to get a little reckless. “Do you have anything to shoot?”

He backed up enough to see her face, those goldy-brown eyes digging into her, reaching past all her barriers and touching her soul. His gaze was so soft, making her heart squish in her chest. And then his look intensified, something within it, some powerful emotion, infusing his gaze. Her body started to tingle in response. He was so familiar, but yet so exotic somehow.

She got lost in his beautiful eyes. Her body recognized the strength and power circling her, holding her close. Protecting her.