“What are you doing on my rock?” she demanded.
Before he could answer, she hit him with another accusation.
“You’re not supposed to be on our land.”
He’d picked himself up off the dirt and loomed over her. “Yeah, what are you gonna do about it, short stuff? Tattle?”
“Maybe.”
“Hey, I know you. You’re in first grade.”
“I’m going into second grade,” she corrected him.
He eyed her suspiciously. “If this is your land, how come you don’t ride the bus with me’n my brothers?”
“Because my mom works in town and she picks me up after school.”
“What about your dad?”
“I don’t got a dad.”
“Why? Did he die or something?”
“No. It’s just me’n my mom.” She scowled. “How’d you sneak in here?”
“Didn’t sneak. I walked.” He pointed. “From that way.”
Her mouth formed an “O”.
“What?”
“You’re one of them.”
Even at age nine Dalton hadn’t needed an explanation on what she’d meant. But he’d immediately shot back, “And you’re one of them hippies.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!” Then the blonde sprite had charged him, knocking him on his butt in the dirt. He’d cried out, not only because a girl had tackled him—a girl!—but by pouncing on him, he’d hit the ground hard.
“You take that back,” she’d shouted in his face.
She’d sat on him and kept his arms pinned down. Man, she was really strong. “Lemme go.”
“Not until you take it back.”
“All right, all right, you’re not a hippie.”
Not three seconds later she’d grinned at him and let him go before she stood.
Indignant, Dalton heaved himself to his feet. “I wasn’t really tryin’, you know. I could’ve gotten away from you at any time.”
“Then why didn’t you, huh?”
“Because I ain’t supposed to hit girls.”
“Oh.”
“What’s your name anyway?”
“Aurora Rose Wetzler. But everyone calls me Rory.”
“Aurora Rose? Ain’t that the name of one of them Disney princesses?”
She lifted her chin. “No. The princess in Sleeping Beauty was named Briar Rose when she was in hiding with the fairies. I’m Aurora Rose. Not the same at all.”
“Huh. I’m Dalton—”
“McKay,” she finished with him. “You’re in third grade.”
“Goin’ into fourth grade,” he corrected.
Rory walked around him and scrambled on top of the rock. “This is my rock.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Bet I can knock you off and make it my rock.”
“But you ain’t supposed to hit girls, remember?”
That’d put him in a dilemma. He’d scrambled onto the rock beside her. “Not the same thing. It’s like a contest. Or a game. Like playing king of the mountain.”
“That’s a stupid game.”
“We could play something else.” Might be fun to play with a girl for a change. He used to play with his cousin Keely but she bossed him around as much as his brothers did. Not that his brothers wanted to play anymore. And since he was older than Rory, he’d get to be in charge. “We could play pirates! The rock could be our ship.” Dalton struck a pose. “I could be the pirate king. You could be the princess I rescued from another ship.”
“No way,” Rory said. “I don’t wanna be some dumb princess. I wanna be the pirate king.”
“You’re a girl, you can’t be a king,” he scoffed.
“Then I’ll be the queen of the jungle.” She’d pushed him off the rock.
Rather than getting mad, he laughed at her audacity.
Surprised by his laughter, she laughed. And they’d become fast friends. Secret friends, running through the woods, splashing in the creek, making forts. The friendship parameters had changed during their teen years, but they’d been a constant in each other’s lives.
Dalton needed to remind her there was more than just bad history between them.
So on a whim Sunday morning he’d texted Rory, telling her he’d swing by her place at noon. But Rory’s dog, Jingle, was a lot happier to see him than Rory was—and Jingle growled at him.
Only not as much as Rory did. “You cannot just show up at my house whenever you feel like it, Dalton McKay.”
“I texted you.”
Arms crossed over her chest, she blocked the entrance to her cabin. “You didn’t ask if you could come over. You just said you were coming over. Big difference.”
Man, her hackles were up as much as Jingle’s—not that he’d voice that comparison. “So you’re not interested in the glazed donuts and raspberry-filled bismarcks I brought?”
Her gaze moved to the grocery bag dangling from his fingertips. “That is cheating. Plying me with my favorite donuts so I forgive your breach of etiquette.”
“Then why don’t you go ahead and add this onto my list of broken rules.” He pressed his mouth to hers, intending to share a sweet kiss. But the instant her lips parted, he couldn’t help but sneak his tongue inside for a tiny taste of her, which wasn’t enough. So by the time he forced himself to back off, his c**k was as hard as his breathing.
Good thing he wore a long coat.
“Not fair,” she murmured against his cheek.
“I warned you I ain’t gonna play fair.” He kissed her temple. “I haven’t seen you for two days. Which is two days too long. So you gonna let me in? Or will I be sharing these donuts with Jingle?”
“Come in.”
Dalton kicked off his boots and headed for the small kitchen.
“Sit and I’ll get plates. Would you like coffee?”
“Sure.”
Neither spoke until they were both settled at the table with food and drink. “How late did you work last night?” Dalton asked.
“Till it closed at two. The bar side was hopping so I helped out.” She ran a hand over the top of her head. “That’s why I’m a mess. I slept in.”
“You don’t look a mess to me. You look perfectly beautiful, as always.”
Rory’s green eyes turned shrewd. “Yeah, I’m some stunner today. No makeup, my hair pulled into a ponytail and I’m wearing sweats.”