Incredulous, he stared. “Are you serious? I’ve lived here my entire life. They know me.”
“They know who you used to be. Not the man you’ve become.”
“What about you?” Nerves jangling inside him, he leaned forward. “Do I frighten you? Are you afraid of me?”
She swallowed. “Though part of you is dark and dangerous, I’m not frightened. Actually, you intrigue me.”
As soon as she spoke, her face colored, making him grin. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded. It wasn’t a come-on, I swear.”
“Too bad,” he said lightly. Then, while she appeared to be still trying to absorb this, he raised his hand to signal the bartender.
“I’ll have another. And bring the lady another one, too, whatever she’s drinking.”
Appearing relieved, Eve settled back in her seat.
“What was it like?” she asked. “What was it like, being in jail all those years for a crime you didn’t commit?”
“What do you think it was like?” Though he kept his tone light, he could feel the darkness settling over his face. “Being there was no picnic.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He waved away her apology. “I’d wonder, too, if our situations were reversed.”
“And now? What are you going to do now?”
Their drinks arrived, saving him from answering her question right away. He waited until the bartender had moved away, drinking deeply before meeting her gaze.
“I’d like to buy my own spread. Maybe in Nevada or Idaho. I’m not sure. But I can’t stay with my family forever.”
“Why not? We’re going to be family soon, you know, since your brother Duke is engaged to my sister Susan. She said they’re moving to his place on the ranch.”
“She’s there at the main house right now, decorating the Colton family tree.”
“And you’re not.”
Instead of answering, he shrugged.
“You know, I don’t understand why you’d want to leave Honey Creek. Your life is here, your heritage. Why would you want to throw all that away?”
When she looked so passionate, her blue eyes glowing, he wanted to kiss her. Hell, he wanted to do much more than that, but he’d settle for a kiss for now.
“Kind of personal, isn’t it?” he drawled, leaning back in the booth.
“Come on, it’s not that personal. It’s not like we’re complete strangers. I’ve known you forever. I’ve always envied what you have, that connection to the land.”
He studied her. “You’re right about that. I do love the land, my family’s ranch. If I could stay there, out on the land, and never have to deal with my father or with the town, that’d be one thing.”
“You really dislike Honey Creek, don’t you?”
He noticed she let the reference to his father slide. Everyone must know about his father’s deterioration. Everyone but him.
“Honey Creek has nothing to hold me. You know what? You’re the only person in Honey Creek other than my family who ever bothered to try to make contact with me in prison, the only one who wrote me. I never thanked you for that. I’m doing it now. Thank you.”
As though she wasn’t sure how to respond, she simply nodded.
“About that letter…” Dragging his hand through his longish hair, he grimaced. “I appreciate you writing it and I’m sorry I didn’t answer.”
“That was a long time ago. I probably shouldn’t have written that.”
“No.” He laid his hand across the top of hers, unable to keep from noting the difference, his big and calloused while hers was slender, delicate and warm. “You probably shouldn’t. But I was glad you did. You let me know that at least one person in Honey Creek believed in my innocence.”
“If you felt that way, why didn’t you write back?”
“Because your belief, my knowledge, was all futile. No matter what I knew, no matter what you thought, I’d been convicted. I was going to do time. Hard time. For Christ’s sake, I was twenty when I went in there. I’m thirty-five now. I went in a kid and now…I’m a man. That does things to you. Prison does things to you.” He hardened his voice. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
Pity flooded her eyes. He hated that and would have gotten up and left if he hadn’t seen something more there too, something besides pity.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Yeah. Me, too.” Then, maybe because some demon drove him, he did what he’d been wanting to do since he’d seen her. He got up, crossed over to her side of the booth and kissed her.
Chapter 2
When Damien came around to her side of the booth and leaned over her, Eve’s heart skipped a beat. As he bent close, she froze, feeling the way she imagined a deer in the headlights of a hunter’s truck might feel.
And when his lips slanted over hers…she melted.
For a second, she allowed herself to revel in the feel of him, the taste and wonderful masculine scent of him, before gently pushing him away.
“Don’t do that,” she said, her voice shaky.
Damien leaned back, but didn’t move away. Dark eyes glittering, he gave her a slow smile. “Why not?”
“Because I can’t get involved with you.”
“But you want to.” Again he moved closer, making her pulse kick up once more.
“Yes,” she admitted, licking her lips. “But I can’t get involved with you or anyone right now. In any way, shape or form.”
Just like that, his expression shut down. Moving stiffly, he pushed himself to his feet. “I understand.”
He thought she was refusing him because he’d been in prison.
“No, you don’t. Believe me.”
“Whatever.” Draining the last of his beer, he set the mug back on the table with a thud. “I’ll go take care of the bill. You have a nice night, Eve.”
Watching him walk away, she knew she should just let him go. “Wait,” she called, causing both the bartender and Damien to look at her.
She shot the bartender a glare that had him turning away, suddenly busy with rearranging something behind the bar. Since Damien made no move to come back to her, she rose and walked to him instead. “If you’d just let me explain—”
“You don’t have to.” He cut her off, flashing her a twisted smile. Cramming his cowboy hat back on his head, he grabbed his coat from the coatrack and headed out the door.
Inexplicably close to tears, Eve watched him go. Then, avoiding the bartender’s gaze, she grabbed her coat from the booth and made her way outside into the swirling, blowing snow.
Outside, the snowstorm seemed to be gathering strength. She hurried to her vehicle, shivering against the blustering wind.
Her Ford Explorer was old, but she kept it well-maintained. There was no reason for it not to start, but when she turned the key in the ignition and got only a quiet click, she knew she was in trouble.
Just to be sure,