15

Dolly

After climbing out of Ringer’s truck, I waved goodbye and thanked him before heading toward the apartment building. The past four days, Brick had been outside my apartment when I went to bed and woke up. Ringer arrived to take me to work, then brought me back. There had been no more calls or texts from Canyon, but Micah, on the other hand, was calling me at least once, sometimes twice a day.

After the gun incident, when I had freaked out on him, he’d stayed away, but he checked on me. Asked me about my day and listened when I started rambling on about what all had happened. He even laughed and seemed to be enjoying my need to give him more information than he required.

“I’d better stay here.” I heard Brick’s voice talking to someone at the top of the stairs. “No, I can’t do that. Not without Micah’s approval. You’ll need to call in Tex to help out,” he said.

There was no other voice, and I realized he was talking on the phone. I wasn’t sure if I should interrupt him or not. I had planned to tell him I was going to see Mrs. Mildred. She hadn’t been home the last time I had stopped by to help with her bills, and they were due now. I knew that much.

“Micah claims she’s slow. He’s not messing with her. Shut that shit down. The boy hasn’t even been over here in days,” he said in a low voice that I could still hear clear as a bell, seeing as the building was quiet.

I gripped the handrail hard and stood there, letting his words sink in. Slow? What did he mean, Micah said I was slow? I felt bile rise in my throat as my stomach turned.

“She’s a sweet girl. Too damn sweet for him. Don’t know if she’s slow or not, but if Micah wants to think so, it’ll keep him from fucking her.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then backed away to stand where I couldn’t be seen if he looked down here. Placing a hand on my stomach, I tried to talk myself out of being hurt.

It didn’t matter what Micah Abe thought about me. I shouldn’t care at all. It had been years since anyone had accused me of having some mental deficiencies. I’d proven them all wrong.

When I didn’t hear Brick talking anymore, I waited a few more minutes before walking back to the bottom of the stairs.

If I never laid eyes on Micah Abe again, I would be just fine. The nerve of him to call me slow. What did even know about me? Nothing. He didn’t know me enough to have any opinion on my intelligence. He was the slow one.

I called out from the bottom of the stairs, “I’ll be up in an hour or so, Brick. I need to help Mrs. Mildred with her bills.”

Brick’s large body appeared at the top of the stairs. He had a burger in one hand and was chewing. “I’ll be right here if you need me,” he replied.

I nodded, then headed to the door to the right of the stairs and knocked on Mrs. Mildred’s door. The welcome mat needed sweeping off, or maybe I should just replace it. I made a mental note to look at getting her a new one. This one was worn and frayed.

The word slow kept taunting me, and I clenched my hands at my sides.

Damn you, Micah Abe.

I had been having a perfectly good day, and he had ruined it. I didn’t want to give him that kind of power. Not now or ever.

The door opened, and Mrs. Mildred beamed up at me. “Dolly, I just put on a pot of tea. My great-nephew is here visiting. Come on in and have a cup.”

I hadn’t met her great-nephew, but I’d heard about him more than once. Mrs. Mildred mentioned him often. She had never had kids. She had two nieces and three great-nieces and one great-nephew. Walen was the only boy. First one in three generations.

“I don’t want to intrude. I was just stopping by to help with your bills. I can come back tomorrow,” I replied.

She reached out and wrapped her hand around my wrist. “Nonsense! You come right on in and have some tea. Walen was just telling me about his latest rodeo win.”

I’d forgotten that she said Walen was a bull rider. It seemed like a dangerous, stupid choice in life, but then I had been dating the vice president of a motorcycle gang. Who was I to judge?

Mrs. Mildred tugged at my arm, and afraid she was going to lose her balance with just one hand on her walker, I went inside the apartment. It smelled of peppermint and licorice, like always.

“I’ll just have a cup and then leave you to visit,” I told her.

She turned her walker around and started toward the kitchen. “No rush. Come on in and have a seat. I’ve got a lemon Bundt cake in the oven.”

When we walked through the doorway, the man standing over by the coffeepot wasn’t tall, but he had wide shoulders and lean hips. His butt looked nice in the jeans he was wearing too. Then, he turned his head, and dark brown eyes locked on me. I hadn’t expected Walen the bull rider to be attractive. But he was nice to look at. Firm jawline, covered in a short beard; brown hair cut short; and golden-brown skin from being out in the sun so much, I imagined. What he lacked in height, he made up for with muscle. Thick, corded arms, free of tattoos.

“Walen, honey, this is Dolly Dixon. My neighbor I’ve told you about. She’s come by to help me pay my bills. I told her you just won a pretty penny at the last rodeo. She wants to hear all about it.”

That wasn’t exactly true, but I wasn’t going to correct her.

I forced a smile, feeling slightly embarrassed. “It’s nice to meet you, Walen. I tried to tell Mrs. Mildred I’d come back later, but she insisted.”

My phone rang, and I pulled it from my pocket to see Micah’s name on the screen. I declined it, then stuffed my phone back in my pocket.

He grinned. “She’s got a Bundt cake in the oven. We can’t eat all of that alone,” he replied and motioned to the table. “Please, have a seat. I need your help convincing her to come back to my hotel with me. It’s safer than her apartment, and it looks like we have about ten hours before the hurricane hits.”

On the ride home from work today, I’d seen people boarding up windows. Even Barnes & Noble had closed early to prep for the storm headed this way. I figured the apartment complex was safe enough, but if we lost electricity or there was an emergency, I liked the idea of Mrs. Mildred being with her great-nephew.

Pulling out a chair, I sat down across from where Mrs. Mildred was sitting.

“No need to worry about a hurricane. I’ve lived through my share,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Walen’s one of the best bull riders in the country,” she bragged. “What are you ranked now? Fourth, or is it third?”

Walen chuckled and sat down at the end of the table with his coffee. “No, Aunt Mildred. I just broke the top ten last year. I’m still sitting at nine.”

She waved a hand as if that didn’t matter. “You won almost a hundred grand at that win last month. That ought to put you higher up. How do they determine those rankings?”

Walen looked from his aunt to me. “She’s a touch proud,” he said to me.

I nodded. “Yes, she is that. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

He groaned and leaned back in the chair. “I’m sorry about that. I can’t imagine that is real enjoyable.”

“You hush up,” Mildred told him. “Dolly likes to hear about it. She said so.”

Walen cut his eyes at me with a twinkle in them. He was amused. “I bet,” he drawled.

“Walen just broke up with his girlfriend. She wasn’t good for him. Didn’t appreciate his riding and was bringing him down. It was about time they ended things. It’s a shame you started dating that new guy.”

My face heated, and I dropped my eyes to the table, not sure how to handle this.

“Aunt Mildred, Lacy was my fiancée, and I’m gonna guess Dolly isn’t in need of your matchmaking help either. Why don’t we talk, enjoy some of your cake, and not make her any more uncomfortable than she already is?”

Mildred waved a hand at him. “She isn’t uncomfortable. Are you, Dolly?”

My eyes widened as I looked from Walen to Mrs. Mildred. “Well, uh—”

“Yes, she is. Why don’t you check on the Bundt cake? We don’t want it to burn. I’d like to take it with us when we head to the hotel.”

“I’m not going to the hotel,” she argued.

I jumped up, thankful for the excuse. “I’ll do it. You stay put,” I told her and hurried over to open the oven.

I needed a reason to leave, but I didn’t have a good one, and it was too late to think of one now. It would be clear as day I was running off. I hadn’t mentioned needing to prep for the storm when I stopped by. They would know I was lying if I tried using that excuse now. It wasn’t in my raising to be rude. Besides, Walen seemed nice enough.

A knock at the door gave me yet another reprieve.

“Cake isn’t ready just yet,” I told them. “I’ll go see who’s at the door.” Not waiting on Mrs. Mildred to stop me, I left the room, sighing in relief as I reached the front door.

However, once I opened it and found Micah standing there in a pair of black jeans and his bare chest, showing under his open leather vest, I wished I hadn’t opened it after all.

“What are you doing here?” I snapped.

He raised an eyebrow. “Looking for you. There’s a hurricane headed our way, and I did try to call. You declined it.”

Yes, I did. And you called me slow.

“I think everyone is aware of that. I’m fine,” I replied.

He shifted his stance and studied me. “You in a snit about something, Tink?”

Yes, Micah Abe, I absolutely am in a snit. Because you called me slow, you jackass.

“Just don’t see why you had to stop by my neighbor’s, is all.”

“Is there a problem, Dolly?” Walen asked from behind me.

Micah’s gaze hardened as he looked past me. I was not going to let him make a scene and upset Mrs. Mildred.

“No, Walen. This is my best friend’s brother. He’s just looking for me. I hate to leave before the cake, but I need to get something for him,” I explained.

Walen nodded, not looking sure about my explanation. Right now, Micah looked every ounce the badass biker. His tatted chest was on display, and he had his hair pulled back in a ponytail, but some strands had gotten loose. I was sure Walen was thinking I had myself mixed up with some dangerous folks. He had no idea.

“Yeah, we can wait on you to return. Cake isn’t ready yet anyway,” he replied. His entire body seemed tense as he kept looking at Micah.

I felt Micah’s hand touch my waist, and I almost jumped right out of my skin.

“Let’s go.” His tone was demanding, and if I wasn’t afraid that he’d do something unnecessary, I would tell him to piss off.

Instead, I did my best to hold my smile. “Tell Mrs. Mildred I’ll be back when the storm is over to help with the bills.”

Walen finally looked at me. He didn’t seem pleased with my decision, but he wasn’t going to argue with me. “Okay. I’m here until I convince her to leave, if you need me.”

“She won’t,” Micah snarled.

I spun around and glared up at him. “Go,” I snapped and shoved past him and out the door.

He closed it, but I didn’t stop walking. I stalked toward the stairs, annoyed by the way he had acted toward Walen.

“You sure are moving on from Canyon real damn quick, Tink,” he said, entirely too close to me.

I reached the top step and spun around, then tilted my head back to look up at him. Ugh! Why did he have to look like that? So, so panty-droppingly gorgeous. I hated him. I hated him. I had to remember that while looking at his bare chest. Jabbing said chest with my fingernail, I made an angry growl in my throat.

“I went to help Mrs. Mildred pay her bills. That was her great-nephew. He is there to take her with him before the storm hits. That was all that was going on, not that it is your business. You didn’t have to be rude.”

Micah grabbed my wrist to keep me from the constant jabbing I was doing with my pointed almond-shaped nail. “Sure didn’t seem like he was just there for his aunt. He was ready to take me on for you.”

“Because you are all biker dude right now with the lack of proper clothin’ and messy, windblown hair. He was worried about my safety.”

Micah smirked. “No, Tink. He was pissed that I’d come in and messed up his time with you. He’d have asked you out before it was over.”

“Go back to the club, Micah. I am just fine without you being here.”

Brick cleared his throat, reminding me that he was up here. “Are we good here, or do I need to stay?”

“Go,” Micah replied, not looking away from me.

“STAY!” I shouted over him.

A low chuckle from Brick didn’t sound very promising that he was gonna side with me.

“It’s a fucking miracle you’re not married already. You can’t go anywhere and not draw a man in,” Micah said, surprising me.

I crossed my arms over my chest, not sure if that was meant as an insult or not. “I was visiting my neighbor,” I said through clenched teeth.

He smirked then. “So naive.”

That was it. I was done with him. Dropping my arms to my sides, I headed for the door. Brick was watching me, but I didn’t make eye contact with him. I reached for the doorknob and bit back all the things I wanted to shout at Micah. I wasn’t making a scene so that all my neighbors could open their doors and watch.

“I’m not here to fight with you, Tink,” Micah said.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. It didn’t help. I couldn’t stop myself. “Good. Because we both know I’m too slow to keep up!” I replied, jerking the door open and getting inside. Away from him. I didn’t want to see his face or listen to his stupid lies about what I had heard him say.

“Fuck,” Brick muttered just before the door slammed closed.

I paused at the closed door and listened to see what Micah would say, if he had any explanation.

“What the fuck did you say to her?” Micah demanded.

“I didn’t. Jesus, I wouldn’t tell her that. I was on the phone, talking to Jars. She must have overheard me. I didn’t know she was back.”

The door swung back open behind me. Micah was pressed against my back, and his arm went around my front with his palm flat against my stomach. I didn’t move. I wished I didn’t need to inhale because he smelled really good. And his hard body was warm, leaving no part of my backside untouched by it.

When his breath brushed against my ear, I shivered despite myself.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” The thickness in his tone made the bones in my body feel as if they had melted. “It was cruel, wrong, and I’m sorry.”

The way the last two words had come out fiercely, I believed him. But that didn’t change it.

“You’re sorry that I heard Brick say it. That I know that’s what you think of me,” I said just above a whisper.

His hold on me tightened. “Yeah, Tink. I did think that. When you were younger, you were different. But the woman you’ve become is clearly not slow. I said that before I spent any time around you or talked to you like I have the past few days.”

I swallowed against the lump growing in my throat, but said nothing. He wasn’t the first person to call me slow. It had just been years since I’d heard it. I’d thought I had overcome that description. That assumption from others. Just because I wasn’t outgoing and quick-witted. Just because I didn’t have a lot of friends and feel comfortable in a crowd. Just because things triggered my past trauma and I chanted a number in my head—or often out loud. It had made me the weirdo.

“I’m sorry, Tink,” he repeated. “I feel like a shit for saying it. I fucking hate that you heard him.”

His hand moved on my stomach, slipping under the hem of my shirt. The moment I felt his fingertips on my skin, my pulse quickened. What was he doing?

“I’d never do anything to hurt you. I’d kill anyone who did.” His deep voice sounded husky as he brushed his lips across my earlobe. “Tell me you forgive me.”

I wasn’t sure I could force words out of my mouth. Not with his hand up my shirt, the tip of his thumb brushing awfully close to the underside of my boob, and his heated breath on my ear. My body felt as if a spark had been lit in my stomach and was spreading like a wildfire to all my other parts.

“Please, Tink,” he pleaded, then kissed my temple.

I nodded. That was the best I could do, but it was his fault I’d lost all control of my functions.

“Thank you,” he said before his hand slid out of my shirt, and the wonderful, overwhelming feeling of his warmth left me.

My own hand flew up to my stomach as I pressed it there in hopes of settling myself.

“Go to your room, Tink.” His words sounded like a command. “Pack your things. The storm is threatening to be a Cat 4, and you need to be somewhere safe.”

What? How had he switched moods so quickly? He was making my head spin.

“Now,” he barked.

I looked back at him, trying to understand what had happened.

“Tink”—his eyes bored into me with a darkness in them I hadn’t seen before—“if you don’t go to your room, I’m gonna toss your sweet ass on the sofa and fuck you. I came here to get you safe. Now, go.”

The spark was back, and this time, it was between my legs. My eyes flew open in surprise. Was he really threatening me with that? Didn’t most women beg him for it?

“Don’t look at me like that,” he warned, taking a step toward me.

I didn’t move. Although I was tempted to throw myself at him. I could forget that he’d called me slow. I could forget everything if he would just touch me again. Make me feel like he had before. I’d never had the sensation his words were causing course through me. It was exciting, intoxicating. I wanted more of it.

“You want fucked? Is that it? You want me to jerk that sorry excuse for a skirt up, rip your panties off, and slam my cock inside that needy pussy?”

My knees went weak, and I reached out and grasped for the only thing near me, which happened to be Micah’s arm.

Micah grabbed my waist and pushed me back against the wall before placing one palm flat on the space beside my head while his other hand slid between my legs. I let out a gasp as his fingers slid inside my panties.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned.

My face felt like it was on fire while I was panting through the pleasure of being touched there. It was a mix of emotions. I was sure I wasn’t supposed to be that wet down there, but the way he was making me feel as he worked his finger inside of me made me not care.

He bowed his head and hissed, “Damn, baby, that’s a tight little cunt.”

My hips began to work on their own, wanting more of him.

“Keep it up, and you’re gonna get fucked hard against this wall. Is that how you like it? Hmm? Does that make you hot, Tink?”

“I don’t know,” I rasped. I shook my head, wanting more and not getting it.

“Sure you do, baby. Tell me how you want me to take this pussy,” he urged before kissing my neck and picking me up until the hard ridge in his jeans pressed between my legs in the exact spot I needed it.

“AH!” I cried out.

“It’s a big dick, baby. It’s gonna hurt at first. I’ve never had a cunt that tight. It barely took my finger.”

I trembled and rubbed my needy ache against him. “I don’t care. It’s gonna hurt the first time anyway.”

His entire body stilling was the first thing that registered in my lust-hazed mind. The fact he’d completely tensed up was the second. Then, he was gone. I was left panting against the wall, and he had moved away from me several feet.

I stared at him, trying to figure out what I’d said wrong and wanting to throw myself at him and plead for more.

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, and the horror in his voice was clear. A bucket of ice being dumped over my head wouldn’t have been more effective.

“Yes,” I replied.

“FUCK!” he roared, walking past me. He took five long strides, opened the door to my apartment, then walked out, slamming it behind him.

I couldn’t move. I stood there, staring at the spot where he had just been standing. Tears filled my eyes as humiliation began to settle over me.

Is that such a bad thing? Yes, it is, Dolly.

Men didn’t want unexperienced virgins. It was messy. There was pain and blood. Nothing passionate about that.

Sliding down the wall, I sat on the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees. I would cry. Get it out. Then pull myself together and move on. Forget it and never speak to Micah Abe again.