TEX

She was all things dirty. Blacked out, skintight, glossy lips, and fuck-me hair. Why was she dressed like that? Where had she even gotten something like...that? This was not my girl. My girl was sweet. She was innocent, and this girl...she was a woman.

Stepping away from her was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do. She didn't even know how good she looked. She had no fucking idea.

But the men did. Sergio did. That mother fucker. His brows lifted, smile dimmed, and I wanted to gouge his eyes out. "Pretty girl..." He held out his hands, tone reverent. "You are goddess."

Fern blushed. "Thank you."

Son of a bitch. I pulled out a cigar, lit it, and took a deep drag. It didn't do shit to calm me. Not with him watching her. Not with the men on deck murmuring. Not when they could see all those curves I'd been working so hard to keep secret. My free hand curled into a fist.

Fern's fingers brushed my knuckles, and I looked down to find the softest goddamn expression I'd ever seen. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "Please, don't fight. I can go change."

Well, shit. That was a great fucking idea, but it felt wrong. Like I was taking something from her. For what? She wasn't in any real danger. The men I trusted most knew to watch the ones I didn't. Sergio and his bunch were outnumbered. I opened my fist, caught her hand, tossed the cigar, then tugged her into my arms. "You look way too goddamn good to go change."

Her little gasp of surprise made me want to surprise her more. Over and over again. She had no idea what I'd been holding back. What I wanted to do, especially now. She was always so ready for me. I barely had to do a thing, and she was soaking wet and begging. I wanted her ass in the air, hair in my fist, back arched and crying my name. I wanted to fold her like a paper plane, see how far she'd go. But she nuzzled into me, too sweet for my thoughts, and I heaved a sigh. I wouldn't do any of those things. Not to her.

Sergio's knowing eyes met mine. Taunting, laughing, making silent statements about my balls. Little did he know, my balls were in the same place they'd always been, blue as hell and screaming for a reprieve.

I'd never been with a woman the way I was with her. Never in my life had I done nothing but give. Never had I denied myself. Being with women had always been like sleeping, or eating, or having a drink. It was a pleasure, a necessity, an itch to scratch, and while I'd never been the type to leave a woman wanting, I'd never not taken anything in return.

But not with Fern. She was something different. Special. She writhed beneath me, begged and pulled and demanded I give her things without knowing the words to say. But, so far, I'd kept it together. I'd left her intact. I couldn't take all of her, not knowing where I was going. She couldn't belong to a dead man, and she was the one thing my conscience wouldn't allow me to steal.

My arms tightened around her, pinning her in place as if that would fix it. Time passed too fast, and all the things that could have been taunted me with the hand I'd been dealt. If I'd been a better man, a good man. If the world was different. It could have been me. I could have slid a ring onto her finger and said whatever words I needed to say. I could have gotten an honest job and used my money to shower her in all things pretty.

But those were pipe dreams. All I'd get was this, and I'd spent a week branding my image into her mind. When she found the man worth her virtue, it would be my hands she thought about. My mouth, my tongue. In the dark, it would always be me. I wanted her to remember me. That was the only way I could keep her. A space in her heart, carved out for the man she'd met in the woods.

Fern pulled her face from my chest and settled against my side, keeping her arm around my waist as if she knew exactly what I needed. She was perfect. Girls around the club would have relished the attention. They would have longed to see me beat some poor bastard bloody over them. Hell, no damn way were those pants made for any other purpose than to start trouble.

But Fern wasn't like that. Her position sent a clear message. That she was mine. She was loyal. I wanted her that much fucking more for it.

Sergio took in her statement and grinned. "Come! Food is ready. Is respectful for goddess to get first serving."

She didn't let go, and I didn't either. I held her beneath my arm, tucked away like a baby bird as we followed him toward the kitchen. The men we passed offered respectful nods and discreet once overs. I wished she'd get cold, then I could cover her with my jacket without having to feel like an asshole.

Fern gently broke away when we reached the food spread across the counters inside the kitchen. Several plates of meat, the plants we'd gathered, and some canned items like sweet potato and cranberry sauce. Thanksgiving was only a couple days away. One day too late. I hadn't thought about it. Not with Julia gone. It had been years since the men and I celebrated anything. Halloween had been for the kids. Thanksgiving would have been off the charts if Julia had had her way. It would have looked like this.

Fern took a plate from the stack at the end of the row and walked a line as she took what she wanted. Sergio stepped forward, grabbed a plate, then walked back and handed it to me. "Man who butchers the meat gets second plate."

I took it with a slow nod, watching him closely for any sign of falsity. But there was none. I wasn't sure which annoyed me more; when he pissed me off or when he didn't. I passed him and stabbed a steak, plopping it onto the plate and hurrying to catch up with Fern. A line formed after me; women and children followed by every man for himself.

Fern led the way above deck, and I bit my lip hard as I trailed her up the steps. Had her hips always swayed like that? God, she had a great ass. I held my plate in one hand, adjusted my jeans, and stared at the wall until we reached the top. She was driving me insane. I wanted her. She'd made it clear she wanted me, and I was finding it really hard to remember why we shouldn't.

Fern took a seat against the wall beside her bedroom door, and I took the spot beside her. Gradually, people spilled into the open space that stretched in front of us. An odd mix of families and rough men. Like me and her. Two different breeds of human. Her golden and good, and me scarred up and stray.

She bumped her shoulder into my arm and held up the plate. "This is our first kill together."

I smiled, easing a fraction. "You killed it. I just accidentally stayed out of the way."

She snorted. "I thought you saw the whole thing. Vicious deer and all." She picked up her steak with both hands, took a huge bite, then closed her eyes as she chewed.

I wet my lips. "War stories, Darlin'." The words were too hoarse, and I cleared my throat. It was awful damn hot for November. The doorway to privacy dominated my peripheral. It would be too easy to guide her inside, shut the door, and see what else could make her face look like that.

She finished chewing and swallowed. "War stories?" She laughed. "It was hardly a war, Tex. The deer didn't even look up until the arrow hit him."

"Sounds pretty impressive to me." And it was. She was. "No harm in making legends." I leaned closer, letting her hair brush the tip of my nose. Sweet like berries. My jeans grew tighter.

I pulled back and focused on the steak. I'd been looking forward to it. I'd been hard pressed to think about much else until she walked out looking like that. Now, the thing sat like scraps in front of me, and all I could think about biting was her.

"Aren't you hungry?" Fern shifted to peek at my face.

I stared at her a moment. The curve of her breasts peeking through the V of her sweater. The way it clung to her hips. "I'm starving."

Her cheeks reddened, eyes widened, and she sat back and picked at her plate. "Me, too," she whispered. "You've been keeping all the pie to yourself."

"Pie?" I lifted a brow.

"You know—" She shrugged, refusing to look at me. "In the dark. What we do." Her neck flushed, matching her face, and I swear to God, I'd never been so fucking turned on by a woman in my life.

"No, Darlin'. I don't. You're gonna have to explain it."

She turned to me with narrowed eyes. "Don't tease me."

I laughed. She was too damn cute. And sexy. And perfect. "My apologies." I took a bite of the steak and groaned at the flavor. It had been too long since I'd had red meat. A man my size needed it. I finished it quickly, then set the plate down. "So...about this pie."

"Just, forget I said anything." She shifted. "It's just something—It's...it's nothing."

"I like it." I stroked the hair hanging down her back, relished the shiver it earned me. "What kind of pie we talkin'?" I pushed the hair over, revealing the slender neck hidden beneath. I loved her neck. That little freckle beneath her ear was like a button. One press of my mouth, and she'd be turned all the way on.

"I don't want to say. Now that I brought it up, it sounds dumb."

"I wouldn't tell a soul," I promised. "As a matter of fact, we should continue this conversation somewhere more private. You know, just to be safe."

She peeked at me from beneath her lashes, and I forgot how to breathe. "You've had enough pie," she said. "I'm not giving you any more until you decide to share."