Page 4

Chapter Four

brUNO

Two hours later, I'm sitting in my truck outside Della's Diner, gripping the steering wheel like it's the only thing keeping me sane. My cock's been half-hard since I left the fairground, the memory of Everly's defiant little chin and those curves in that frilly apron driving me to distraction.

Fuck, the way she stood up to me. Most women would've melted at my public declaration or run screaming. Not my sweet girl. She marched right up and gave me hell, those blue eyes spitting fire while her tits bounced with every angry gesture.

I adjust myself again and check the time. She said seven. It's 6:58.

I catch sight of her in my mirror as she drives up, parks and gets out, scanning the parking lot.

My breath catches in my throat. She's changed from her work clothes into a sundress that fits her like she’s been poured into it, the fabric a soft sunshine yellow that makes her skin glow.

Her golden hair has a rosy glow in the evening light.

I'm out of the cab before conscious thought kicks in.

“You look prettier than a peach, darlin’. You came.”

“I said I would.” She tilts her head up to look at me, and the scent of her shampoo makes my mouth water. “I love this diner. Della makes the best strawberry pie.”

Inside, Della spots us and her weathered face breaks into a grin. “Everly!” She bustles over to give Everly a quick hug before turning sharp eyes on me. “And Bruno Castelli. Haven't seen you in town for months.”

“Been keeping to myself, Della.”

Her gaze bounces between us, missing nothing. “You two know each other?”

“We're getting acquainted,” I say, something possessive threading my voice that makes Everly's eyes widen.

Della's mischievous smile could light up the diner. She can read people like tea leaves. “Well, ain't that interesting. Corner booth, kids?”

She seats us in the back. We both order and Della disappears toward the kitchen. Everly leans back against the red vinyl and studies me with those bright blue eyes.

“Tell me about the mountain man hermit thing. Is it as romantic as it sounds, or do you just really hate people?”

Her question's teasing, but there's genuine curiosity underneath. I find myself wanting to give her real answers instead of the deflections I usually offer.

I wrap my hands around my coffee mug. “Bought the cabin about ten years ago, after my parents died in a car accident.”

Her expression softens immediately. "I'm sorry. That must've been devastating."

The old pain doesn't sting like it used to, but it's still there. “Yes, it was. Drunk driver hit them head-on coming back from Houston. I needed to get away from everything that reminded me of them. The ranch they built, the town where everyone knew our family. It was too much.”

“And the mountains gave you peace.”

“They did. But…” I meet her eyes. “Lately they don’t feel the same.”

“What changed?”

You , I want to say. Everything changed the moment I saw you walking down Main Street seven months ago. But it's too much, too soon.

“I guess I'm ready to start living again instead of hiding away.”

Della brings our food, and we eat while I tell Everly about the cabin, about Ranger, about the simple life I've built in the mountains. The diner empties as we talk until we’re the only two people left.

She tells me about college, about her teaching dreams, about her brother Wilder.

She makes a passing reference about needing something to distract her from a tough summer.

“Tough? Want to talk about it?”

Everly's face clouds. She stabs at her fries with more force than necessary. “My ex-fiancé decided to break up with me in as messy a way as he could. Got nasty. Told me I had 'problem areas' I should work on if I wanted to keep a man interested.”

Rage burns hot in my chest, swift and vicious. “What was his name?”

“Why?”

“So I know what to call him when I punch him in the face.”

Her startled laugh eases some of the tension from her shoulders. “Bruno. He's definitely not worth the assault charges.”

“Any man who'd say something like that to you is a goddamn fool.” I reach across the table and cover her hand with mine.

Her skin is soft, warm, and she doesn't pull away.

“You're perfect exactly as you are, Everly. Every gorgeous curve, every sweet smile, every word that comes out of that pretty mouth.”

She stares at our joined hands. “You don't really know me.”

“I know enough.” My thumb traces patterns on her palm, and I watch goosebumps rise on her arm.

“I know you're kind to everyone you meet.

I know you give free cotton candy to kids whose parents can't afford it. I know you light up when you talk about teaching because you genuinely want to make a difference.”

“How do you know all that?”

“Because I've been watching you. Every time you came back to Snowflake to visit your cousin. At the fair. Learning about you. Wanting you so damn bad it keeps me awake at night.” The confession slips out rougher than I intended, but I don't take it back.

Everly's breath hitches. “Bruno…”

“I know what you're thinking. I'm too old for you. Too rough around the edges. Too set in my ways.” I lean forward, closing the distance between us. “And you're probably right. But I'm a selfish bastard, sweetheart, and I want you anyway.”

“You really think this is about age?” Her voice drops to a whisper. “You think that's what's got me scared?”

“What's got you scared?”

She looks up at me then, and the vulnerability in her eyes nearly brings me to my knees. “I’m scared of how much I want you back. And how I want to say yes to whatever crazy thing you're offering, even though we barely know each other.”

The admission hits me like a physical blow. Before I can second-guess myself, I'm sliding out of my side of the booth and into hers, crowding her against the window. She gasps but doesn't push me away.

“Beautiful,” I say, one hand coming up to cup her face. “Tell me what you want.”

Her pupils are dilated, lips parted. Her pulse is fluttering at her throat, fast and erratic. “I want…”

“What, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

I don't need to be asked twice. My mouth covers hers, and she tastes even better than I imagined. Sweet like the cotton candy she spins, but with enough fire underneath to make my blood sing. She melts against me, one small hand fisting in my shirt while the other tangles in my hair.

The kiss starts gentle, exploratory, but when she makes a soft sound in the back of her throat, control snaps. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, claiming, possessing, and she meets me stroke for stroke like she was made for this. Made for me.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Her lips are swollen, hair mussed up, and she's never looked more gorgeous.

“What was that for?” I ask, my voice low and rough.

“I wanted to know what it felt like before you risk everything tomorrow.”

“And?”

Her smile is slow, devastating. “Worth the risk.”

I want to take her home right now. Want to carry her to my truck and drive up that mountain road with her soft thighs spread across my lap. Want to strip that pretty dress off her and worship every inch of her skin until she's crying my name.

Instead, I force myself to behave. To take her back to her car with nothing more than another soft kiss and a promise to see her tomorrow.

But as her taillights disappear down the mountain road, one thing's crystal clear.

Win or lose tomorrow, Everly Parnell is going to be mine.