17. Aiden

Chapter Seventeen

AIDEN

Losing the prize money wasn't the end of the world; Aiden could still earn the cash he needed by picking up some side work. Something always needed an extra pair of hands in cowboy country. The loss of face didn't upset him much either; he was used to that. A man who'd been in as many crazy situations as him over the years didn't sweat about little things like embarrassment. But he couldn't shake his anger.

Fury rode him hard the rest of the day. He compensated by playing even harder. He hooked up with some drinking buddies and spent the day eating too much, drinking even more, and sampling every event the festival had to offer. He'd never been much of a bow hunter, so he didn't waste his time with the archery contest, but he tried his hand at axe throwing and ice sculpting. He relieved the volunteer at the polar dunk tank, soaked his head for a while, and then warmed up around the bonfire, drinking beer and telling bawdy jokes.

The families and tourists didn't stay long past sundown, leaving the younger crowd to put the new pavilion and sound system to use. The night sky was cloudless and lit up by an explosion of stars and a fat gibbous moon. The temperature plummeted after dark, and frost coated the frames of the cold vehicles in the parking lot. Couples snuggled together under blankets beside bonfires, sharing drinks and kisses to keep themselves warm. Dancing had started up inside the pavilion, but half the dancers left mid-cross shuffle to watch as a group of young cowboys decided to bareback race their horses down Main Street.

Aiden considered joining them, but his heart wasn't in it, especially when it would only prove Seth's argument right. The last thing Aiden wanted was to end up cooling his heels in lockup for the rest of the night. So, he stuck with dancing.

The open-air pavilion was a chaotic mass of bodies moving in time to the pounding bass of a classic rock song. Dancers were crammed like baby chicks beneath the overhead heating coils, and the air was steaming despite the occasional gust of frigid wind. Twinkle lights had been strung along the rafters, but they'd blown a fuse, plunging the area in a dim, ambient red light.

Aiden lost himself in the thick of the crowd, dancing with anyone close enough to grab. Men, women, it never mattered. He was just goofing, and everyone knew it. Line dancing wasn't a tool of seduction; not for him. It was a way to cut loose and connect with people. Attention and affection weren't things that were freely given—they were coaxed out.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd pretended to have so much fun…all to spite the man watching from the shadows.

Seth was an immovable sentinel at the edge of the crowd, propping up a heavy beam with nothing but broad shoulders and a bad attitude. Aiden tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t shake the weight of that stony gaze.

No one approached Seth, and he didn't talk to anyone else; he was too busy keeping tabs on his baby sister. Tessa had been cuddled in a corner with Riley Jensen for hours, just talking and nursing the same flat beer. When the two kids checked the time on their phones and headed out –

together —Aiden swooped in and caught Riley by the elbow.

"Hold up," he said jovially, tugging the kid around to face him.

Riley glanced at Tessa's back, yearning toward her with every fiber of his being. "I'm just driving Tessa home," he said.

"Yeah, I bet," Aiden said dryly. "Look, I know she's a grown woman and all, but you've got to understand something. See that guy over there?"

He turned his back to the McCall siblings and jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

Riley's gaze flickered toward Seth and immediately away, as if afraid to linger for more than a moment and risk attracting his attention. His Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, and he nodded. "Tessa's already told me he's protective," he said hesitantly.

Aiden threw back his head and laughed, but it only seemed to make the kid nervous for some reason. "More than that," he said with an easy grin. "There was this one time back when I worked at the Double Jay. We were out riding fence, and we came across a poacher who thought he'd help himself to the bucks on our private property. Seth rode his mare right up on the guy, knocked him ass over tea kettle, and grabbed the rifle out of his hands. Then he shot out every tire on the guy's truck and made him walk seven miles to the old Miller farm for a ride."

"Damn," Riley said with a nervous laugh.

Aiden tilted his head and said, "Seth doesn't mess around when it comes to something he considers his to protect. And Tessa? She's more important to him than any piece of land. Get me?"

Riley's complexion had gone pale, and a film of sweat gleamed on his upper lip, but he still managed to look Aiden dead in the eye. "I got it," he said solemnly. "I respect her, I swear."

Aiden was reluctantly impressed. He let up on his intensity and gave the kid a friendly clap across the shoulders. "You better," he said cheerfully. "Because Seth isn't the only guy in Tessa's life who knows his way around a rifle."

He chuckled softly as he watched the kid hurry away, complimenting himself on a job well done, when he felt a prickle along the back of his neck. He turned…and there was Seth, wrapping Tessa in a bear hug but watching Aiden over her head with those dark, dark eyes. Aiden's stomach twisted.

He thought about the story he'd told Riley. He'd gone easy on the kid, all things considered. That was one of his mildest anecdotes. Aiden could have told him about the time he'd been running his mouth after a summer rodeo and gotten pinned by a roided-up bull wrangler. Seth had taken the oaf from behind and suplexed him into the ground, knocking out two teeth before getting pulled off him. Or he could have mentioned the incident on the old bridge. Seth had followed Aiden despite his misgivings, and when the condemned structure gave way, he was the one who hauled Aiden out of the class-three rapids with a strength born of sheer desperation. Then there was the story of the bear and the scars Seth still carried on his flank because of him.

What Aiden had told Riley was true: there was nothing Seth wouldn't do for the people he cared about. Like duct-taping Aiden to the seat of his truck. Like forcing himself to participate in a festival where no one wanted him just to keep an eye on Aiden. Like hauling him off Buck Carson earlier and reading him the riot act, not because Aiden was a burden or an inconvenience, but because he cared. Even after so many years apart…he still cared, and Aiden was punishing him for it.

Aiden broke eye contact when the weight of Seth's gaze became too much to bear. Tessa had left, but Seth was still there, watching over him. Guilt crept in, overriding Aiden's anger no matter how hard he tried to hang onto it.

He felt like a loser.

"Catch!" Luis Herrera stood atop the makeshift stage where a three-piece fiddle band had played all afternoon, tossing beers into the throng of dancers. Aiden swiped a can out of midair and popped the top, slurping up the frothy liquid as it spilled over his fingers. He drained the can in one long pull, throat bobbing, and sighed.

"Fuck it," he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He cut through the crowd toward Seth and grabbed him by a belt loop. "Tess and Riley are gone," he shouted over the music. "You can stop scaring people with the ogre routine now."

"You don't look scared," Seth said, eyes gleaming.

Aiden grimaced comically. "Yeah, well…like you and my mom love to remind me, I've got no sense of self-preservation."

"Never too late to learn."

"Exactly." Aiden's grin felt feral, and he tugged experimentally on his belt loop. "C'mon then. You're going to learn how to have fun again. It's time to dance."

Seth didn't budge. "I don't dance," he said flatly.

"You do now," Aiden snarled, yanking so hard that Seth was forced to go with it or else snap the denim completely.

"You're drunk," Seth said, grabbing Aiden's hand where it hooked into his belt loop with a grip that felt like a vise. Aiden ignored the warning. If Seth wanted to get free, he was going to take some of Aiden's fingers with him. Otherwise, the bastard was going to dance.

"I wish," Aiden cracked sharply, "but you took the fun out of that. All I've got left is dancing, so the least you can do is join me."

"You're ridiculous," Seth said, but he didn't seem as angry as earlier that afternoon. There was some affection in his tone again.

Aiden didn't pause to celebrate his rush of victory; he merely turned and began manfully dragging a reluctant cowboy toward the dance floor, one halting step at a time. The music shifted to an old-school country melody with a steady, rhythmic bass that pounded through the floorboards like a heartbeat. Perfect. He shouldered his way to a place in the back of the crowd where it was darkest, hoping the dim light would put Seth at ease. He knew he was pushing Seth hard, maybe pushing him too far, but it felt like something inside him had snapped. He couldn't abide this distance between them for one more minute. He wanted his friend back.

No, he wanted this new Seth, the one who looked at him like he wanted to eat him alive.

He tugged Seth into line beside him, fingers still tucked into his belt loop, and said, "Come on, cowboy. Even you know the basic steps."

There was a strange gleam in Seth's eyes. "I don't remember," he said stubbornly.

Aiden looked him dead in the eye, refusing to be intimidated by the boy who used to take him fishing before church on lazy summer Sundays. Not even if that boy had turned into a man with violence simmering beneath his skin. "Then just follow my lead," he taunted.

He joined in the chorus, stepping left, then right, then adding in a grapevine and pivot turn with a heel dig at the end. Unless he wanted to cause a scene, Seth had no choice but to follow suit or risk tripping up the other dancers. They moved in unison through the simple pattern a few times, then repeated it and added a shuffle-step, bumping hips as they moved.

Seth might not be a party boy, but he was so familiar with his own body that he was a natural at dancing. He moved with a strength and agility that set him apart from the other dancers. His tense shoulders held perfect dancing form, and his long, denim-clad legs ate up the floor. The woman beside him, some city transplant Aiden barely recognized, scooted close and tried to wrap an arm around his waist.

Aiden leveraged the makeshift leash he'd made of Seth's belt loop and tugged him closer, leaning in to tickle Seth's ear with his breath when he whispered, "Looks like that cougar wants a piece. Should I leave you two alone?"

Seth closed his eyes like he was in pain. A muscle spasmed beneath the late-night stubble on his jaw. When he opened his eyes to look at Aiden, they were full of conflict—and something else. Heat. He'd worn the same hungry, carnivorous look the night he'd helped Aiden in his trailer. The night he’d kissed him.

"You're playing with fire, Doyle," Seth warned in a low hiss. His hand was firm on the small of Aiden's back, drawing him forward until their bodies nearly touched.

Aiden's pulse skyrocketed until he could feel it pounding in his throat. The sexy strain of the bassline dropped away. They weren't dancing anymore. They stood frozen at the end of the dance floor. It felt like the edge of the world. Aiden's senses were overwhelmed by Seth's nearness, the scent of sweat and leather, the hard palm against his back, and the heat radiating from Seth's body.

Aiden wanted . He wanted Seth so desperately that he thought he'd lose his mind. He wanted...

"More."

Seth's control snapped. Without warning, he grabbed Aiden's hips and yanked him flush against his body. Aiden's breath hitched, and he instinctively wrapped one arm around his neck to keep from losing balance. The line of dancers moved on without them, and then Seth was shoving him backward, off the dance floor and into the darkest corner of the pavilion, away from the flare of the bonfires.

Aiden's back connected with a heavy post, knocking the wind out of him just before Seth swooped down and sealed their mouths together.

That stole the rest of his breath.