2. Jonas
Jonas
Not even ten minutes. That’s how long it takes for Melody to get under my skin, and it sucks big hairy balls that I can’t seem to control myself when I’m around her. It also sucks that she’s so damn beautiful.
She dresses in short, flouncy dresses with curves that had felt magnetic the first time I’d touched her. I hadn’t wanted to let go even knowing she was in the middle of stealing my truck because one look into her blue eyes and all my brains leaked down to my cock.
He’s taken over from there. All boner and no brain. That’s me around Melody.
I walk my brainless ass across the road from the flower shop where I’d parked my truck and get in. I’d known from the day I refer to as the handcuff hump that she’s trouble. But I’ve done a good job of staying away from her. Until now.
My brother Marshall asked me to watch his kids, and I’d agreed without asking for any details. That’s how I ended up in this position. But whatever Marshall needs, I jump to help and he’s the same way when it comes to me.
A familiar lump builds in my throat. At the hellhole known as The Gentle Children’s Home where Marshall and I lived as kids, he was always running to save me. I scrub my hand down my face to shake the memories. I’m trying to thwart the sadness I sometimes feel when thinking about our past.
The two of us, along with our other brothers by bond, were rescued by our adoptive parents, Gavin and Frances Richford. They’re good people and I’d do anything for them. I can’t stand anything that hurts them. My fingers tighten on the steering wheel.
Right now, the entire family is working like hell trying to unravel the financial hurt that the former ranch manager caused.
Right under Dad’s nose, he forged Dad’s signature on loan paperwork pledging the ranch as collateral.
Then he skipped town. We’ve all been working our asses off making extra money to pay the loan in between hunting down that bastard.
Even if all the money he stole is long gone, I still want to see the man pay for the pain he inflicted on my family.
Chasing a lead on him was how I caught Melody in the act of trying to steal my truck. I’d gotten a call from a guy my brother Flint had hired to track him down telling me the former ranch manager had been spotted near Lucky River. I’d left in the middle of my meal at Bear’s Diner.
I glance at the flower shop’s front window as I pull onto the street, and my thoughts get stuck on that woman. Again.
Shit. This won’t do. I turn the radio on and turn it up loud trying to drown out my thoughts.
I’m nearly halfway back to the ranch when I realize I didn’t tell her why I went to see her to begin with. I curse and swing the truck around. That’s what happens every time I see her. I get turned upside down.
A parking spot opens directly in front of her business and I take it. I’m opening the shop’s door when the sound of glass breaking and a cry of pain makes my heart drop. I heard those sounds often at the Gentle Children’s Home.
I rush in, heart pounding, wondering who’s hurt.
Melody is kneeling amid broken glass and picking up fragments of a vase. One of her fingers is bleeding.
She lets out a yelp when she sees me. “You startled me,” she says.
I can’t answer. I’m focused on her finger. Whether it’s a drop or a lot, the sight of blood bothers me. It takes me back to a time when I was too little to prevent bad things from happening.
“Jonas?”
The sound of her voice snaps me out of the past and I stride over to lift her to her feet. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I steer her to the sink in the back and stand behind her while holding her finger beneath the water.
Problem number one. The water is cold. She is not. I am not. Her ass is against me. I’m against her. My fingers rest against her curvy hip. I’m on fire. I clench my teeth as my cock hardens.
“It’s not deep,” she says, turning her head to look into my eyes.
I make the mistake of glancing down at her. And I’m swimming in the blue of her eyes.
She chews her lower lip and I come to my senses.
I pull her away from the sink and walk her to a chair.
She sits and I turn to search for a first aid kit while discreetly adjusting my burgeoning cock.
I finally locate one and pull a chair up across from her.
“No one has ever bandaged my wounds,” she says like she’s in a daze after I take her hand and rest it on my thigh.
I apply antibiotic ointment and then glance up. Problem number two. I’m swimming again. “What?”
“No one was around so I bandaged up my own wounds.” She does a slow blink with those long lashes of hers, then frowns. “Why did you return?”
I smooth the ends of the bandage snug against her finger. “To tell you that Mom picked up the kids. She said she’d drop them off after we got dinner ready. So you don’t need to go to the school.”
“Okay.”
I’m still a prisoner of her blues. I swallow hard and try to take a deep breath, but the air feels too heavy for my lungs.
Melody frowns. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Her lips quirk with amusement. “Do you want a quick fuck or something?”
“No.” My denial has the strength of a dandelion against a hurricane and that embarrasses the hell out of me.
“Good, because that can never happen.”
“Agreed. There will be no physical ties between us.”
“Unless it’s ties to a bed.” She smirks when she says it, looking pleased with the way she’s taunting me.
I stare at her.
“It was a joke. Keep your denims zipped, cowboy.”
If my cock gets any bolder, he’s gonna unzip them himself.
She stares at me. I glance at her lips, then back to her eyes. She glances at my lips, then back to my eyes. She clears her throat and stands, shoving the chair away with the backs of her legs. “I’m going to walk away now.”
She says it like she’s trying to convince herself to move. Another minute passes.
The front door chimes as a customer walks in.
Melody hurries off without looking back.
I don’t know why I thought she would. I was adopted twice before Gavin and Frances rescued me and both times those so-called parents returned me to the Home then drove off without looking back. No one every looks back for me.
I don’t know why that memory pops into my head, but I hate it. I don’t need anyone, especially Melody, to look back for me. I don’t need pity.
I can’t believe I’m still standing here like a sad, lonely pecker. I quickly stride across the floor, brushing past Melody like I didn’t give her a second thought.
The drive back to my ranch passes painfully. I’m irritated, hard as hell, and tired.
My brother Kurt is there when I arrive to pack the things I’ll need to stay at Marshall’s. He’d promised to keep an eye on things here while I’m busy playing house.
He grins as soon as I step out of the truck.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be trapped with Melody.”
“I didn’t know she was part of the situation,” I say, mad at myself for letting that woman have so much of my mental space. I slam the truck door and head up the stairs to my porch.
With Gavin and all my brothers helping, I built every square foot of this place. The three-bedroom log cabin is a far cry from the tiny, windowless room I was kept in at the home.
I made sure my house was filled with sunlight. My brothers got together and built a room on the back that has floor to ceiling glass. I can see out but no one can see in.
Kurt follows me inside and heads straight to the kitchen for a beer. “I’d help you pack, but I don’t want to. I’d feel guilty. Like I had a part in sending you into the lion’s den.”
“I can handle Melody,” I tell him ignoring the misgivings telling me no the fuck I can’t. I don’t know why a ball of trepidation is sitting in the pit of my stomach. Nothing’s at stake here. There’s no emotional risk for her or me. I can’t touch her heart and she can’t touch mine.
Unfortunately, I do want those beautiful curves. I want them under me. I want them over me. I want to bite and lick and taste.
And despite the way she talks, I can tell the way she looks at me that she wants me, too. And that is problem number three.