Feeling like the odd one out, she searched for Jake, who was chatting with Rafe Kendrick at the foot of the staircase. Still holding the baby, he stood with his dark head bent, his body relaxed against a banister. As if he sensed Molly’s gaze on him, he glanced up, his blue eyes locking on hers. A faint smile played over his mouth. He murmured something to Rafe, then fell into a lazy saunter that carried him quickly across the room. After returning the infant to its mother, he took the empty plate Molly held on her lap and set it on the coffee table.
“We need to walk over to the cabin and grab a few of your things,” he said softly.
Molly hadn’t thought that far ahead. But, of course, he was right. If she meant to spend the night at the main house, she would need her toiletries, a fresh change of clothes, and something to sleep in. Her mind froze at the thought, for all she usually wore to bed was an oversize T-shirt and panties.
“I should stay until the kitchen is clean,” she protested.
“A bride doesn’t do dishes on her wedding night,” Mary inserted. “Go with your husband. We’ll handle the cleanup.” Catching Harv’s gaze, she smiled and added, “We should probably get to it. We’ve overstayed our welcome as it is. I’m sure the kids would like to be alone.”
“Oh, no!” Molly assured her. “We’re in no hurry for you to leave.”
Ryan, who was hunkered by Bethany’s chair, chuckled and glanced at Jake. “You hear that, Jake? You’re in no hurry to get rid of us.”
Jake only smiled, his warm gaze remaining fixed on Molly, his broad palm still outstretched. “Come on, honey.”
It didn’t seem to Molly that he was leaving her any option. Everyone in the room had turned to look at them. She took Jake’s hand and let him pull her to her feet. After grabbing two denim jackets, they left the house, escaping all the staring eyes. Jake slipped an arm around her waist as they started down the steps, touching her with the same casual possessiveness he had all evening, as was his right now that they were married.
“You in there, girl?” He squeezed her hip through the lined denim. “Hank’s coat damned near swallows you.”
In Molly’s opinion, it would be a mighty big gulp. As they walked along, she touched the wedding band on her finger. Wearing it felt odd after going without a ring for so many months, a silent reminder that she was no longer her own person. Married. The word rang in her mind like a key turning in a lock. She tried to remind herself that a life sentence with Jake might not be such a bad thing, but somehow that offered scant comfort.
Determined not to let panic get the best of her again as she had in Reno, she tried to push her concerns from her mind. Only she kept remembering her last wedding night, how Rodney had drunkenly groped her body, thrust into her with no thought for her pain, and then fallen into a stupor, crushing her with his limp weight. She’d been a possession to him, and nothing more. He’d had no regard for her feelings whatsoever, not that night or at any time thereafter. The thought of being treated that way again made her feel ill.
Jake wasn’t like that, though, she assured herself. He wasn’t. It was stupid to compare him to Rodney. Each time she made that mistake, he proved her dead wrong.
Though she’d walked this path with him many times, it seemed different tonight, more intimate somehow. He’d slipped his hand under the jacket, and his palm had found a resting place just above her left hip. The contact set her heart to skittering.
“You’re tense,” he observed dryly, his shimmering gaze finding hers in the moonlight.
Molly nodded. “It’s been an eventful day. I feel as if I’ve climbed onto a roller coaster and can’t get off.”
He made a low sound at the base of his throat. “Things will calm down now. You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.” He waited a beat. “I hope you don’t mind my insisting that we come over to get your things. Under other circumstances, we could forgo appearances, and you could just stay at the cabin as you always have. But with Rodney lurking in the wings, that wouldn’t be wise. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to sneak in on you during the night. I’d play hell getting you back once he got you to Portland.”
Molly hadn’t thought of Rodney’s sneaking in on her. “You’re right. We shouldn’t put it past him.”
“Trust me, I won’t. I’m not letting you out of my sight. You can bunk with me.”
Bunk with him? In the same bed? Molly threw him a startled look, which he didn’t seem to notice. Her hip nudged his leg as they circled a fallen log. At the contact, it seemed to her that he drew her even closer. She fleetingly wondered if he hoped to consummate the marriage tonight. Then she discarded the concern. Jake would never take a woman without regard for how she felt about it. Besides that, he’d all but promised not to.
“It’s a beautiful night.” Molly heard the nervous edge in her voice and wanted to kick herself. “Just look at the stars.”
“They are something,” he agreed, his voice pitched low and husky.
When they reached the cabin, Molly hurriedly collected her things so they could return to the main house and their guests. While she was digging in her drawer for something suitable to serve as a nightshirt, he stepped up behind her, nearly startling her out of her skin. Grasping her upper arms, he drew her back against him and bent to feather his lips over her hair.
“Molly, would you relax? Just because we’re married, it doesn’t mean I’m going to jump you. Why are you so nervous?”
That was a question Molly couldn’t readily answer. She certainly wasn’t afraid of Jake. The very idea was preposterous. He was the kindest, most gentle man she’d ever known.
Unfortunately, he was also the most physically attractive man she’d ever known. The mere brush of his hands on her arms made her skin tingle. She had little faith in her ability to resist if he set his mind to seducing her. He made her want to forget everything. Just the thought of his touching her bare skin made her stomach do cartwheels.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said weakly. “I guess the reality of what we’ve done is starting to sink in. I just—getting married wasn’t exactly on my agenda when I woke up this morning.” His big hands massaged her arms, forcing the knots of tension from her muscles. She leaned more of her weight against his chest, comforted by his sturdy hardness, yet unnerved by it as well. “I don’t really know what to expect. I mean—well, we are married. I couldn’t blame you for wanting to exercise your conjugal rights.”
“Conjugal rights? Never in almost thirty-three years have I heard anyone use that term. It’s hopelessly old-fashioned.”
“Is it?” It didn’t seem out of date to Molly, especially not now with Jake’s big hands locked over her arms. “Men have always expected certain privileges in marriage. I don’t think that has changed.” She could feel that it hadn’t in the way he touched her.
“I’m sorry the JP tossed in all the forever stuff during the ceremony,” he murmured.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“No,” he agreed, “but it’s worrying you.”
“We ended up making all the traditional vows.”
He feathered his lips over her temple. “True.”
“Vows should be kept.”
“I’ll keep mine if you’ll keep yours,” he murmured with a teasing smile in his voice.
Molly squeezed her eyes closed. “I don’t know that I have a choice. Maybe it was only a cheesy little chapel in Reno, but I feel that I made them before God, nevertheless.”
“Me, too,” he whispered. “That being the case, can I promise you one more thing?” At her nod of assent, he said, “You’ll never regret marrying me. I’ll spend the rest of my life making damned sure you’ve never got a reason.”
Oh, how Molly wanted to believe that. She thought of how he’d looked holding his sister’s baby, and she wanted to grab hold of the dream again with all her heart. “Does this mean you want to go ahead and have sex tonight?” she asked tautly.
“Molly, not everything in
a relationship revolves around sex.”
“You’re thinking about it. Tell me you’re not.”
He went perfectly still. “Yes, I’m thinking about it. I want you so much that I ache. I won’t lie to you about that.” He ran his hands lightly downward until his fingertips found hers. He interlaced their hands. “I said I’d wait until you’re ready, though. Do you think I was lying?”
Molly closed her eyes. “I think you know very well that in many ways I am ready.”
He sighed, disentangled his hands from hers, and wrapped both arms around her, one large hand splayed and laying claim to the slope of her ribs just under her right breast. “In many ways, yes. I think I could kiss you and make you want me.”
Molly almost denied it, but she’d told this man far too many lies already. “Yes,” she admitted faintly. “You could.”
He bent sideways to kiss the hollow just under her ear. “There’s just one minor problem,” he whispered. “You’re afraid I won’t want you. Until you’re past that and start to feel better about a few other issues, it’ll never be perfect between us. I think perfect is worth waiting for.”
Chapter Twenty
An hour later, Molly was alone with her new husband at the main house. Even Hank had left, abandoning his room at the opposite end of the landing from Jake’s in favor of a cot in the bunkhouse. Knowing that he had left to give her and Jake privacy on their wedding night set Molly’s nerves on edge even more. It seemed the whole world expected them to have sex at the first opportunity.
She was trembling as she mounted the stairs in front of Jake. He’d flipped off the lights on the main floor, leaving them with only the ceiling fixture above the landing to illuminate the way. Over the course of her employment at the Lazy J, Molly had ascended these stairs dozens of times to put away freshly laundered clothes or to clean the bedrooms. She didn’t know why the climb unsettled her so badly now.
The thump of his boots resounded on the steps behind her, the plastic bag of her clothing that he carried rustling against his jeans. Once on the landing, he placed a hand at the small of her back and propelled her toward the master suite, which Molly already knew was a warm, rustically charming trio of rooms, a large sleeping area, a cozy reading nook, and a spacious four-section bath with an adjoining powder room, dressing room, and huge walk-in closet.
At the doorway, he grasped her shoulder to stop her from entering. Tossing the plastic bag in ahead of them, he said, “We can forego some of the traditions of a wedding night, but there’s one custom I refuse to let slide.”
He bent and caught her up in his arms. Afraid that he might drop her, she squeaked in surprise and grabbed hold of his neck. “Don’t try to carry me!” she cried. “I’m way too heavy. You’ll hurt your back.”
He gave her a bounce. “Ah, bull. You’re not so heavy.”
“Almost a hundred and forty,” she corrected.
“That much?”
She drew an arm from around his neck to slug his shoulder. He laughed and turned slightly sideways to move through the doorway so her feet wouldn’t catch.
“At least this is an improvement,” she observed.
“What is?”
“When Rodney carried me over the threshold, he bonked my head.”
Jake winced and smiled. “Yeah, well, stick around. This isn’t the only thing I’ll improve upon, and greatly, I might add.” He carried her to the bed, gently laid her on the mattress, and then, after bracing a hand on either side of her, moved back to gaze down at her. “Just as I thought,” he said softly. “You look absolutely right, lying there.” A twinkle of mischief entered his eyes. “How can a man get so lucky? I’ve never seen such a gorgeous compass.”
Molly frowned bewilderedly. “Compass?”
He grinned and trailed a fingertip over her mouth. “That’s north. I’ll leave you to figure out the other pointers by yourself.”
Molly groaned, which prompted him to laugh softly. Her cheeks went warm. Strike that, her whole body went warm. She stared up at him, dry mouthed. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he bent his arms and lowered his head to gently kiss her. After tying her belly into tight knots and making practically every muscle in her body start to quiver, he drew back to gaze at the pointed tips of her breasts that peaked the cotton of her blouse.
“Those little beauties are definitely thrusting like sword points and stabbing my loins with desire,” he whispered.
Recognizing that line from the romance he’d left on her porch, Molly gave a startled laugh.
“So you did read it,” he teased.
“I leafed through it.”
He nodded, his eyes gleaming. “To the best parts?”
She laughed again.
“That’s better,” he said approvingly. “Much better. You need to relax and take life just a little less seriously. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Not that I recall, but I’ll make note of it. Any other suggestions?”
He shoved with his hands to bounce up off the mattress. “Yeah, but they’ll keep.” He grabbed up the bag that he’d tossed on the floor and set it on the bed. “For now, just seeing you smile is a step in the right direction.”
He began unbuttoning his shirt as he strode to the bathroom. Over his shoulder, he said, “You may as well get comfortable. I think it’s going to be a very long night.”
Molly sat up and opened the plastic bag. The T-shirt she’d elected to wear lay at the top, a wash-worn white thing that hung lower over her thighs than all her others. She sighed, wishing, not for the first time, that she had some flannel pajamas.
She was still sitting there staring at the shirt when Jake emerged from the bathroom a couple of minutes later. Bare from the waist up, he reminded her of the first time she’d ever seen him. Her initial thought was that she’d never seen any man more beautiful. Her mouth and throat suddenly felt as if she’d just gargled with Elmer’s glue.
His upper body was burnished, every muscle and tendon that roped his torso standing out in sharp definition. His tousled dark hair gleamed in the lamplight, the tips ignited to gold. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t have any real pajamas, only a T-shirt.”
He arched his dark eyebrows and stepped over to the bureau. “I’m going to dig out some sweats for me.” After opening a drawer, he shot her a measuring glance. “I have some thermal underwear that would serve as pajamas. You want a top and bottoms?” At her surprised look, he grinned. “If I’m going to behave myself, I figure the less skin I see, the better. I really, really hate to break my word to a lady.” He tossed the underwear onto the bed. “You in nothing but a T-shirt would be a little too tempting.”
Molly gratefully grabbed the underwear. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem.” He winked at her. “If you need help getting it on, just holler. I promise to make a difficult situation impossible.”
She laughed nervously and pushed to her feet. “I think I can manage.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
For the first five minutes, Jake waited patiently for Molly to come out of the bathroom. For the second five minutes, he waited, but not quite so patiently. When ten full minutes had elapsed, he started to worry. He heard none of the sounds people usually made while preparing for bed, no rush of water, no swish of a toothbrush, no flush of the toilet. What the hell was she doing in there, counting grout lines?
He swung off the bed, stood, and advanced on the closed bathroom door, which he felt pretty sure was locked. Even worse, he’d built it so sturdy he feared it would take two men and a small boy to break it down. If something was wrong, he might have to call on Hank to help him reach his wife.
Rapping lightly on the planks, he said, “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Not really,” she called back. “Would you mind handing me in my T-shirt?”
“Why? What’s wrong with my long johns?”
“Nothing’s wrong with them. They just don’t fit.”
Jake fro
wned and flattened a hand against the door. The underwear fit him. Molly was much shorter and weighed over eighty pounds less. “Are they way too big?”
“In my dreams.”
“Then how don’t they fit?”
“It’s more where they don’t fit.”
Jake grinned in spite of himself. Now that he came to think of it, she was more amply endowed in a couple of places than he was. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. We’re just going to sleep, not have a fashion show.”
“If you think certain parts of me thrust like sword points under two layers of cotton, you ought see them under tight knit.”
His smile broadening, Jake leaned a shoulder against the door. Delightful images sprang to his mind. “Honey, the shirt can’t be that snug.”
“It isn’t—in most places. And excuse me, but it isn’t just the shirt.”
“Come on out. I won’t look,” he tried.
“Not a chance.“
“I’ll turn out the lights first. How’s that?”
“No way. You can see in the dark.”
Jake chuckled. She evidently heard him. “Hand me the blasted T-shirt.”
He imagined cuddling up to her scantily clad butt and bare legs all night and knew he’d break his promise to her. “Molly, nothing but a T-shirt isn’t a good plan.”
“Trust me, my body vacuum packed in bubble wrap isn’t a good plan, either.”
Bubble wrap? Jake’s eyebrows inched toward his hairline. The thermal knit was a little like bubble wrap. “Try stretching the stuff.”
“How strong do you think I am?” Another silence. “The crotch hangs almost to my knees.”
Jake pressed his forehead against the rough-hewn planks of wood. The images dancing through his head did not bode well for a celibate wedding night. “Molly?”
Sweet Nothings Page 35
