Return to Marker Ranch (19 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

L
ORI
WASN
'
T
USED
to second-guessing herself. Once she'd thought something through, once she'd made up her mind to do something, she did it. But that didn't stop her from feeling nervous. What if it was awkward? What if it was bad? What if they regretted it? What if there were disastrous consequences, like the first time they'd been together years ago?

But every time she looked over and caught Wade watching her, that same hot desire came back that she'd felt when they were dancing, and when he was holding up tiny baby clothes for the ladies of Benson to buy. And it seemed like she wouldn't be able to do much else, wouldn't be able to think straight, until she got the chance to make love to him.

The aspen tree trunks glowed stark white in the shaded woods. They were almost magical, with the occasional golden leaf wafting down from the fall-jubilant trees. It was so quiet... The creek wasn't running. She felt like she'd stepped into another world after their busy morning at the festival. The perfect place for Wade, where there was peace and stillness.

Then she saw the bed he'd made. The sweetness of it, the rightness of what they were about to do, hit home. She wanted this. And any fears she had because of their history were just that. Fears. It was possible they would come true. But probably not. Because all that was in the past, and something deep inside her believed in this new connection with him. And wanted, more than anything, this chance to honor it.

He pulled her toward him, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. Buried his face in her hair as if he was breathing her in. She pulled him as close as she could and pressed her cheek to his chest. He smelled faintly spicy.

“This has been a dream of mine for a long time. But now that it's here, I'm so scared I'll mess it up,” he murmured.

“I'm nervous, too,” she confessed. “But I want this.”

He kissed her, ran his fingers through her hair and she felt his shuddering sigh on her mouth. “Me, too.”

He kissed her again. She opened her mouth to taste him, to devour him, because suddenly she was ravenous for him. For his mouth crushing hers, for heat and weight, for his strong body and vulnerable spirit. She clung to him, kissing him wildly and pulling at him so he caught her around the back and brought them both down to the blankets.

Leaning away, he kept eye contact, his dark eyes narrowed and intense, his breathing rough as he yanked back the aspen-spangled blankets and lay her down on a soft flannel sheet. She kicked off her boots and tossed them to the side, smiling as he set his down carefully, tidy as always.

She went up on her knees and took his jaw in her hands, kissing him boldly before sitting back on her heels and tugging her thin sweater over her head. It was one of the boldest things she'd ever done with a man, but she forced herself to meet his eyes, to own it. If he saw fear in her, he'd back off. She didn't think she could stand it if he did. He stared at her breasts, touched a finger to the satin of her bra. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

He rose on his knees, kissing her mouth reverently, his fingers soft along her jaw and neck. Then he reached for the back of his T-shirt, yanking it over his head with one hand while the other reached for her shoulder. Pulling her close, he kissed her again. One arm, hard with muscle, slid to band around her back, offering support. His other hand cupped her breast. Just that intimacy had her gasping, grabbing his shoulders, glad for his arm holding her up. “Wade,” she breathed.

“Is it too much?” he murmured, his thumb finding her nipple through the satin of her bra and circling gently.

“It's... I don't know. Just kiss me,” she pleaded, and he did, lowering her carefully to the ground with his mouth on hers, pulling the soft blankets over them. She opened her eyes to see him framed in a golden halo of aspen. He pulled back, supporting his weight so he didn't crush her, one thumb tracing her cheekbones, her mouth.

“I can't believe you're here with me,” he murmured, and she watched him watch his fingers tracing the outline of her lips, a faint smile on his. “I love you, Lori. I think I always have.”

She stared up at him. It was a big confession, but he seemed untroubled, like he'd just reported the weather or something. His fingers were in her hair now, his expression calm and happier than she'd ever seen it.

No one had ever told her that before. Should she say it back? She felt a flash of panic. What was the right thing to do? Then she remembered. She wasn't trying to do everything right anymore. She was trying to do what was right for her. She brought his head down and kissed him deeply, ran her fingers through his short, sleek hair. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear and then pulled him in to lie across her so she could hold him close.

She looked up at the aspen with a quick prayer of thanks. He was here, with her. Loving her. A slow, warm feeling came over her. A feeling she didn't recognize at first. A strange, sure confidence that everything was going to be okay.

He kissed her neck, moving slowly along her jaw, sending sensation down to her toes. When he came back to her mouth, she held him there and it was more heated, more urgent. She pulled him closer, running her tongue over his, relishing the way he pressed himself against her, a low groan escaping from deep in his throat.

He slid to one side of her, propped himself on an elbow and hauled the blankets up to make sure she was warm. Then he used that free hand to caress her breast again. He slid his broad palm across her stomach, making the muscles there shudder. She tried to take his beauty in, his sculpted chest and rock-hard abs, tracking the contours with her knuckles, following them down to his belt.

“Can we take off our jeans?” he asked hoarsely.

She swallowed hard. There was something so sexy about that. Like they were those adolescents again, but this time they knew how to be careful with each other. “Yes, please,” she murmured. He pushed away but made no move to remove his own, just stared, transfixed, as she undid the top button on hers and slid the zipper down.

Watching him watch her undress was more erotic than any touch. He bit down on his lower lip just a little, glanced at her face with a smile that had a glimmer of nerves in it. Then she tucked her thumbs under the waistband and shifted a little to get the fabric over her hips. His eyes swiveled down, his gaze locked on to her every move. She had a moment of fervent gratitude that she'd worn her black underwear with the lace trim rather than the silly cowgirl print ones she'd considered this morning.

She slid her jeans down to her knees and brought her knees up to get them off altogether, but his hand stopped her with fingers tracing lines up her thighs to hook into the hem of her panties. “These, too?” he asked.

But then he seemed to get distracted by the silken fabric. His fingers kept traveling over the front of them to stop just above her most sensitive spot. Heat pooled in sensuous contrast to the cooling afternoon air, and she thought she might lose her mind if he kept pressing there so gently.

“Hang on,” she gasped, kicking her jeans off. She dove back under the blankets, sliding her underwear down as well. “Your turn.” She shot him a grin that seemed to get him out of his trance, and with the same economical movements he used for everything, he shucked his jeans and was naked with her in their woodland bed.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she was grateful when he pulled her over him and just held her along his body, letting her get used to his bulk, his unfamiliar combination of softest skin and hardest muscle. But neither of them could be still long, especially skin to skin like this. He reached behind and unhooked her bra so it fell open and her breasts spilled out. He shot her a smile that was some mind-melting combination of joy and desire. “I love this,” he whispered. His hands came down her back, over her butt, reaching around and under until all she was aware of was his fingers slicked in her wetness, and her pressing against them like a wild thing until she came right there on his hand. She collapsed against his chest, feeling so thin-skinned, so raw, like she'd laid her soul bare along with her body.

“I've got you,” he whispered, cradling her against his chest. “I've got you always.” She tried to breathe, tried to be still with him, but she couldn't. She wanted too much from him. She wanted him to risk, to trust her. So she slid up onto her hands and knees over him and kissed him full on the mouth, needing him to fall apart like she just had. With her raised up like this, he could fill his hands with her breasts, and he did with a hoarse groan. Then he slid one hand down and over her belly, seeking to please her.

She wasn't ready to be so out of control again. She moved away, propped herself up on her elbow so she could run her free hand over his chest, the lines of his abs, stopping just short of where his erection stood. But it was enough to get him thinking of his own pleasure. He rolled her onto her back, his eyes locking on hers. She laced her fingers around his neck and kissed him. His hand came down to find the heat between her legs. “Please?” she gasped, and his hand left her to rummage in the pocket of his jeans.

He handed her a condom. “Would you open this?”

Her hands were shaking when she tore the wrapper, trying not to think about how much she wished they'd used one of these the first time they'd been together. But the thought was there. He knew it, too, and he stopped her hands and took the condom from her. “We should have,” he said quietly, caressing the hair back from her forehead. “And we didn't. We were incredibly careless. But I can't regret touching you back then. I can't regret holding you or being inside you. You showed me what it was like to be with someone I loved. And I've held that in my heart ever since, wanting to have something like that again. I just never thought I'd be so lucky that I'd get to have it again with you.”

Tears came to her eyes. The mistakes they'd made blended into the love that neither of them had been able to let go of.

He ran his thumb down her cheek, following the track of a tear. “I want you so much. But I don't want to make you cry.”

“They're good tears,” she whispered, and reached up to kiss him softly on the mouth. He pulled back, and she saw a suspicious wateriness in his eyes as well.

“You have no idea how grateful I am for you. You've been my light for so long.” He kissed her again and then brought his mouth to her ear, her throat, making her squirm under his lips. Her hands traveled restlessly over the bunched muscles of his back, his shoulders, his arms and she wondered how she'd ever get enough of him. She felt a movement as he rolled the condom on, and then he was over her, inside her, filling all of her aching want. His skin was hot. She'd been a little chilled but now she warmed, heated, until she was clawing at him, her desire for him burning away all the old regret and shame, and branding something new and breathtaking on her soul.

She cried out softly as she came again, fists digging into the muscles of his back to ground her, to release the torment she'd felt over him for so long, to welcome this new thing. And then, as if he'd barely been holding back for her, his fingers wound into her hair, and he pushed deep inside her with her name on his breath like a prayer. She clung to him as he shook, trying to hold him steady, trying to be there for him, the way he was trying so hard to be there for her.

He kissed her throat, her cheek, her mouth, and there was a tear coursing down his cheek. “You astound me,” he whispered as she brushed it away with her knuckle.

He pulled her close and wrapped them both up in the blankets. Lori lay with her head on his chest. A breeze was picking up, and an aspen leaf sailed down and landed on her forehead. She giggled and handed it to Wade, who ran it softly over her cheek, tickling her, making her laugh even more.

He kissed her hair and turned toward her, so she did the same, lying on her side, facing him. He put the leaf in her fingers and ran his through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “Lori, I love you. What we just did just now? It meant everything to me.”

She trailed the leaf idly over his forearm and along his chest, wondering if there'd ever been a more perfect moment. How often in life did you get to do exactly what you wanted and feel healed in the process? How often did you get to hear all the words you'd always longed to hear? “I am so happy,” she told him.

He swallowed hard, but his gaze never wavered. Something in his look had her pulse picking up the pace. “I want us to be like this together forever. I want you to marry me.”

She stared at him, trying to absorb the unexpected.

“Marry me, Lori. We both know that's where we're going. Let's go there now.”

He didn't
look
crazy. She studied him a little more carefully, searching for signs of stress. But he looked earnest. Happy. In love.
Holy cow, he means it.
“Wade, it's too soon.”

“It's not. Please, hear me out. When we were young, we slept together, and afterward I let you down in every way. Now we've found each other again and I want to show you that I've changed. I'll never let you down like that again.”

All the shiny newness of making love to him, the fresh-start, new-day sparkle, faded. Because he was making this about what had happened before. Dragging them back to that place and that time she'd only recently felt she was finally leaving. She was cold suddenly and sat up, reaching for her bra and her shirt.

“Lori?” Wade sat up, too. “What's wrong? What did I say?”

Tears were starting, along with a sort of depressed sourness in her throat. Like the tenuous hope they'd been building was disintegrating before her eyes, blowing away with the aspen leaves in the afternoon wind. She took a deep breath, wondering what to say. “You are nice to ask me.”