Page 37 of The Runaway and the Rugged (Dusty Meadows #1)

The second he realized it was me, his entire body froze in place with wide, flustered eyes aimed directly at me.

“Uh, hi.” I gently placed Grace’s phone back onto her nightstand before folding my arms over my chest. “Morning.”

He observed me thoroughly, from head to toe, until his jaw locked into place.

“What are you doin’ in here?” His tone was anything but friendly, almost icy in its coldness from the tension simmering beneath his words.

“Grace let me use her phone,” I responded quickly and anxiously as my toes wiggled their way into the plush rug beneath me.

Dressed for the start of a hard workday, it was nearly impossible to not appreciate how good he looked.

Like an evolving painting, he grew more and more beautiful with each passing day I was in his presence, watching him closely, and discovering who he truly was.

Even now when he was scanning me with blazing intensity, as if on the verge of shouting, he still held the same, unique beauty.

“Who’d you call?”

Straight-forward and no-nonsense.

“Clarke,” I answered with a weakness lingering in my tone.

“Hmm.”

His stare dipped down as he drew out a long, hard breath.

I was moments from apologizing. From saying whatever was needed to make him smile at me again, but a small part of me, the one that was so accustomed to apologizing for every reason, hesitated and didn’t want to.

I could apologize for the way I acted, for what I said in the messages I sent, but for simply having fun for once, without anyone holding me back? I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t.

Not anymore.

“You don’t have to hold back, Garth. I can see that you’re pissed off about what happened last night. So, just tell me why.” Although I was trembling more than I had confidence, I was still able to put my words out there without faltering.

His jaw had tensed even tighter, but everything else remained the same.

“You really want to do this? In here?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t think it matters where, does it?”

Unless Grace walked in, but I could sense he was moments away from unloading.

“I ain’t pissed at you,” he grunted, but his tone said otherwise. “I’m pissed at what happened and what could have happened.”

I wasn’t convinced, at least, not that he wasn’t upset with me.

“I’ll admit that I did drink too much, but I promise it wasn’t on purpose.

” I uncrossed my arms, and I could have sworn Garth’s gaze swept across my chest before jerking back up to my face.

“I rarely ever drink and I just… I wanted to have fun, for once. I wasn’t really considering the potential consequences or what could go wrong because I figured I could handle it, but I was wrong. ”

It was nearly impossible to read him. His expression didn’t change but I did capture a slight shift in his stance. Less intimidating and more… relaxed.

“It’s okay not bein’ able to handle everything and like I said, I ain’t mad at you for having fun. It’s good to hear that you had some fun, but in an environment like that, you need to be careful. Especially when I ain’t there.”

He winced inwardly.

“When a man ain’t there to protect you.”

My blood flared hot suddenly.

“I don’t need another man hovering over me, telling me what I can and can’t do.” My words sliced through the air like an unexpected whip, but Garth didn’t falter.

Instead, it had quite the opposite effect as the corner of his mouth twitched.

“I don’t want that either, Outlaw. I just want you safe from touchy assholes who lift you onto tables.”

I swallowed.

“I shouldn’t have gone up to him, but I didn’t expect him to do… that.” My voice trembled with the wave of humiliation that surged within me. And it didn’t help that the hopeful smile I captured on Garth’s face had suddenly fallen and was replaced with a clenched jaw.

“A woman shouldn’t have to worry about that kind of shit, and I promise you it ain’t goin’ to happen ever again.” He sounded sincere.

Dangerous.

A sudden memory from last night crossed my vision, his tone, his anger, and the rough jerky motion I felt when I was in his arms as if he had either kicked or hit someone.

And by someone, the grabby guy who had hauled me onto a table.

A sharp, disbelieving gasp tore from my throat.

“You hurt him, the man who touched me, didn’t you?”

His nostrils flared at the mention of him touching me.

“Yeah.” He shifted to stand taller. “Stopped me on the way out and wouldn’t stop runnin’ his mouth.”

My god, he truly is my protector.

“What…” I gulped. “What did you do?”

A bead of sweat broke out across my forehead.

I was a complete mess with terrible breath, a snarly head of hair, and a dress that smelled like stale cigarettes and beer.

Yet, Garth was looking at me differently, as if I weren’t the disheveled gross woman standing before him, but instead something else entirely.

“What did I do?” His voice dropped to a sinful octave, sparking my thighs to quiver with anticipation. “I can tell you what I wanted to do.”

He took a confident step toward me, leaving me utterly breathless.

“What… What did you want to do?”

Another slow, drawn-out step closer and I swear I could smell the arousal and heat emitting from him.

“Wanted to show him that he had no right to touch what ain’t his.”

My heart flipped.

“That the woman in my arms wouldn’t look twice at a wannabe fuckin’ cowboy like him.”

Jesus.

“Especially when she has the real fuckin’ deal waiting at home.”

He stopped just shy of my toes, his big, mountainous body nearly pressed against mine as I sought out to find air, let alone words.

“Garth…” I moaned, desperate for anything he would give. Eyes thick and heavy with desire, I rose onto the tips of my toes, craving his mouth on mine. Yearning for a taste of forbidden, even if just for a fleeting moment.

“Emelia,” he groaned, my name sounding that of a desperate, longing man who wanted more than anything to take from me what he desired most. “Christ, you fuck me up, Outlaw. Makin’ me want things I shouldn’t.”

I knew the feeling all too well.

“One kiss,” I all but panted, hovering closer and closer to his lips. “One kiss and I’ll stop. I’ll stop making you want things.”

I was pleading, begging, even though I knew I couldn’t stop myself from wanting him. It sounded like an impossible task.

“Don’t know if that’ll help,” he confessed. “Don’t know if I want that either.”

His arms were unbelievably stiff at his sides until I felt the firm, scraping touch of his fingertips against my hip bone. All the words died on my tongue.

“Causin’ all kinds of trouble for me, you and that mouth, that face, that sunshine.”

My eyes all but begged for him to kiss me already. He was close enough to lower his mouth, to at least graze his mustache along my upper lip and give me something instead of this torture.

And just when I thought our curiosity would be satisfied, our wants fulfilled, the faint hum of chatter just beyond the door had us both stiffening. In a matter of seconds, Garth had stepped back, removing himself entirely from my space, leaving me even more confused and unsure than before.

He refused to acknowledge me, his gaze now on the door that was opening, revealing a showered Grace and Greta in tow.

“Hey, did you… Dad? What are you doing here?” she asked, throwing her dirty clothes into a hamper before settling in close to me.

“Nothin’, just wanted to see if you were awake.” He coughed into his palm, completely severing the moment we shared. Though it was probably for the best.

“Well, I’m awake.” She sent him a strange glance. “Can you maybe leave so it can be just girls in here? I’ll come downstairs in a little bit.”

All I wanted to do was leave, but I had a feeling Grace wouldn’t want that or let me.

“Sure, yeah, I’ll, uh, leave.” He all but stomped from her room and closed the door behind himself. Even Greta noticed something was off as she shot me a glance.

“Why’s he actin’ all weird?” she asked, but I couldn’t tell if her question was directed at me or if she was asking it out loud.

For someone with a hangover, she looked a million times better than I did. Though she was in a different outfit, her hair was a mess and smudged makeup still lingered on her face.

“Huh, must still be upset about last night.” She sighed and dropped down onto Grace’s bed. “Speaking of last night, I’m sorry about, well, everything.”

I wasn’t expecting Greta to apologize, but I appreciated it.

“I shouldn’t have let it get that far with drinking, and I hope you don’t think any less of me. Honestly, it’s just been my way of coping and I let that screw up our night.” Her eyes almost looked misty with her confession. “I’m really, truly sorry, Emelia.”

It was her sincere honesty that had me jumping onto the bed beside her. She didn’t appear weirded out or anything, but instead shifted to the side to give me room.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. If you need to talk or anything, just know that I’m here for you.”

Like you were there for me.

She nodded, her silence speaking volumes, and I could tell she truly appreciated what I said without having to speak.

“Uh, move over, I want to lay with you guys too,” Grace announced, causing both Greta and me to giggle, and soon a cascade of dark wet curls came flying at us, the carefree, genuine moment simultaneously curing all my hangover symptoms until they eventually disappeared altogether.

Aside from what had happened with Garth, the weight of it was still there.

And whatever came of it, I hoped I’d have the strength to face it again.