The Cowboy Rode A Harley

Don't Walk Away Mad

Prologue

"SUGAR, WHAT are you doing here?" Stephen asked her. Loose gravel covered the ground and crunched under his boots.

"Just thinkin' is all." Dry-eyed she sat on the swing that Dad had made for her and her brother Haden. Sunday morning and Haden hadn't come by like he'd promised. Mom and Dad are gone.

After hearing that her parents had been killed in a boating accident, she'd cried so hard and so long it seemed like there was nothing fluid left inside her.

"All alone. Thinkin' about what?" Stephen knelt down before her. He was Haden's closest friend and he couldn't even reach her brother. No one could, it seemed.

"Can't remember." She tried to take a breath but her ribcage felt as if it would crack. Down to her cells, everything inside her was encased in something brittle, on the verge of shattering.

"We'd best be leaving. The realtor's out front. People are coming by to take a look." Stephen squeezed her knee and she nodded unable to speak.

His long dark hair spilled over one of his cheeks and a bright orange maple leaf drifted down and got stuck in his hair. Without thinking, she leaned forward and plucked the leaf free. Stephen lifted his gaze and locked his with hers. Like a million times before, her heart skipped a beat. Even in her sorrow, he had that power. His ocean blue eyes drilled into her and it felt as though he could see clear down to her toes.

Before it would have been a simple truth. But now, confused she felt in free fall without a parachute. Unlike Haden, she couldn't escape into music like he had. Not now.

This house had always been home. Now her childhood home was up for grabs to cover the bills. Even Nana and Granddad were at a loss. Stephen had taken care of finding them help to deal with it all.

Sitting out back under the maple tree with its branches that spread a canopy overhead, the place she'd always believed would be here when she needed grounding had been taken.

No more.

The lump in her throat expanded into a choking bubble. Stephen lifted to his feet and pulled her upward at the same time. Their bodies collided and she tried to breathe. The sting behind her eyes seared her lids and she blinked, which only made the pain worse, the ache inside her grow, and then she couldn't hold back. Tears flooded her eyes and she felt the ground give way.

Instead of falling, she was lifted against a wall of rock-hard muscle and secure in arms that kept her safe. Stephen's deep voice blanketed her with words and soothing sounds he whispered against her hair. He rocked her within his arms, gently cradling her as she buried her face against his chest. For minutes, she swam through a river of grief as she absorbed that Mom and Dad weren't coming back. Their house would soon be sold. And the life she'd known had changed, irrevocably.

When she lifted her face, Stephen wiped away the tears from her cheeks. "You're leaving too?" she asked.

His brows knitted together. "Gillian, I'm only a couple of hours away. I've got a race next weekend. Some sponsor I've put off. And I've fallen behind in school."

She shook her head. "It's okay. I was just checking."

"Things will get better," he said, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear. "Haden's got his band. What about your dancing?"

"Yeah. I hear what you're saying."

They gazed into each other's eyes and she felt their connection deep inside her flicker. He slanted forward as she tipped up her chin, and finally he stopped treating her like a kid. Their mouths met, then pressed together. Warm. Sweet. Everything she'd dreamed.

And more.

When he kissed her, she no longer felt flayed apart by disaster. She'd never been kissed before and had waited, wanting only him. For so long, he'd held back but not today.

He whispered one word, "Open."

A command and when she did, he pulled her flush to his broad chest, his stubble brushing against her skin. He licked across her lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth, exploring and coaxing her until she kissed him back. His hands moved down from her shoulders to her waist, then lower, bringing their bodies hip to hip. Against him in a world that was falling apart, she found she fit, and she wanted to tell him before it was too late.

"Excuse me," a woman's voice called out. "Can I get you to move your motorcycle?"

Stephen softly cursed and peeled apart from her. Without meeting her eyes, he tugged her arm. "I'd better take you to your grandparents before they get worried."