Difficult Choices

By Sandy Sullivan

Delaney Dunn likes working on cars—anything with an engine really, much to the chagrin of some who can't put aside her choice of jobs to realize there is a real woman beneath those coveralls. When ex-boyfriend Jake Monroe comes back to town, Delaney must face the feelings she buried five years ago.

Jake Monroe is back for two reasons, Colby Mason and Delaney Dunn. Needs he's long denied have risen up and are threatening to choke the life out of him if he doesn't come to terms with his feelings for both.

Colby Mason refuses to face the facts. He loves Delaney and he wants Jake. After being the shoulder for Delaney when Jake took off five years ago, their relationship grew into something loving and concrete, but Jake's return shakes the foundation to it's core.

Can three friends become lovers and learn to embrace their true feelings without tearing everything they've worked for apart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandy Sullivan
• Release date: Nov 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9781944122102

Sandy Sullivan

Sandy Sullivan is a romance author, who, when not writing, spends her time with her husband Shaun on their farm in middle Tennessee. She loves to ride her horses, play with their dogs and relax on the porch, enjoying the rolling hills of her home south of Nashville. Country music is a passion of hers and she loves to listen to it while she writes. She is an avid reader of romance novels and enjoys reading Nora Roberts, Jude Deveraux and Susan Wiggs. Finding new authors and delving into something different helps feed the need for literature. A registered nurse by education, she loves to help people and spread the enjoyment of romance to those around her with her novels. She loves cowboys so you'll find many of her novels have sexy men in tight jeans and cowboy boots. Sandy’s website www.romancestorytime.com

Book preview

Difficult Choices

Montana Cowboys 4

Sandy Sullivan

EROTIC ROMANCE

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2015 Sandy Sullivan

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Erotic Romance

DIFFICULT CHOICES (MONTANA COWBOYS 4)

Copyright © 2015 by Sandy Sullivan

E-book ISBN: 978-1-944122-10-2

First E-book Publication: February 2012

Cover design by Beth Walker

Edited by Stephanie Balestreri

Proofread by Julie Reilly

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Secret Cravings Publishing

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

Dedication

This one is dedicated to the fans of the Montana Cowboys series.

I love you guys and I hope you enjoy this one as much as you've enjoyed the rest.

DIFFICULT CHOICES

Montana Cowboys 4

Sandy Sullivan

Chapter One

The distinctive low growl of the Harley vibrated through Delaney Dunn as she pulled the drain plug to change the oil on Mr. Abraham's truck. When she glanced out the open bay doors of the shop, her heart tripped over itself for a moment. The soft curve of the fenders, the sleek black paint job with the specialized accents of a custom spread made her sigh and press her thighs together. Strange how one of those bikes could make her hot, but they did. The sound of the engine, the smoothness of the ride and, oh yeah, a certain rider could do it too. God, she loved Harleys. Shiny chrome tailpipe, handle-bars and mirrors sparkled in the late summer sun, almost blinding her to the rider. Night Rod Special. Sweet.

Black leather chaps encased long, lean, muscular legs. One dark boot-covered foot shoved the kickstand down to brace the bike. A nicely emphasized ass met her view for a moment when he swung his right leg over the back to stand next to it. How she knew the rider was a man she wasn't sure, except most women couldn't handle a bike like that. Well, except maybe her.

Long slender fingers pulled the zipper down on the black leather jacket before yanking it off his shoulders, revealing bulging biceps ripped with strong muscles hard enough to absorb a touch of a finger or the punch of a fist.

Breathe, Del, breathe.

A white wife-beater tank top molded to an impressive chest, and a flat, oh-so-lickable abdomen. The man leaned slightly, giving her another drool-worthy view of his ass when he unsnapped the chin strap on his helmet and pulled it off. Shoulder-length jet-black hair settled around his shoulders, making Delaney's mouth go dry.

The man turned toward the gas pumps as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket. A small stud diamond twinkled in his earlobe. His straight nose, full lips and long eyelashes were all too familiar.

It can't be! God, please no. I can't handle this right now.

Delaney didn’t realize her steps took her outside the shop’s bay doors until she'd already moved halfway to where he stood. As he turned toward her, one side of those fantastic lips tilted up in a smile. Her heart sped up right before it slammed to a stop.

Delaney, he said in the low-pitched voice that still sent shivers down her back.

Jake. His name on her lips felt foreign and unwelcome.

Still doing what you do best, I see.

The amusement in his gaze rankled her nerves. Everyone knew she worked on engines—any engine since she'd been old enough to crawl up and get her hands under the hood of a car, truck or tractor.

Her gaze locked with his and the heat wavering between them still burned scorching hot. The years have been kind to you, Jake. Hot as ever, I see. She brushed a piece of hair off her cheek. What are you doing back in Red Rock? When you hightailed it out of here, I really thought you'd never darken the streets of this hole-in-the-wall town again.

I've got some business to take care of. Personal business.

Really. Hmm.

She glanced across the street noticing several people milling about near the diner, while she tried to get her wayward body under control again. Her sister-in-law, Laurel, stood talking with Emma Weston near the curb. The vague thought of what her police officer in-law was giving Emma grief over crossed her mind.

Everyone knew everyone in Red Rock, but Del and Emma had grown up together. Since their brothers were best friends, it would have been difficult for them not to know each other fairly well. The two women were total opposites though. Tomboy to the core, Delaney worked on cars, played with trucks and constantly had dirt under her fingernails. Emma, on the other hand, did the cowgirl thing, the cheerleader thing and the boyfriend thing—not necessarily in that specific order.

With her bottom lip between her teeth, she chewed nervously. The unease Jake's presence caused her pissed her off. She never could hide her emotions very well, but the last thing Jake needed to know was how uncomfortable he made her.

When she looked at him again, she said, Well, I hope you get things taken care of quickly so you can be on your way again. I know Red Rock isn't your speed or your home anymore. I, for one, don't want you here any longer than you have to be.

She spun on her booted heels and headed back for the open shop bay, but she knew he couldn't just let her walk away. Jake would never let her get in the last word.

Delaney!

Slowly, she came to a halt, never turning around. She buried her shaking hands in her coverall pockets, clenching her fists into tight balls.

We're not done, he growled. Not by a long shot.

Unable to stop herself, she glanced back over her shoulder. Yes we are, Jake. We were done a long time ago.

Delaney stepped inside the cooler interior of the shop bay and moved to her workbench. Her hands trembled as she tried to grab the wrench she needed to change the filter on the truck. The growl of the bike starting rumbled low in her stomach, spreading heat through her veins like molten lava. Harleys had a distinctive sound and the hum ramped up the desire seeing Jake started. After the sound of his bike faded in the distance, she finally let loose the breath she'd been holding and threw the wrench clutched in her fist across the garage.

Damn it! She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes to stop the tears. I will not cry. Tears don't help—never have. I'm not going to let him get to me again. Son of a bitch! she yelled, as she sank to the concrete floor. Heart-wrenching sobs shook her shoulders as scenes of their past came back in full force.

The first day of shop class her freshman year.

All right kids. I'm Mr. Long. I'll be your shop class teacher. During this semester we'll be learning some basics about working with tools and equipment. I know several of you are already advanced in these areas, but we have to treat everyone like they've never touched a power tool. The kids chuckled. Delaney looked from one boy to the next, taking in the scene around her. Most of them she'd known since grade school, but one stood out. Jake Monroe. Yes, she knew who he was. The two of them had been in several classes together over the years. Friends they weren't. He always seemed standoffish. Didn't smile much. Kept to himself. She knew he didn't have a father around and his mother worked as a waitress at the diner. They lived in a small house on the edge of town—him, his two brothers and two sisters.

Delaney? Are you sure you're supposed to be in this class? Mr. Long asked.

Yes, sir.

I don't think I've ever had a girl want to be in shop. He shrugged, glancing at the papers in his hands. Has your father or anyone showed you anything about this kind of thing?

A couple of the boys chuckled again. Obviously, Mr. Long hadn't heard about her. Her gaze shifted from the teacher and locked on the sexy hazel eyes of Jake. The skin between his eyebrows crinkled when he frowned.

Yes, sir. I help out a lot at home.

With what? I'm assuming you mean something besides baking and housework.

Embarrassment swept through her, heating her cheeks as she glanced at the floor. It wasn't normal for girls to want to work on cars, but Delaney did. She'd torn apart a carburetor by the time she'd hit age ten, completely rebuilding it for her father, all by reading a book.

No sir. I like working on engines. I want to learn more about rebuilding one.

Mr. Long laughed and her embarrassment deepened. You…want to learn about rebuilding an engine? Women don't work on cars, Delaney.

Well, I do and my name is Del. Everyone calls me Del. From that moment on, she'd hated Mr. Long. Luckily for her, he didn't last long.

I still think you're in the wrong class…Del. I'll be discussing this with your counselor later this afternoon. Until then, stand in the corner over there out of the way so you don't get hurt.

Several boys snickered and she shot them a scathing glance, but when she looked at Jake, the understanding in his eyes almost did her in. Kindred spirits—that's what they were.

After the class was over, she walked out with the boys to head for her locker. She knew what she wanted and she planned to get it, one way or another.

Sorry, Del. I know you want in the class, but it sounds like Mr. Long ain't gonna let you, Marty said, holding the door open.

It'll be okay, Marty. I'll learn like I've learned everything else. I'll find a manual and do it myself.

Jake walked by, glanced her way for a moment and she followed his stride with her gaze as he kept walking. Her budding female body reacted to his in ways she wasn't familiar with. She needed to talk to her mother or one of her older sisters. Oh, she knew about sex just like every other teenage girl. Every guy in high school had one thing on their minds—sex. Well, she wasn't interested. Or was she? Lately, she didn't know. Thoughts of Jake's lips on hers, of his arms holding her tight, of his body pressing hers down on a bed, seemed to occupy her mind more and more. It wasn't right. Jake's reputation for being a bad boy would put him out of any kind of acceptance for her family. Maybe talking to Rhonda would be better. She'd understand—hopefully.

The dinging of the bell indicating another customer brought Del back to the present and the work at hand. She needed to finish this job. There were a few more requiring her attention before she could quit for the day, sink into a tub of hot water with lots of bubbles and wash Jake Monroe from her mind.

Two hours later, she closed up the shop, locking the doors on her way out. Thank God this day is over. Her classic Ford pickup sat in the back of the gas station—the pride and joy of her high school years. Unfortunately, it was also a constant reminder of her mistakes with Jake.

She started the truck, popped it into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. Pickup trucks lined the road, some with stock trailers attached, others with bags of livestock feed or bales of hay. More trucks pulled into the local honky-tonk as the Friday crowd gathered to wet their whistle with a beer or two. Loud country music ebbed and flowed with the swing of the doors. She actually contemplated getting cleaned up and joining them, but decided against it. Red Rock, Montana didn't have a ton of choices for entertainment. The locals did what they had to do to spice up their lives, which included a bar fight or two.

The moment she cleared