Dirty Country Love: A Step-Brother Romance Novella by Candy Quinn Page B

seems,” he remarked,
sliding the gun into his pocket as he held her close still.
    Damien leaned in real close, his deep voice a low husk as he
murmured to her.
    “Y’know, that’s a bit far to go for an
inheritance. Even by my standards,” he remarked with dry
humour. Or at least, Britney hoped it was humour!
    But with his warmth pressing into her, she was havin’ a hard
time thinkin’ straight. She’d always been his annoying
adopted sister, someone he never had time for, and he’d never
held her like this before, not ever. She could smell the fresh air
and rich leather off him, and it was intoxicating.
    “I thought you were a burglar,” she said, trying to
sound calmer and more in control than she felt.
    “Nah,” he said, “not tonight.”
    He flashed her a wink before finally letting her go from his iron
grasp.
    “And damn, Brit. It’s been a long ass time,” he
said, crasser than ever as he unzipped the front of his jacket,
showing a tight white shirt that clung to a well sculpted torso
beneath.
    Whatever Damien had been up to all these years, he sure as heck
wasn’t takin’ it easy, judging by all that muscle beneath
his leather.
    She wanted to be a smart-aleck, to come back at him with something
quick witted, but she was staring at his chest even though she knew
she ought not to.
    Nervously she went to tuck some blonde hair behind her ear before
realizing too late it was all up in a ponytail. She licked her lips
and took a deep breath.
    “Well yea, you been in the city the whole time,” she
finally managed.
    Though a peek upwards showed she wasn’t the only one starin’
at a chest.
    “Startin’ to have regrets about that,” he
remarked, slidin’ one thumb into the waistband of his jeans as
he tongued the center of his lower lips. It was an awkward sort of
moment, but before it went on too long he said:
    “When’d you get here, sweetie?” His voice kinder
than she was used to, even though it was rougher than ever. Probably
been smoking and drinking all these years.
    “Earlier today. Just... cleanin’ mostly,” she
replied, and where his voice was hard and rough, hers had gone even
softer and more demure. Why was he looking at her like that?
    The way his hand rested on and in his jeans, it tugged ‘em
down an inch lower, pulled his shirt taut so that she could make out
the bumps of his abs through the white cotton. He leaned one hand up
on the wall as he got in real close to her.
    “It’s a real shame about pa,” he said, which
struck her by surprise, seeing that his mind seemed to have gone
elsewhere from the moment he saw her. “But it was enough to
draw the two of us back together here, at least. He’d have been
happy ‘bout that.”
    “Yea,” she answered, because it was true. Old Drake
always wanted the two of them to get on better and to keep in touch
more but that never happened.
    She fluttered her eyes closed, feeling a bit overcome by it all
and those weird thoughts she was havin’. She’d noticed he
was cute when they were younger, sure, but that was just a harmless
crush and then he rode on out of her life like he didn’t care
at all.
    But now he cared.
    The moment drew on between the two of ‘em for a while, with
Damien reaching a hand up and brushing back a stray lock of hair from
her face. But at last, he smiled unevenly again and pulled away.
    “Gonna go hit the hay, Britney. Didn’t see no car out
front, so I s’pose that means you’ll be ridin’ with
me to the funeral tomorrow,” he said, turning and strolling
slowly towards his former room in the old house.
    On his motorcycle?
    Just the thought of it gave her the chills — the
good-but-bad kind — and then she felt guilty that Mr. Drake’s
funeral wasn’t the first thing on her mind. Damien was.
    She nodded mutely, a lump in her throat keeping her quiet as she
pictured herself grabbing onto those abs as they rode up the dirt
road.
    It was going to be hard getting to sleep.

Chapter 2
    Mornin’ came