been prepared for the effect she would have on him. Seeing her for the first time after so many years away had been like falling into an oven after being trapped in a deep freeze. He didn’t know whether to bask in the heat, curse or crawl out and toss in a bomb.
Lincoln West rubbed two fingers over his stubble-dusted jaw, saying, “The women here don’t seem to like her much.”
“There are rumors suggesting she’s a man-eater,” Dane said. “It’s even been debated whether or not she consumes her prey whole or spits out his bones.” He’d also heard she only ever slept with married men, and dumped the poor saps as soon as they were ready to divorce their wives.
What’s more, she supposedly had a daughter, though no one even knew the father’s name.
Dane would never admit this aloud, but he’d made a point to talk with every party attendee currently living in Strawberry Valley. After a while, he’d stopped trying to be stealthy with his questions, and just flat out demanded answers. Everyone had been more than happy to tell him everything they knew about her...only to pepper every bit of information with all the reasons he should leave Oklahoma City, where’d he’d spent the past sixteen years, and return “home.”
He’d return for good in...never.
“That sweet little morsel a man-eater?” West gave him a light tap on the arm. “I’m not buying it. You’ve seen her busing drinks to help the staff same as I have.”
Dane didn’t want to believe the gossip, either. To say he was disappointed by what he’d heard was the equivalent of calling an ocean a puddle. But...if she was anything like her mother...
Yeah. It all came back to that. Even though he knew better than most that a kid shouldn’t be blamed for the mistakes of the parents. Which was actually why he was here. Not to support his dad’s idiotic decision to marry the woman who had helped destroy their family, but to apologize to the little redheaded girl he’d hurt all those years ago.
He’d never forgotten the way her freckled face had washed with pain and fear as his mother had screamed at Roanne the day she’d discovered the affair. Or how Kenna’s little body had trembled. Or how, despite all that, she’d tried to comfort him, even though he’d called her all kinds of nasty names.
It’ll be okay. You’ll see. Everything will be okay.
He had expected her to grow into a pretty woman. After all, it was her mom’s pretty face that ensnared and obsessed his dad. But Dane had not expected this. A beauty more delicate than a fairy-tale princess, with the body of a porn star. Not stick-skinny as society worshipped, but lush and round and soft. A woman’s body.
From the moment she’d stepped into the sitting room, he had been unable to tear his attention away from her. She had a cascade of stunning red hair that possessed the barest hint of a wave. Large eyes shaded with different colors of green were fringed by spiky lashes of jet-black. Plump pink lips formed a heart in the center, surely the epitome of sin. And her skin...damn. A mix of porcelain and silk with the most adorable freckles scattered throughout.
He’d never been a freckle man, but she’d already converted him. He was pretty sure his inner frat boy would have traded his right nut for a chance to trace a path from one of her freckles to the other—with his tongue.
His hands balled into fists. Desire a Starr woman like his father? No. Humiliate his mother further? No, again.
But whatever Kenna’s past—or present—she still deserved that apology.
“I think I should get to know her better,” West said, and Dane’s fists automatically tightened. He wasn’t sure why. “I could use a friend when I move to Strawberry Valley.”
The guy had been looking for a remote place to settle down. He’d never voiced his reasons, but Dane had his suspicions.
West had had a rough upbringing, bouncing to a new foster home every six months or so. Then he’d gotten into some trouble with drugs and pissed away a full ride to MIT. A cautionary tale, yes, but one with a happy ending. The guy had gotten clean a few years ago and gone on to create a programming system Dane had purchased for eight figures.
Having never had a permanent home, West had to be looking for someplace to put down roots. He probably thought a small town where everyone knew your name—and your business—was a little slice of heaven.
He’d soon learn better.
But he wouldn’t be learning with Kenna. Because she’s soon to be my sister. No other reason—truly. “I’m your friend.”
“You aren’t moving back here. She can show me around.”
“I’ll show you around when I visit.”
“But you won’t get naked with me.”
His eyes narrowed as he said, “I will if you insist, but she’s off limits. She has a kid.” Maybe. Probably.
“So?”
“So, you don’t do mothers.”
“Always a first time for everything.”
Irritation nearly choked him. “You’ll have to pick someone else.”
West arched a brow at him. “You staking a claim?”
“No.” He didn’t do mothers, either. Hell, he didn’t even do commitment. With so many options on the buffet, there was no reason to settle for a single entrée. He would never be like his father, making promises to one woman while lusting after another.
Always better to keep his options open.
“I just don’t want her getting hurt,” he said. “Consider me on big-brother duty and drop it.”
A bark of laughter sounded. “You? Looking out for a woman’s feelings?”
“It’s not that hard to believe.”
“You forget how long I’ve known you. I’ve witnessed the pulverization of your business rivals. I’ve watched you send your assistants into hysterics with a single look, and your dates into bouts of tears with a single word. You, my friend, are what’s called an asshat.”
“And you seriously suck.”
Jada, Dane’s companion for the evening, returned from the bathroom. “You ready to go, baby?” She scraped her nails down the center of his tie, a promise of things to come.
Go? His gaze snagged on Kenna—again. She was dressed like the servers, only the outfit was particularly indecent on her, her every dramatic curve on display. Curves that her scarf couldn’t hide. But despite the boldness of her dress choice, she appeared almost...shy as she conversed with those around her. Definitely awkward.
When she thought no one was looking, she would bend down and rub her feet. Blisters? When she walked the room after standing for a bit, she would teeter on her high heels. And her smile was clearly fake, practiced rather than natural. A few times, she’d hidden behind potted plants. And yet, when single men leered at her and presented her with a phone number on a napkin, she displayed no surprise or feminine affront, just accepted the “gift” and said something to make the male laugh—before discreetly disposing of the napkin later on.
The contrasts of her intrigued him.
West was right. She couldn’t be a man-eater.
“Dane.” Jada stepped in front of him. “Are you listening to me? I asked if you were ready to go.”
“Not yet.”
She stood on her tiptoes and whispered, “Even though I’m so hot for you my panties are melting?”
He patted her hand, tried for a charming tone. “Even though.”
“Dane,” she said, stiffening. “You’ve barely even looked in my direction this whole night.”
“I’m