“Got tired of getting my ass kicked.”
“You deserved it most of the time.”
He grinned. “No doubt.”
“Let me go.”
“You gonna take another swing at me?”
“Not unless you try to kiss me again.”
“Might be worth a black eye.”
“Don’t.”
Now her eyes held panic. Awesome. “Rory—”
“Dalton,” she said sharply, cutting him off. “What do you want?”
“To talk to you.”
“Then let me go and come up to the bar and I’ll make you a drink.”
“I won’t turn you into a pariah for associating with me, jungle girl.”
Her lips formed a sneer. “You reminding me of the times when we were kids and I didn’t hate you isn’t helping your case, McKay.”
“But it ain’t hurting it, either.” He released her.
“Did you go to law school since I last saw you? Because that was a lawyer’s tactic.”
“That’s why I cornered you. I wanted to plead my case without interruptions. Or without anyone recognizing me.”
Rory gave him the wide smile that made his heart skip a beat. “I doubt your mother would recognize you.”
“Guess we’ll see if that holds true later this week.” Dalton slumped against the wall next to her.
“FYI, no one is gunning for you anymore about jilting Addie.”
“I heard that she married Truman. I’m happy for them.”
A few beats later, she said, “Enough with the bullshit small talk and you trying to maul me, Grizzly Adams. Why are you here?”
He snorted. Grizzly Adams. “In Sundance? Or at the Twin Pines?”
“Both.”
“I’m in Sundance because Casper had a stroke.”
The hard glint to her eyes softened. “I’m sorry. Is he okay?”
“He can’t talk. And without coming across like a dick, that ain’t all bad. Weather was shitty in Montana and I just got here mid-afternoon. Saw Casper, took a rash of shit from my brothers and I figured what the hell. Why not add your scorn to the crap I’ve dealt with today? Facing my demons and all that.”
Rory cocked her head. “I’m a demon for you?”
Dalton couldn’t stop himself from touching her beautiful face. “You’re my biggest demon. I wish things had happened differently. But at the time…I didn’t have a choice.”
“And now?”
“You tell me. I had no idea you were livin’ in Sundance.”
“How’d you find out?”
“Sierra.”
Rory muttered, “I’m gonna kick her ass. You’re back in Sundance for…how long?”
“No idea. So can we get together and talk?”
“About?”
“You know what about,” he said softly.
“Don’t do that,” she snapped. “Act like everything was just a misunderstanding and give me those goddamned puppy dog eyes, Dalton. You know what you did to me.”
“And you think it was easy for me?”
“Yes. Because you left the next day. The very next day, after you told me—”
“Don’t you think I at least deserve a chance to explain?”
Rory laughed bitterly. “Fat chance, McKay.”
Then he was done being a nice guy. Dalton blocked her body with his. “You’ll give me a chance or I’ll seize the chance when it arises and I won’t give a damn about whether it’s convenient for you.”
“Like right now?” she demanded. “When I’m working?”
His mouth brushed her ear. “So I’d pick a time and pick a place for us to meet if I were you, or make no mistake, it will be on my terms.”
“Pushy bastard. Fine. I’ll meet you. Now get your scruff outta my face, Chewbacca. I can’t breathe.”
Dalton laughed and eased back. “Tell me where and tell me when we’re meeting.”
“I have to work at the WNRC tomorrow. I’m on call for the happy hour shift here tomorrow night. So how about if I call you?”
Nice try. “Sure. But since you don’t have my number…” Dalton grabbed her left arm and pressed her body against the wall. He removed the Sharpie from his pocket and quickly scrawled his digits down her forearm.
“Omigod, you are such a pain in my ass,” Rory snapped. “You couldn’t have just written it on a scrap of paper?”
“Nope.” Keeping hold of her arm, and locking his gaze on hers, he kissed her wrist. “Because you’d conveniently lose it. I want you seeing that number and thinkin’ of me.”
“Fair is fair. Gimme that.” She snatched the Sharpie, pushed up the sleeve of his thermal shirt and printed her digits much larger.
He bit back a laugh when she realized what she’d done—now even if she didn’t call him, he could call her. “Thanks. But you forgot to kiss it.”
“No, I didn’t. And for the record? I hate the beard.”
“So noted.”
She turned and stormed off.
Dalton let her get to the end of the hallway before he said, “Rory.”
She whirled around. “What?”
“I’m really happy to see you again. And this time I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Then he slipped out the side exit.
After Rory got home, she paced, a glass of bourbon in her hand.
I’m really happy to see you again.
Hah. What was she supposed to do with that? Believe him?
Wrong.
Everything about this was so wrong and had the potential to f**k up her head again. Dalton being in Sundance, showing up at her job. Acting so un-Dalton-like, sweet and contrite.
Bull. He acted like that all the time when he wanted something from you, and it worked every time with you.
No. She wasn’t falling for this again. She’d been down this road with him before.
Three times as a matter of fact.
Rory drained her drink and flopped in the big Papasan chair, pulling her knees up to her chest. She closed her eyes. Maybe she’d drift off before the memories crushed her.
No such luck.
For days after the unexpected and abrupt halt to the wedding, Rory had remained by Addie’s side. Listening to her cry. Being the supportive best friend. Running interference with Addie’s family members who were out for Dalton’s head on a spike. Or a bloodletting. Or both.
But Rory hadn’t chimed in about Dalton McKay’s status as douchebag supreme. Yes, it hurt to see Addie’s misery, but a part of her—a very large part—wasn’t surprised. Rory had been a victim of Dalton’s douchebag ways—not that she’d ever shared those moments with Addie. Some things were just too embarrassing to share with anyone.