Ginger's Heart (a modern fairytale) (43 page)

He closed his eyes and pictured Josiah’s face as a freckled little kid—as Cain’s first playmate, his best friend in kindergarten, at family birthdays and summer picnics. Josiah’s blond hair shining in the sun and moss-green eyes crinkled with laughter, and there was Ginger in his memories too—pudgy little Ginger wearing a daisy crown on her white-blonde hair, holding tightly to the cousins’ hands as they ran through meadows together.

For as long as he lived, Cain would miss Woodman.

For as long as he lived, Cain would be good to, and care for, and love Ginger.

Not because he’d promised Woodman, but because loving Ginger was so deeply ingrained into the fiber of Cain. If he concentrated hard, he could still feel those chubby fingers holding fast to his.

But he would be forever grateful to Woodman for finally letting him know that
his
time to love her had finally come—that he was worthy of her.

Tightening his arm underneath her breasts and bending his knees into hers, he matched their breathing, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

Ginger had been in love with Cain for a long time, but there was a precious, inconceivable dreaminess to knowing that her love was wholly and utterly reciprocated. They’d spent Saturday morning in bed, making love, before Cain took her out for a giant breakfast at a local diner, and then to Bed Bath & Beyond, where he asked for her advice in choosing curtains for his living room and a new comforter for his bed.

These were mundane activities—sitting across from one another in a diner booth and shopping for home goods—that millions of couples around the world were engaged in, but for Ginger, who’d waited her whole life to belong to Cain, and whose terrible guilt over loving Cain had finally been lifted, she could barely contain her happiness.

He reached for her easily, holding her hand, placing his palm in the small of her back or dropping a tender kiss to her temple as she held up a chocolate-brown blanket that matched the new tan comforter perfectly. There was an easiness between them, born of a lifelong friendship, and a heat, born of their newfound love, and the combination made her giddy.

Saturday afternoon he showed her around his townhouse complex, and she watched the proud expression on his face, in his eyes, as he pointed out the pond and the pool and asked if she was any good at tennis. She wasn’t, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was realizing that he’d grown into a responsible and self-reliant man who wasn’t just giving her a tour of his community but—in every glance, in the subtext of every word—offering it to her, to share it with her when and if she was ever ready to give him that chance.

And the thing is? For all that she hadn’t been ready, ever, to marry Woodman, thoughts of marrying Cain flooded her mind with anticipation and excitement. She couldn’t wait to hold his hand and leap into forever.

On Sunday he offered to drive her to church, but she declined. She imagined the pain in Miz Sophie’s eyes to see her nephew slipping into the shoes of her son, and she knew that compassion and discretion was the right path for them, no matter how impatient Cain felt about declaring their status to the world.

They both felt the quiet melancholy of Sunday afternoon as the sun set and evening approached, knowing that their perfect weekend was almost over. After kissing good-bye for almost an hour by the driver’s side of her car, their hands reaching for each other, their bodies aching for more, Ginger finally wrenched herself away and cried the whole way back to Apple Valley, bereft at leaving Cain behind for even a day.

Which made her drive back down to Versailles on Tuesday morning all the sweeter. Unable to bear their separation any longer, she’d left McHuid’s at ten thirty, texting Cain that she was on her way. When she arrived, he was waiting in the garage bay, his jeans slung low, his long-sleeved T-shirt hugging his muscular chest, his eyes—dusky blue and clear—fixed on her through the windshield of her car as she parked, cut the engine, sprang from the car, and ran to his arms.

He lifted her easily, and she locked her ankles around his waist, their lips fusing into a desperate kiss as he carried her inside.

“I need you,” he growled, kicking the office door closed with his foot. “Christ, I missed you, princess.”

She pressed kisses to his smooth jaw, to his cheeks, to his eyelids and lips.

“Me too,” she gasped, her panties soaked, her body clenched with readiness.

“I can’t go slow,” said Cain, setting her down in front of the desk. He used his arm to swipe everything—including their laptops and the phone console—to the side, then turned her around, facing the desk. “Lean over.”

She pulled her maxi dress up to her waist, yanked her panties down to her knees, and bent over the desk with her forearms flat and her forehead down. Behind her, she heard his zipper open with a quick
fffft
and the sound of his jeans being pushed down. She gasped as his erection pressed against the wet, sensitive folds of her sex and cried out when he grabbed her hips and thrust into her completely with one smooth stroke.

“Ahhh,” he panted, buried deeply inside her, leaning over her back, his shirt pressed against the bunched-up jersey of her dress.

Ginger lay her cheek against the cool, slick wood of the desk and closed her eyes in gratitude and relief.

He pushed her hair aside and pressed his lips to her neck, still motionless within her, though he throbbed like a heartbeat. Her sensitive flesh felt every pulse as he swelled inside her, stretching her to fit him.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed breathlessly.

“Don’t be,” she murmured. “I needed this too.”

“What do you need, baby?” he asked, his tongue darting out to lick her neck as his hands slid between the desk and her dress to massage her breasts.

She whimpered, pressing her ass back against him. “More.”

Withdrawing slowly, Cain thrust forward again, and Ginger moaned loudly. “More.”

Winding her hair in his hand, Cain pulled, firmly but gently, as he withdrew from her, then slammed forward again.

“Oh my God,” she moaned. “Again.”

His other arm looped around her waist, and he pulled her up off the desk a fraction of an inch. “Hold on, Gin.”

She flattened her palms on the desk, and he pumped into her again, but his arm skated lower until he could slip his hand into the slick, vibrating folds of her clit. His middle finger, coarse and hot, found the sensitive bud of flesh and circled it as he pulled on her hair and thrust greedily inside her again.

“I want you to scream my name,” he growled. “I want you to scream my name when you come, princess.”

She nodded, barely able to make words, her body so tight, aching so terribly with her need for release. She only managed a weak, “Okay.”

“You ready for me?”

“
Please
,” she begged him.

The pad of his finger pressed directly on her clit, rubbing as he thrust into her, faster and faster, her orgasm building to such a massive, almost excruciating pitch, she stopped breathing and her forehead hit the desk just as her body buckled with convulsions and she heard “Cain!” ripped from her throat.

“Ah! Princess!” he groaned, sliding his hands to her hips and holding her in place as he withdrew all the way from her body, then thrust into her with such force, she felt his cock touch her womb and explode with the power of his climax, hot and wet, pumping into her rhythmically until she realized that she was lying on the desk and he was lying on her back.

She was boneless.

She was barely alive.

She was satisfied.

“Mmm,” she murmured, feeling her heartbeat in her temples and ears, and his against her back in strong, rapid beats.

“Are you okay?” he panted close to her ear.

“Oh my God,” she said. “I had no idea . . .”

“That it could be like this?”

“That I could want it so bad,” she confessed as her breathing finally started returning to normal. “That I could love it so much.”

He chuckled, gently withdrawing from her body. Placing an arm under her waist, he pulled her back against him as he sank into a guest chair, holding her on his lap. Her head was on his shoulder, her feet were draped over the arm, and Cain looked down at her, his blue eyes shining with love.

“Hello, girlfriend.”

“Hello, lover,” she said, grinning up at him, loving the softness in his chiseled face, knowing that she was the one who put it there.

“Happy Tuesday.”

“So far, so good,” she said.

He leaned down and kissed her lips tenderly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Move in with me,” he said, searching her eyes.

She chortled, then sobered when she realized he wasn’t kidding. “Cain. We’ve been dating for five minutes.”

“We’ve known each other for over two decades and been in love for at least one.”

“Woodman died in the fall. It’s only winter.”

“He wanted us to be together.”

She dropped his hopeful eyes, adjusting her dress over her lap.

“Ginger?” he prompted.

She took a deep breath before meeting his gaze. “I’m not ready yet.”

His lip twitched to the side with disappointment, and his grin faded, but he nodded in acceptance.

“But I will be,” she said. “Soon.”

He shrugged, giving her a small smile. “Can’t blame me for tryin’.”

“Don’t stop,” she said, adjusting her legs on his lap and feeling the evidence of their lovemaking between her thighs. “I need to get cleaned up.”

He held her tighter. “Not yet. Tell me about your gran.”

She sighed, laying her head back on his shoulder. “Same. Fadin’.”

“You saw her yesterday?”

Ginger nodded, sorrow filling her heart. “She doesn’t know me anymore. She called me Amy the whole time.”

“Your aunt.”

“I didn’t know her. She died before I was born.”

“Maybe it’s not such a bad thing,” said Cain gently, his hand stroking her bare arm.

“How do you mean?”

“I imagine losin’ a child is the worst thing that can happen to someone . . . but now? Her Amy’s back. She can see her and talk to her, and . . .” He shrugged, looking sad. “. . . maybe it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

This hadn’t really occurred to Ginger, but she felt an odd comfort in it, that her Gran was passing, little by little, from this world to a place where she could be together with her baby girl forever.

“You believe in heaven, Cain?”

“Do you?”

She nodded. “I do. Yes.”

“Then I do too,” he said. “Because if you’re goin’ there, I’m goin’ to go there too.”

She leaned up, cupped his cheeks, and looked into his eyes. “You always goin’ to be this sweet to me?”

He reached for her hair, gently tucking the loose strands behind her ears. “As long as you let me, darlin’.”

“How ’bout forever?”

He grinned. “You stakin’ a claim, Miss Virginia Laire?”

“On you?” she grinned, nodding her head. “You better believe it.”

His smile got wider and wider, until it turned into a laugh—a truly joyful sound that filled the room and filled her heart and filled her soul so full of Cain Wolfram that she knew for certain that whatever had ever been broken was whole, and that, as long as he was beside her, it would never break again.

***

Leaving for Navy Reserve training on Wednesday morning was the last thing Cain felt like doing, especially because Ginger had stayed overnight and he woke up with their feet tangled together, staring at her lovely face fast asleep. Groaning with self-pity, he rolled his naked body to the edge of the bed and left her as quietly as possible to get in the shower.

After this month, he’d need to attend Reserves training only one night a month, but he had deferred his December service because of Woodman’s passing, which meant that he needed to make up two more days in January. He hadn’t seen any reason not to make them up now, but as he came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, he stared at the beautiful girl asleep in his bed and had a pang of regret. He didn’t want to leave her. Especially not for three nights.

Squatting by the bed, he blew softly on her cheek. Reflexively, she swiped at her face with the back of her hand, and Cain did it again, watching her eyes flutter open.

“Cain?” she said, rolling onto her back and sighing. “What time is it?”

“I gotta go soon.”

She opened one eye. “Wish you didn’t have to.”

“Me too.”

She reached out her hand as her eyes closed and her voice got dreamy. “Get back in bed with me for a few more minutes.”

And fuck, he was tempted, but he shook his head, stood up, then bent over to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m goin’ to get dressed and leave as quietly as possible. Stay as long as you want, okay?”

She nodded, curling onto her side and falling back to sleep.

He did PT upon arrival, at 0700, followed by a shower. And now he was hanging out until formation at 1100, doing nothing but missing her. And since the afternoon would be busy with classes and other busywork, he took his phone out of his hip pocket.

CW: Sure was hard to leave you this morning, baby.

He stared at the message for a moment before slipping the phone back into his pocket, surprised when it buzzed almost immediately. He whipped it back out, looking down at the screen.

The Princess: I barely remember saying good-bye. Glad you got there okay. Saturday seems like a long way away.

He grinned at the phone.

CW: I’ll come to you on Saturday night and stay at your place.

The Princess
:
Okay. What time?

CW: Suppertime.

The Princess: I’ll have frozen pizza waiting.

He chuckled at her sass, then typed.

CW: Miss me?

The Princess: I do.

CW: Move in with me.

The Princess: Soon.