Your'e Still the One (11 page)

Trailing the path he left behind by a humbling distance, she fought her way to the cabin, simply happy to keep the huffing and puffing down to a minimum.

“Are you all right?”

Smiling sweetly, she said, “Peachy.”

He retraced his steps, meeting her partway, then scooped her into his arms.

Laughing, rather than taste the bitterness of her dissolving pride, she said. “This is just mean.”

“I’m being mean?”

She looped her arms around his neck, careful not to knock off his hat as he carried her to the cabin where he’d cleared away the snow. “I could’ve made it on my own.”

“Sweetheart, you will always make it on your own,” he said, a strange tone to his voice.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She wasn’t joking. He’d almost sounded disappointed.

“No, it’s not. You’ve always been strong and independent, and I’m glad you haven’t changed.” He smiled, but he seemed just a little sad. Maybe it wasn’t about her or them, but his father. “Grab my hat.”

She caught the back brim just as he lowered his head and gave her an open-mouth kiss that stole what scant breath she had left. His tongue slowly swept inside, touched hers, then continued its exploration. He was in no hurry, more intent on doing a thorough job than moving on. She clung to him, soaking up his seductive heat, smelling the faint scent of soap and clean male flesh and feeling herself slowly melt into him.

Finally, she dragged her mouth away because she really was out of breath. “You can put me down now.”

“I want to keep you right here.” He held her tighter to his chest. “For a week, a month.” He kissed her hair and quietly murmured, “Forever.”

This wasn’t real. Not his words or the way he cradled her as if he truly didn’t want to let go. It was the grief talking. He needed someone safe to hold on to, someone who would hold him. He could deny it all he wanted, but he was affected by the confirmation his father was terminal. Maybe a less-sensitive man could ignore the blow, but not Matt.

“Let’s find a way inside,” she said, massaging his scalp below the hat.

He drew back, his closed eyes opening in degrees and reflecting the blue of the sky. His heart beat fast and hard against the side of her breast. “We’ll get in.”

She traced a fingertip over his bottom lip. “Or maybe that’s asking for trouble.”

His smile was slow and so damn sexy that her insides quivered. “I’m counting on it,” he said, and carefully let her slide down his body.

Even through the barrier of their layered clothing, she felt his arousal pressed against her belly, felt tiny jolts of electricity along her spine. “I hate this.”

“What?” he asked, concern in his eyes as he gently arranged her hair away from her face.

“Me living at the Sundance, you staying at the Lone Wolf. The whole no-privacy issue stinks.”

“Ah. Been thinking about that myself.” He kissed the side of her neck. “Kalispell isn’t far.”

“We can’t. Not today. I’m helping decorate for the dance.” She sighed at the featherlike feel of his lips heating her skin.

“No, not today. I have to talk to Nikki about Wallace. What about tonight after you’re done? Or tomorrow after the dance?”

“Definite possibilities.”

He briefly kissed her. “Wait here.”

“Where are you going?” Hugging herself, trying to ward off the cold void he’d left, she watched him head in the direction of the truck. Was he getting condoms?

Then she saw that he was only trying to avoid a large snowdrift and circle around to the back of the cabin. The wind had been blowing from the west so the rear was much clearer and more accessible. He was probably searching for that broken window.

She glanced around at the barren trees and pines in varying shades of green. Not the ideal spot for a ranch—too hilly—but the place would be beautiful with wildflowers and new leaves by mid-May. Such a shame the cabin was sitting vacant.

After what seemed like forever, Matt approached her from the other side so she knew he’d made it all the way around. Snow sat on his Stetson and shoulders, and he looked like a man who’d lost a small battle. Maybe it was just as well they couldn’t get inside. They’d already waited this long and she didn’t want their first time to be about him hiding from grief.

“Oh, well, we tried.” She dusted the snow off his shoulders. “There’s still Kalispell....”

He winked at her as he took her hand, leading her down the path he’d just made.

11

M
ATT
PRESENTED
THE
OPEN
window with a bow. “Did you really think I couldn’t get us inside? What little faith you have in me.” Nothing could be further from the truth. Rachel had been his rock, the persistent voice in his head telling him he could do anything he wanted, no matter how many times Wallace chipped away at his confidence.

She lifted up to brush her lips across his mouth. “You’re my hero.”

It was the other way around. But if he pointed it out, she’d only argue. He started to pull her in for a more satisfying kiss, but didn’t trust himself to stop. Knowing they were going to have some privacy was already getting him worked up. He gave her a quick hug, then searched the wood trim for splinters.

The cabin was well built with thick walls and insulated panes of glass. Matt was glad he hadn’t had to break in, but he suspected he might’ve warped the track while trying to loosen the jammed window. Easy enough to repair, and if not, he didn’t really give a crap. Especially when he turned back to Rachel shading her sparkling green eyes from the sun, her hair a brilliant auburn blaze tumbling over her shoulders. She looked beautiful. But she always did.

Stomping his foot, he made sure the snow was packed hard under his feet before he gave her a boost up to the window. He glanced down at his boots. His good Moraes boots. They weren’t trashed yet because the snow was dry and he kept shaking it off. But he’d had no business wearing them to come up here. This is what he got for being impulsive and tearing out of the house. No, for letting Wallace push his buttons.

“You ready?” he asked, interlocking his fingers.

“I think I can climb up on my own.”

“I’m sure you can. But would you let me help you?” This was so Rachel. Never giving up, never asking for help, no matter how high the odds against her. Since she was a kid she’d been a ball of energy, always moving forward, trying with her last breath to reach her goal.

“Yes,” she said, her smile unexpectedly shy. “Thank you.”

He lowered his hands, and she stepped one foot into them. She heaved herself up to the window and briefly perched on the ledge, drawing her knees up to her chest. Carefully she swung around and let herself inside.

“There’s furniture in here,” she said, sticking her head out the window. “I’m not sure what...everything is covered with sheets. Here.” She offered her hand.

“It’s better if you just stand clear.”

She moved back, and he hoisted himself up.

The interior of the cabin was warmer than he expected so he figured it was worth trying to close the window again. It stuck twice and wouldn’t go down all the way, but close enough.

“Did you know this stuff was here?” Rachel walked through the living room, peeking under the sheets.

“I vaguely recall my mom saying that some of the rooms were left intact.” He glanced around, saw that even an old piano remained in the corner, and a coat tree stood near the front door.

“This couch is in good shape. So are the chairs.”

He was more interested in the couch and started to yank off the sheet.

“Wait.” Rachel’s warning was too late.

Dust particles fluttered through the air making them both cough. He cussed between coughing bouts, while she laughed.

“Really smooth,” she said, flapping a hand to clear the dust.

He caught her wrist, ignored her squeal of protest and pulled her toward him. When she realized he meant to kiss her, she quit fighting him and slid her arms around his neck. Her freezing hands were pressed to the skin under his jacket collar, but he didn’t care. He’d warm her up soon enough.

He kissed the corner of her mouth, felt her lips tremble. “You still cold? I’m not sure about using the fireplace but we can try.”

“No, let’s not risk it.” She tilted her head back to look at his face, while pressing her body into him. They really had to get rid of the bulky jackets. “Think we should look upstairs?”

“I believe the bedrooms are empty. I’ll go check.” He kissed her hard and quick, then resisted the urge to run up the stairs. No telling if they needed work.

But they felt solid under his boots and he used the time to get out of his jacket. After confirming all four bedrooms were without furniture, he returned to the living room. Rachel had rolled up the sheet from the couch and tucked it under the piano bench. She looked up and smiled.

“No luck upstairs.” Remembering his hat, he tossed it along with the jacket onto a chair near the fireplace.

“Oh, well, at least this is in good shape.” She pressed down on the brown-plaid seat cushion.

“Sure is ugly.”

“But no dust.”

“You need help with your jacket?” he asked, walking toward her.

She didn’t say anything, just watched him approach as she unzipped and pulled her arms free of the sleeves.

He was already getting hard, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Or seen what was under that black sweater. Didn’t matter really. He was alone with Rachel, and that’s what he’d wanted most. Part of him still couldn’t believe she was here in Blackfoot Falls. He’d imagined she would be anywhere but at the Sundance.

Her tongue slipped out to moisten her lips. He took the jacket from her and threw it at the chair. This was a moment he’d dreamed about—his desire for her had been years in the making.

Matt wrapped her in his arms and held her against his chest. She smelled so damn good. He’d always noticed a hint of vanilla around her, even when he’d been too horny and fueled by teenage hormones to care about the little things. Breathing her in, he hugged her tighter, then leaned back just enough to look at her face.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, her lips slightly parted. The sun shining through the window lit up her hair and was starting to warm her skin. Though he figured he might have something to do with that, too. She sure had that effect on him.

“What?” she said, her lips twitching. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“We’re finally alone. I have you in my arms. Why wouldn’t I be smiling?” He kissed her, sliding his hands down her back until he found the hem of her sweater.

Slowly, he lifted it, giving her a moment to process what he was about to do. She gave a small jerk, breaking the kiss.

“You okay?”

“Better than okay,” she said as her eyes drifted closed.

He skimmed his palm over her silky skin, let the tips of his fingers trail her delicate spine. He unfastened her bra, and cupped her bare breast. Her eyes opened and her warm breath whooshed out with a soft startled gasp that touched something inside of him. She’d known they were headed for this moment. The little minx had even baited him. But for all her new sophistication, in some ways, she was still that teenage girl testing boundaries in a sweet tangle of impatient determination and naïveté.

She’d hate the observation, deny it, tell him he was insane, he thought as he thumbed her taut nipple. The reality of what he was doing floored him. This was a first...he’d never touched her naked breasts before. Years ago, when they’d horsed around in Mill Creek, she’d worn a swimsuit. He’d wanted to slide his fingers beneath the fabric—God, how desperately he’d wanted to touch her—but he hadn’t dared.

He settled his lips on hers, then adjusted his head so he could seek all of her mouth. She accepted his exploration with a whispery sigh that made his heart pump faster and his cock leap.

Heat roared through him. His body tightened with need, and it took everything he had not to lay her on the couch, spread her legs and bury himself inside of her. He’d sworn he’d take things slow, make their first time together memorable, give their lovemaking the tenderness it deserved....

Moving his hand away from her breast, he gentled the kiss. But she wasn’t having that. She strained upward to keep their mouths joined. He had to act, or he wouldn’t be able to trust himself. He lifted his head out of her reach, and she stared up at him as if he’d just cut off her air supply.

“That last night,” Rachel said softly, and he met her eyes. “Remember I was going to sneak out and we were supposed to meet at the grove of aspens behind the calving shed...?”

He did all he could not to wince. Yeah, he remembered. It had been the painful night he’d left Blackfoot Falls.

“Earlier in the day I’d made up my mind that I was going to lose my virginity to you that night.”

“Ah, Rachel—”

“Shh, no.” She put a finger to his lips. “Don’t say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

With a heaviness in his chest, he wondered how long she’d waited for him out there in the cold. Wondered if he hadn’t climbed into his old truck, would he have tried to find comfort in her body? After that final explosive fight with Wallace, Matt might’ve gone against his own principles, taken what she offered. And he would’ve hated himself.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I told you to be quiet.” She pressed her body against his, pulling him into a kiss and urging the hand he held under her sweater back up to her breast.

Her beaded nipple teased his palm. He gently kneaded, learned the texture and feel of her, the pearled nub, the silky skin surrounding it. But that wasn’t enough—he wanted to look at her. Taste her.

She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her trembling hand inside, skimming his belly, grazing his nipple...touching the scars.

Matt drew back. The movement was subtle, but it wasn’t a reflex. He’d never done that with a woman before. Not that he was aware of, and the scarred flesh hadn’t made him particularly self-consciousness. Most of the wounds had healed well, and hell, they came with the territory.

He kept kissing her, hoping she hadn’t noticed his withdrawal. But she had. He could feel it in the subdued pressure of her lips, the tentativeness of her touch. Yet what did he expect? This was Rachel. Even after ten years, she still knew him. Better than most anyone else, he suspected.

“The scars don’t bother me,” she said. “If that worries you. I just hate that you were hurt.”

Staring into the heartfelt concern in her eyes brought him instant clarity. His reaction had everything to do with Rachel. He didn’t care about being marked, but he was ashamed of what some of the scars represented. Proof that Wallace’s blood flowed through his veins. Proof Matt had that same hot temper and mean streak if he didn’t keep himself in check. He’d been reckless those first years on his own, getting into bar fights, starting them when he was in a foul mood.

“Matt?” She cupped his face in her soft hands. “You want to talk?”

He slowly shook his head, pulled her wrists to her sides and lifted her sweater. She was so damn perfect he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop staring.

“Yes, I still have freckles,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, and lowered his head.

* * *

A
T
THE
BAREST
TOUCH
of his tongue on her nipple, Rachel nearly slid to the floor. If she didn’t get a grip, he would think she was still a virgin. He rolled his tongue over her other breast then brought his head up and claimed her mouth with a fierceness that pushed her over the edge of reason.

She fisted his hair but let him do whatever he wanted. And God, he wanted all of her. He couldn’t seem to settle in any one spot for long. His lips moved to her chin and jaw, and then the tender spot below her ear. Only when her sweater slipped down, did he lift his head.

“This has to go,” he said, his voice a rough rasp, his eyes like she’d never seen them before.

She’d always loved the mesmerizing light blue, but this midnight color really worked, too. In answer, she pulled up the hem and then let him lift the sweater off the rest of the way.

“You, too,” she ordered, and gestured when he reached for her.

Immediately he jerked the flannel shirt off his shoulders, but she knew the exact moment he remembered the scars. He wavered a second, blinked, then finished the task. His face, though, was completely unreadable, so unlike his younger version, and that made her ache.

She got rid of her bra, boots and jeans in a mad rush, leaving her in tiny blue panties, while he stripped down to black boxer briefs. She wanted to just stare at him, take in all the amazing changes that had transformed his body. But more than anything she longed to feel him. Now. He must have felt the same because before she could even blink he’d lifted her bride-style and put her on the couch. Without missing a beat, she pulled him down on top of her so he settled between the V of her legs.

He kissed her leisurely and thoroughly, their tongues swirling and mating, their pounding hearts ignoring the unhurried pace he’d tried to set. When he drew his palm down her naked back, she shivered, felt goose bumps surface.

“Cold?” he murmured against her mouth.

“Turned on.”

The next thing she knew he’d scooted down. After a quick kiss to her inner thigh, he tugged down her panties and pulled them off. He stood to get out of his boxers, and her breath caught. Sunlight shimmered off the smooth tanned skin of his chest and shoulders.

Her gaze followed as he peeled down his briefs, his erection so hard the head brushed his stomach. She swallowed, as she looked at him, amazed that all the times she’d imagined him naked, her imagination hadn’t been nearly enough.

With a groan that made her insides tight, he grabbed his jeans and searched out his wallet. Once he had the red packet in hand, he tossed the rest away and settled back down on the couch, kneeling between her thighs. “I’m almost afraid to touch you,” he said. “You’ve been a part of my dreams for so long, I don’t want to suddenly wake up.”

She arched up, resting on her elbows. “Come on down here and I’ll show you just how real I am.”

His smile made her melt, and the heat of his body on hers made her shiver. She found his mouth and they met and parted and met again, each time a new discovery.

She couldn’t stop her gasp when his hand slid up the inside of her thigh. She rose to meet him, and he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, two fingers slipping into the moist heat of her sex.