Promises Reveal (48 page)

“There’s a hell of a lot more than that.”

She decided that he could tell her in bed.

Taking his hand, the calluses abrading her palm, reminding her how good that roughness felt against her skin, she backed toward the bed, tugging him along. She got to be in charge for three steps before he pulled her up against him, anchoring her with a hand at the small of her back.

“What are you doing?”

Reaching up, making sure to arch her back so he could enjoy the thrust of her breasts, she started pulling the pins from her hair. “You’re not much of a teacher if you don’t recognize when you’re being seduced.”

His grip loosened. She danced back the remaining four steps. Scared, exilherated, sick to her stomach with the possibility of rejection, she challenged him, tempted him, lured him into taking the last two steps to the bed before falling backward. He caught her with those lightning reflexes, holding her by the hands, keeping her arched and suspended just above the mattress. Her bun unraveled under the weight of gravity. She shook her head and let her hair tumble around her the way he liked.

He tugged her up just a bit and his gaze met hers. Beneath the cold facade she could see the fear of a boy who’d been taught nothing good was ever meant for him. “Be sure, Evie.”

She didn’t flinch. “I love you, Brad Swanson, probably since the first moment I laid eyes on you. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. How you feel about me is what seems to be in doubt.”

He let her go. There was a momentary sensation of tumbling before the mattress cushioned her fall. Brad followed her down. Catching his weight on his forearms, he lowered his forehead to hers. “You know damn well I love you.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

When he looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, she shrugged. “It shouldn’t shock you that I’ve never considered myself particularly lovable.”

“That’s because you’re a nut.”

“But you love me anyway.”

With every damn breath in his body, and it was never going to stop, Brad knew. And it scared him. Because it was good. Gently, carefully, she slid her hands around his neck and stroked lightly, holding him to her. “Want proof?”

She cuddled her hips to his in blatant invitation. “Yes.”

The laughter caught him by surprise, though it shouldn’t have. He had in his hands the one miracle of his life—the only woman he could ever love. He might never get over the miracle of her loving him back. Not the man he showed the world, but the man behind the mask. Not only that, she loved him enough to give him a second chance. From here on out, every morning was going to start with a prayer of thanks. For bringing him here, for sparing her life. He kissed her temple, relishing the pulse that beat against his lips before moving on to gently kiss the bruise on her jaw. “Fair warning, it’s going to take me a hell of a long time to forget the sight of you running headlong into a hail of bullets.”

“If you hadn’t been standing in the open like a sitting duck, I wouldn’t have had to come rescue you.”

She called that a rescue? “I was the distraction, so Elijah and Jackson could pick off the men holding you and Nidia hostage.”

“What would’ve happened if they’d missed?”

“They never miss.”

“It was still a terrible risk you took.”

“It was a calculated one.”

She slapped his shoulder and said, “Well, don’t do it again.”

“Then stay where I put you.”

She huffed, and that tantalizing mouth of hers drew up in a pout. He could easily imagine her lips moving over his torso and lower in soft presses of flame while he unbuttoned her blouse and exposed her equally tantalizing breasts.

“Then you’ll need to make it worth my while.”

The challenge caught on the edge of his desire, taunting it. “I’ll work on it. Anything else?”

As if reading his thoughts, her attention turned to the first button. It slipped free of its slot.

“Actually there is.” The second button put up no more fight than the first. “I need you to tell me you want me.”

Before he could tell her she was crazy, she placed her palm over his mouth. “Not physically, but the forever kind. The kind that means you’d marry me again, not because you had to, but because you wanted to.”

The whole length of the speech, her other hand was busy working those buttons free of their holes, revealing intriguing bits of lace and then a hint of cleavage. Heaven.

“There is no penalty if you don’t want that,” she continued, her speech picking up speed. “I’ll never tell anyone who you are, so you can walk way with no consequences.”

Just leave the other half of his soul behind. Cupping his hand around hers, Brad pressed her palm into his kiss. “I don’t want to walk away.”

She blinked. A tear rolled down her cheek. He caught it on his fingertip, interrupting its journey. How could she doubt how much he wanted her? If he could, he’d bind her to his side so she’d never be out of his sight, always be under his protection, always be safe.

Parting the lapels of her shirt with one finger, he traced the edge of her camisole. “I love you, baby. More than I could ever convey.”

“Good, because I do have a couple more terms.”

He watched the flush color her torso.

“Name them.”

“I don’t want to live here. I realize we might not be able to afford to live elsewhere for a while, but I need to know we’ll have a home of our own that suits us.”

He already had that covered. He’d started arrangements the day after Evie had said how much she hated the house. “Agreed.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “You agreed to that awfully quick.”

Since she seemed to have forgotten about the buttons, he took over for her. “I’m inspired. Next.”

“You can’t leave me at night without telling me where you’re going, no matter how pretty you think I am when I’m sleeping.”

He smiled. “Done.”

“You have to keep your promise to help those weaker. Especially women like Nidia.”

He spread her shirt off her shoulders, revealing the pink of her corset and the white of her camisole beneath. Pink and white were fast becoming his favorite colors. “Nidia won’t take help, even if you offer it to her.”

Evie ducked his gaze.

He sighed and pulled the ribbon free of the camisole, sliding it across Evie’s chest, smiling at the rise of her blush. “What?”

“I kind of made her promise.”

“What kind of promise?”

“She saved my life in that alley. In return I told her at any time she could come to you and me and ask for anything and it would be granted.”

He didn’t have a problem with that. Evie was his world. Nidia could have anything she wanted whenever she wanted it. “Done.”

The ribbon spilled down her chest and over her nipple. Even though there was no way she could feel the contact through her camisole, Evie shivered and her nipple puckered. His cock jerked with the same enthusiasm. She had very pretty breasts, sensitive, perfect for loving. “What else?”

“I want to live in Cattle Crossing.”

Now that was a surprise. He looked up. “I was thinking of taking you to Paris.”

She was shaking her head before he finished. “Maybe for a vacation, but this is home. I want our children to live here.
I
want to live here.”

It was his home, too. At first
home
had been a hard concept to wrap his mind around, but he was rather attached to it now. “Done.”

“Which brings me to the next thing. And this is a big one.” Her flush deepened. “I don’t want you to . . . keep yourself from me anymore.”

He had to think on her meaning and when he did, his balls pulled up tight. “You want me to come in you?”

Her breath caught, and she licked her lips. For a second, her gaze became unfocused, as if she were imagining it. “Is it really bad of me to say . . . a lot?”

After this, she’d be lucky if he didn’t keep her constantly full. Skimming his fingertips up her side, he smiled ruefully. “Not from where I’m sitting.”

She turned her breast into his palm, teasing him the way she always did with that smile and bold spirit of adventure. “Good.”

He flicked her nipple with his thumb, taking advantage of her subsequent arch to slide his hand beneath her shoulder blades and pull her up into his kiss. “Anything else?”

“No.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth, nibbled the bow of her upper lip. “Then open your mouth, Evie darling. Take me, my kiss, my promise, my love.”

Tears dripped down her cheeks, but Brad wasn’t worried. Those were what Jenna called happy tears.

“For how long?” she breathed, pulling him closer.

The petal-soft silk of her sheath closed around him, accepting him, welcoming him, inviting him deeper. Into her body, into her love, into her life. This was his woman, the gift he never thought would be his. The woman that understood him, fit him, was perfect for him. The woman who could have anyone she wanted, but who’d chosen him. He could never be close enough. “Forever, Evie. I’ll love you forever.”

THREE MONTHS LATER, Evie stood on the porch of her new home waiting for Brad to come in from settling the horses. They’d bought Elijah and Amy’s old place with Elijah’s blessing. Though Elijah had said to burn the belongings, Evie had packed them away. All except the hope for the future. Evie liked to think that stayed. Their old house was now a home for women in need. Ruth had moved in, helping the women settle, giving them a motherly figure to look up to and stories about her grand love to give them hope. She seemed to enjoy the job.

Dorothy, Pearl, and Millicent taught the women skills they’d need to survive—cooking, sewing, nursing. Elijah provided protection. Which was a good thing, because a lot of men refused to believe they weren’t welcome to come sneaking around the back door.

The barn door swung open and Brad stepped out, dressed in his usual black. She waved. He smiled and nodded. He smiled a lot more lately. Genuine smiles. The only issue left over from his childhood was Brad’s worry about what kind of father he’d be. Evie shook her head. He would be wonderful, but that was something Brad was going to have to prove to himself, and she could let him. Just like he’d let her prove to herself that she was lovable.

A wind kicked up. She pulled her wrap about her, warding off the chill of fall. She’d finally talked to her mother about her father. It hadn’t been a comfortable conversation, and in the end, the explanation for her father’s withdrawal was so simple. Thanks to a rough spot in their marriage during which her father had worried her mother had been unfaithful, he’d started doubting everything, including whether Evie was his. Unfortunately, since he couldn’t look at her and not think that she might not be his, he’d just stopped looking at her. Pearl was convinced he would’ve come around if he had had the time. Evie wanted to believe that, too, so she was trying. Sometimes the way to make things happen was just to believe that they would.

“I waited for you.”

Brad climbed the porch steps, his gaze shadowed by the brim of his hat. As he scooped her up in his arms, she plucked the hat off his head. She wanted to see the love in his eyes.

“So you did.”

She looped her arms around his neck. “What do I get for my reward?”

He stepped over the threshold into the house. “Me.”

“Perfect.” Pulling herself up, she kissed his chin. “I’ve got something for you, too.”

“What is it?”

“Carry me to the bedroom and see.”

His hair fell over his forehead and he smiled that rakish smile. “I can already tell I’m going to like this present.”

Yes, he was. When he put her down just inside the bedroom, she pointed to the floor. “Stay right there.”

Reaching around behind the door, she pulled out a sheet-draped painting. “Open it.”

He did, with the efficiency that marked everything he did. He stared at the painting of himself naked, rendered just as precisely as before but with one . . .
big
difference. When another few seconds passed and he didn’t speak, she wondered if she’d gone too far.

And then he laughed—a real laugh. The kind he was indulging in more and more often. He hooked his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “I don’t even want to know where you got that idea.”

“The barn can be a wonderful source of inspiration.”

“The hell you say. Now I’ve got to wonder about the competition.”

“You could do that or . . .” Stepping away, she unbuttoned her dress and let it fall to the floor. She was only wearing a sheer camisole and stockings beneath. She climbed into the middle of the big bed while he watched her with an intensity that stroked over her nerves with the tease of a touch. “Or you could make me forget all about it.”

His boots came off, first the right and then the left. “Did you forget your mother’s coming over, expecting stew and biscuits in a couple of hours?”