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Authors: Evelyn Adams

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BOOK: Riding the Pause
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Still, she’d have to find a place to live soon. She was a grown woman. It had made sense to come home to her parents when she lost her job, but it was time for her to figure out what came next and find a place of her own. She liked Ian’s place. She hadn’t seen inside, but the cabin suited him. It sat so far back into the woods she wasn’t sure she’d ever reach it. Her poor car barely cleared the ruts in gravel road better suited to Ian’s truck. The cabin was beautiful in its isolation and perfect for him. She almost opened her mouth to ask him how long he’d lived there, but she caught herself in time.

Got to stay still. Got. To. Stay. Still.

Why did it seem like it was so easy for Ian while her mind was racing around like a gerbil? People spent whole weekends meditating. They went on retreats and everything. Surely she could quiet her mind for one evening. Inhaling slowly, she counted her breath.

In two, three, four. Out two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

She breathed, trying to keep her shoulders down and let her breath expand her diaphragm. She was pretty sure she’d read somewhere that singers did that. She seemed to have the hang of this deep breathing thing. Maybe she could try singing. Get a job singing at the bar at the Holiday Inn out by the airport, dragging herself home at dawn smelling like smoke and stale beer, clutching her tip jar full of wrinkled ones.

She was rocking this breathing thing, why let a simple thing like the fact that she couldn’t carry a tune stop her from her new career path. She managed to stop herself before she rolled her eyes like a rebellious teenager.

Oh, for the love of God.

Tightening every muscle in her body so she wouldn’t scratch, twitch or roll her eyes, she shifted her gaze to Ian, praying he’d break down and wiggle something. He didn’t, but she could tell by the focus in his eyes that something had changed. Barely moving, he raised just his index finger from his bow and pointed to a spot further down the fence row. Rachel followed his gaze and saw a beautiful gray-brown doe step out of the shadows.

Ian waited until the deer was looking the other way before soundlessly rising from his seat, lifting and drawing the bow at the same time. He paused, his strong arms holding all the tension and potential energy of the bow and arrow in perfect balance. It was a beautiful thing to watch but so was the doe. Elegant, graceful on long delicate legs, she watched it move closer to their tree, gingerly picking its way through the brush between the fence row and the field.

When it was almost right below them and closer than she’d ever been to any other wild animal, Ian aimed at the doe’s side. Rachel braced herself not to react. Intellectually she understood what he was doing and why. She ate meat and she knew the damage deer could do to crops. But the doe was so beautiful and she wasn’t comfortable watching it die. She looked away and waited for him to loose the arrow, surprised when she felt him let down without taking the shot.

He touched her shoulder, and she followed his gaze to the ground in front of them. The doe had moved a few steps closer, but she didn’t understand why he hadn’t taken the shot until a small movement in the shadows caught her eye. Out stumbled two tiny spotted fawns. Rachel froze not even daring to breathe. She didn’t want to risk anything that would spook the doe and her babies. Feeling Ian, still and attentive, next to her, she watched the deer lift her head and scent the air. Obviously uneasy, the doe turned and ushered her brand new family back into the shadows.

Rachel waited for moments after they disappeared before letting out the breath she’d been holding and reaching for Ian’s hand. He’d barely had time to sit down before she leaned over to wrap her arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her lips tight against his ear.

He turned to her, tilting his head so he could claim her mouth. Cupping her face with his gloved hand, he took the kiss deeper, nipping her bottom lip with his teeth and catching her sigh with his mouth. She leaned closer and felt the growl in the back of his throat as he tasted her.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he murmured when they broke the kiss. “I think that’s enough hunting for tonight. Let’s go home.”

Chapter Nine

 

Kissing her hadn’t been part of Ian’s plan. He was supposed to take her out into the woods and prove to both of them that they weren’t right for each other. Instead he’d gotten himself in deeper. He sat next to her, feeling her try so hard not to move, her body tight as a bow string, and all he could think about was what it would be like to be the one to help her release all that tension.

When he’d drawn on the doe and seen the new babies, he knew he couldn’t take the shot. It had been worth it to see Rachel’s face when she saw them, and that was before she kissed him. He felt her lips soft and warm against his skin, and he had to taste her. Only the bow clutched in his other hand kept him from taking things farther. He wanted to feel her in his arms, feel her melt against his body, relaxing into his touch.

He knew she’d fight him on it. It was Rachel’s nature to fight everything. She’d sat in the tree stand fighting for stillness. He was done fighting. He wanted her. He’d tried to put some distance between them and that hadn’t worked. It was time to find out what this thing was between them. He was more than ready. He’d simply have to find a way to convince her.

They walked along the fence row back to the truck. Still quiet but not trying for silence, they picked their way through the broken corn stalks and stubs as the sky turned from hot salmon to a cool purple. The temperature had dropped along with the light, and he worried if she was warm enough in his fleece. He wasn’t willing to look too closely at what it might mean, but he liked seeing her wear his clothing. When they got to the truck he stowed his bow and the harnesses before helping her up into the cab, hurrying around to his side before he lost his resolve and pulled her to him for another kiss.

The next time he kissed her, he wanted to give it his full attention. He wanted more than making out in his truck, and he was willing to wait for it. Or he would be if she’d stop worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. The kiss must have shaken her too for his ice queen to be showing her nerves.

“That was amazing,” she said, practically vibrating in the seat next to him, and for a moment he thought she was talking about the kiss instead of the fawns. It looked like all the energy she’d held onto while they’d been in the tree stand was buzzing through her now that she didn’t have to stay still any longer. “I’ve never been that close to a deer before and the babies were so sweet. I can’t believe how tiny they were and so perfect on their spindling little legs. The spots are really good camouflage, too. Much better than I would have imagined. I couldn’t see them at all when they were in the shadows.”

She launched herself across the bench seat of his truck, wrapping her arms around his neck again, and he couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm.

“Thank you for not shooting the doe,” she said, pressing another kiss to his cheek.

Hell, he’d put his bow away for good if it kept her kissing him.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said. With the organic farm’s kill permit, he was really supposed to harvest as many deer as he could, but the fawns were so new. He couldn’t bring himself to orphan them and leave them to the coyotes. Everything had to eat, circle of life and all that, but he didn’t have to be the one to feed it.

“Yes, I do. I know you didn’t have to do it, and I’m glad you did, so thank you.” She let her hand rest against his cheek and the heat from her palm warmed him.

When she moved back to her side, taking her warmth with her, he almost groaned at the loss. They drove the short distance to the service road that led to his place. The growing dark and the density of the forest around them made it feel like they were driving into a dark tunnel. As much as he hated to waste energy, he wished he’d left a light on in the house so it didn’t feel so abandoned as they pulled up. It might be easier to convince her to come in if it didn’t look so dark and creepy.

He wanted her to come in. He wasn’t ready for their night to be over. On the other hand if he got her inside his home he wasn’t sure he trusted himself not to push things too far too fast. It had been a long time since he’d really wanted a woman, and he wanted Rachel Southerland.

He pulled his truck into the gravel drive in front of his cabin, careful not to block in her tiny blue Fiat. With the car’s narrow road clearance, it was amazing that she’d made it to his place on the rutted gravel road without tearing out the undercarriage. She was either tenacious or crazy and he wanted a chance to find out which. The outside flood clicked on as he pulled in and he could hear Apollo doing his Cujo impersonation from inside the cabin.

“Do you want to come in?” he asked, wishing he hadn’t left the request so open ended.
Why don’t you come in? Come in, please.
There were a hundred ways he could have said it that would have gotten him closer to what he wanted. She hesitated and he started kicking himself.

“If you want to. I mean I’d like you to.” Smooth Maxwell. Very smooth. He’d be lucky if she didn’t go running in the other direction.

“I was wondering.” She stopped short of the request, and he wondered if she was as nervous as he was. Knowing that whatever was going on between them had thrown the unthrowable Rachel gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction. At least he wasn’t the only one out of his depth.

“What were you wondering, princess?” He grinned as he said the endearment knowing it would likely push her buttons, but instead of letting him rile her up, she met his grin with one of her own.

“Would you show me your workshop? I want to see what you do.”

“Of course,” he said, secretly pleased with the request. “Let me let Apollo out before he gives himself an aneurysm.”

She smiled and climbed out of the truck, waiting while he opened his front door. The enormous black shepherd burst through the door like he was spring loaded, barreling toward where Rachel stood. Most women and plenty of men would have backed up from the ninety pound dog hurtling himself at them, but Rachel dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around the dog’s neck and crooning his name. Apollo ate up the attention, sagging against her before collapsing to the ground and rolling over to show her his belly. She scratched him with both hands, and Ian knew she owned him. He might pretend to be Ian’s dog, but he was pretty sure Apollo would follow Rachel to the end of the Earth if she asked.

“Who’s a good boy?” she cooed.

“That good boy ate a whole bag candy the last time I left him alone. God only knows what he got into this time.”

“Can’t blame a fellow for eating candy.”

She might not be able to, but Ian didn’t have any trouble doing it.

“Who’s this pretty girl?” she asked as his cat climbed out from under the porch to rub against her legs. “You must be Artemis.”

The calico wound around Rachel, stepping over Apollo without so much as blinking. Ian could swear he could hear her purring from where he stood. Rachel gave the dog a final belly rub before scooping the cat into her arms and standing.

“Can I see your furniture?” she asked, absentmindedly stroking Artemis.

Ian swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away from the way her graceful slim fingers moved through the cat’s fur. He imagined her touching him like that and a significant chunk of his brain derailed.

“What? Yes, absolutely,” he said, shaking his head to clear it. He led her down the flagstone path, careful to avoid the mud from the melted snow and to the barn he’d converted into his workshop and studio. He had to wave his arm when he got close to the building to trip the motion activated flood, and he made a mental note to adjust it to pick up movement closer to the ground.

Pulling his key from his pocket, he slid it into the lock and twisted. He hated locking the buildings, but with what he and Apollo found in the woods a couple of weeks earlier on their way back from the AT, it seemed prudent. He pushed open the door and flipped the switch to turn on the overhead lights, before standing back so Rachel could enter. He heard her suck in a breath and it suddenly became very important to him that she like his work.

As he watched, she moved through the studio, still holding the cat in her arms. She paused in front of a half-finished narrow lingerie chest that perched at a slightly off kilter angle on ball and claw legs with intricately carved osprey talons circling polished orbs. It had taken him forever to get the angle right so it looked like the chest was getting ready to walk away and not just sliding to one side.

He trailed behind her paying more attention to her expression than the pieces she was looking at, and he saw the moment she realized the side table wasn’t simply tilted. He’d made it look like it was melting into the floor.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, startling the cat who squirmed to be let down. “These are fantastic, Ian. I love them.”

They moved through the workshop and past the unfinished pieces to the area of the studio he used to store and photograph his finished work. She let her hand trail over the long dining table in the center of the alcove before working her way to the chests and cabinets along the wall. Every time she made a sound of approval his chest swelled a little more with pride. He’d had countless gallery shows and sold his work in dozens of shops, but for some reason, her approval meant more to him than anyone else’s.

“I love it,” she said, finally turning to face him, her eyes lit in pleasure. “I love it all.”

He didn’t think. He simply moved to her, pulling her into his arms and covering her mouth with a kiss. It was no sweet teasing brush of his lips against hers. He wanted her, needed her and he put everything he was feeling, everything he’d felt since the night on the Appalachian Trail when he’d tucked her into her sleeping bag alone into the kiss. Her hands went to his neck, twining in his hair, and when her lips parted in silent invitation, he was lost.

 

 

Rachel couldn’t get over how perfect Ian’s work was. Playful but still sophisticated, with one small twist that added a hint of whimsy without making it silly. And everything was so beautifully crafted. His talent amazed her. What would it be like to create something like that? To make something that hadn’t ever existed before?

She’d never made a habit out of being self-deprecating or doubting herself. There were a lot of things she could do, including making sure things ran smoothly and stayed organized. She was almost certain she could run an empire, but she’d never created something. Not like Ian did. He made such beautiful things with his hands and for a moment she wondered what it would be like to have a hand that could do that touching her.

Then he kissed her and she didn’t have to wonder. She knew.

She melted into his arms, her whole body going soft as he ran his strong, capable completely masculine hands under the fleece and down her back to circle her waist as his mouth teased and tasted her. She parted her lips, meeting his tongue with her own, giving him as much as he gave her and taking back what she needed. He branded her, claiming her with his lips, and she offered him everything.

Laying a trail of kisses down her neck, he palmed her butt, lifting her up onto the table so he could fit himself between her legs. Hooking her ankles around his denim clad hips she pulled him closer, arching her back to give him better access. His teeth scraped over her collar bone and she froze, ready to give him everything and sure there was a reason why she shouldn’t.

“I can’t,” she said, still aching for him. “Not this fast.”

He let his head tip forward until their foreheads met. “I know,” he said, pausing for a moment to rest against her. “But God, I want to.”

Picking her up by the waist, he set her back on the floor, steadying her so she wouldn’t stumble.

“I should go,” she said, but she didn’t move to get out of his arms.

“I want to see you again.”

She nodded and smiled. “Me, too.”

“Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night. We never did get our meal at the Station.”

“I love the Station, but you know the chances of us eating there without running into Andrew or one of my brothers is almost impossible.” She watched him consider it before coming to a conclusion.

“I’ll happily brave the Southerland males if you want to go to the Station, but maybe it would be quieter to go somewhere else. Where should I pick you up?”

She was too old for it not to be weird having a date pick her up at her parents’ house. She thought for a moment before landing on the perfect solution.

“Pick me up at Jude and Autumn’s. Around seven?” It would give her an excuse to check on Autumn and the baby and Ian would get to meet her new niece. He hadn’t stayed at the hospital long enough to see her.

“Seven can’t come soon enough,” he said.

She gave him Jude’s address and one last kiss, pulling away before she abandoned her resolve and asked him to show her his house.

BOOK: Riding the Pause
13.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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