All For Arabella (Haven, Texas #16)

Prologue

Three years ago . . .

Arabella snuck out of the hotel.

Her father was already asleep. He’d worn himself out with all his blustering and anger and taken himself off to bed about half an hour after they’d arrived in Haven.

Coming to Haven to track down Cole was a stupid idea. Cole didn’t want to marry her. He’d made that very clear. But her father thought he’d just needed a break.

From her.

Because everything was always her fault. She was never good enough. Never pretty enough or smart enough or obedient enough.

Never perfect.

Although Lord knew she tried.

Her father blamed the ‘temporary’ break-up on her. He’d told her that she must have annoyed Cole and forced him into needing a break.

But she knew that wasn’t it.

When Cole broke things off with her, she’d acted like she didn’t care, but the truth was that she’d been devastated.

Not because she loved him, but because Cole had been her ticket to getting away from her father.

It might sound insane, but if you met her father you’d get it.

Abusive. Mean. A nasty rattlesnake waiting to strike.

She shuddered and pushed all of those thoughts out of her mind. What she needed was a distraction.

It was nearly nine and growing cooler outside. She wished she’d thought to grab a sweater on her way out.

Oh well.

No way was she going to return to the hotel and risk waking her father.

She needed some time to herself and this town was so darn pretty. She walked toward a place called Dirty Delights. Hmm. Interesting name. It looked like a bar.

Did she dare?

Arabella Bridges in a bar in a small town in the middle of nowhere . . . her father would have an absolute fit.

All the more reason to go in, really.

Where had this rebelliousness come from?

She didn’t know. But she liked it.

As she stepped inside, she suddenly grew apprehensive. What was she supposed to do? Where did she sit? What if someone tried to talk to her?

Who are you kidding? You shouldn’t be here.

Idiot.

“Hello there, darlin’. You got a name or can I call you mine?” a teasing voice asked.

She glanced up at a smiling man. A very attractive man. Shoot. What did she do? He was talking to her!

His smile faded and a look of concern entered his face. “Hey, you okay? Is something wrong? I was just joking, I need to know you for at least five minutes before calling you mine.”

She still had no clue what to say. Probably because he was flirting. At least she thought he was. And she had no idea what to say.

Etiquette lessons hadn’t covered flirting cowboys in bars.

“I’ve never been to a bar before,” she blurted out.

He raised an eyebrow. “Never?”

“Never,” she whispered, cringing. Did that make her pathetic?

He glanced behind her. “There’s no one with you?”

“Um, no.”

A look of surprise filled his face that she didn’t understand.

“I’m guessing that you don’t live here, darlin’.”

“Um, no. I’m staying at the hotel. I can leave if I have to . . . “

“Nope. Come on. If you’re gonna pop your cherry in a bar, this is the one to do it.”

“Pop my cherry?” she asked, staring at him with wide eyes.

He let out a bark of laughter. “Not like that. I meant that if there is any bar to come to alone it’s this one. Nothing bad will happen to you here.”

“But it might somewhere else?” she asked.

“The world’s a dangerous place, darlin’,” he murmured, looking slightly . . . haunted.

Arabella squashed the urge to ask him if he was all right. If anyone knew about being haunted by their past it was her.

He led her to the bar and lifted her onto a stool. She let out a small squeal, but his hands quickly left her waist. “Yo, Devon!”

A good-looking man turned from where he’d been speaking to someone at the end of the bar and raised his eyebrows.

“Come here!” her new friend yelled, waving his hand through the air.

Arabella could feel herself growing red. She glanced around as people turned to stare.

“Um, you really don’t need to yell,” she said. “I’m happy to wait until he’s free.”

“Darlin’, he wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t tell him you were here.”

What?

That made no sense.

“What is it?” Devon grumbled, staring at her with a frown.

Great. Maybe he thought that she’d asked her flirty friend to yell out to him.

“This is . . . what is your name, darlin’?” her friend asked.

“I’m Arabella.”

Her new friend whistled. “Fancy name. This is Arabella. She’s never been to a bar before and she’s staying at the hotel. She’s also on her own.”

Arabella sighed, glancing around. “Could you say that a bit louder? I don’t think they heard you in the back.”

His grin grew wider, then he took in a deep breath. Without thought, she reached up and placed her hand over his mouth. “Do not.”

Devon snorted. “She’s got you pegged, Shaw. You’re safe to let him speak now.”

Arabella dropped her hand, her cheeks growing even hotter.

“You good to watch over her?” Shaw asked.

Devon eyed her and nodded. “You’ll sit here. Don’t move without telling me. If you want to leave, I’ll find someone to escort you back to the hotel. Anyone bothers you, then you signal me. I get busy, you wait here until I’m not. We clear?”

Arabella gaped at him, blinking rapidly. “Um, is this a usual bar experience?”

“No, darlin’,” Shaw said. “You’re in Haven, now. People around here take care of their women.”

What did that even mean?

“I don’t live here.” And she wasn’t anyone’s woman.

“You’re here temporarily. That means while you’re here we make sure you’re taken care of,” Devon told her.

“And you do that for every woman that comes to this town?” she asked in amazement.

“Of course,” Devon said simply.

That was . . . unheard of.

“What do you want to drink?” Devon asked.

Shoot. What could she order? She knew better than to have any alcohol. Her father wouldn’t like if she wasn’t in control, if she did something stupid.

What? Like come to a strange bar in a town where you know no one?

Well. That wasn’t true. She had a new friend called Shaw.

“Um, just an orange juice please,” she said.

“A juice?” Shaw asked.

“I don’t like to drink.” She’d only taken one sip of juice when Shaw let out a loud whoop, making her startle and spill some.

“Oh no. I’m so sorry,” she said to Devon. “Do you have a rag and I’ll clean it up.”

Devon raised his eyebrows. “You barely spilled anything. And it’s Shaw’s fault for giving you a fright so if anyone should be cleaning it up, it’s him.”

“All right, this is my song,” Shaw said, rubbing his hands together as people started getting up and standing in a line.

“Oh, are they line dancing?” she asked.

“Sure are, you want to try?” Shaw asked.

“Oh no, I couldn’t.” She shook her head. “I’ve never done it before. I’d get it all wrong and make an idiot of myself.”

“Darlin’, that’s half the fun. Come on.”

“Shaw, you cannot force her to dance,” Devon warned.

“Don’t be such a boring old man, Devon,” Shaw told him as he lifted her down and grabbed her hand, tugging her along.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” she said. “I have two left feet.”

“You know what your problem is, darlin’?” Shaw asked.

She had so many she didn’t know which one to choose. Shoot Should she just choose one and hope for the best?

“Is it that I’m not very smart?”

Shaw paused and when he turned to stare at her, his face was filled with thunder. “What did you just say?”

“Or is that I’m a bit of a coward? Because I’m definitely that,” she said quickly.

His face seemed to grow even angrier.

Shoot.

What did he want her to tell him? She wished he would give her a clue.

“Or maybe it’s that I’m a bit boring. I don’t have anything interesting to say.”

Shaw was just gaping at her at this stage.

“What the fuck?” he whispered.

Well, to be honest, she couldn’t actually hear him over the music. That’s just what she thought he said.

“What did you just say?”

“Um, you asked what was wrong with me,” she pointed out.

“No, darlin’. I said do you know what your problem is. And I was going to tell you that your problem is that you think too much. However, now I think that you have another problem. Who told you all of those things?”

Oh shoot.

Why did she talk so much?

It had to be the orange juice’s fault, it had loosened her tongue.

“No one,” she said. “I was just joking with you.”

“If you’re in trouble, I will help you,” he told her.

Wow.

There was no way that he could know what those words meant to her, and she could feel herself starting to well up.

“Thank you, but I’m fine.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Now, why don’t I believe you? I should probably take a leaf out of Tucker’s book and kidnap you.”

“What?” she squeaked, taking a step back.

Reaching out, he grasped hold of her wrist. “Or I could take a leaf out of Remington’s book and tie you up. Fairly certain several of my brothers like to do that.”

She shook her head.

“You are none of those things, darlin’. And you shouldn’t let anyone tell you that.”

She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“Now, follow my lead.”

Five minutes later, she messed up another step but instead of cringing or freezing like every other time she’d made a mistake, she found herself giggling as she nearly fell.

“That’s it, darlin’!” Shaw cried. “Just give in to the beat. Do whatever you feel like.” Instead of following the moves, he did his own, making her laugh. What was that? Was he pretending to start something? A lawnmower?

When they were finished, he led her back to her seat.

“How was that?” Devon asked, watching her with a small smile.

“I haven’t laughed like that in years,” she said, unaware that the two men stiffened.

“Fuck, darlin’. You’re making a good case for me to kidnap you.” Shaw frowned.

“What?” Devon asked, looking startled.

“Someone planted the idea in Arabella’s head that she’s lacking,” Shaw explained.

Devon’s gaze narrowed and stretched out his arms. “Tell me who. I’ll take care of it.”

Jeez.

What was it with the men in this town? Or maybe it was just these two.

“No one. Really,” she said.

“Still think I should kidnap you,” Shaw said.

“You can’t,” she said with alarm.