by Addison Cain
“It ain’t like you to sleep in, Matthew,” Eli declared around a mouthful of eggs. “You sick?”
The man in question grunted and looked to the plate of well-cooked breakfast Charlie slid before him. A cup of coffee soon followed, causing him to nod at the smiling chef in thanks. When he took a bite, it was actually tasty. “It’s real good, Charlotte.”
“You don’t look sick,” Eli continued.
“I ain’t sick, Eli,” Matthew growled, growing annoyed. “Stop gawking and eat your damn food.”
Nathaniel shook his head, eyes squinted shut at his stupid little cousin, certain the boy was about as bright as a broken light bulb.
Charlie sipped some tea, looking out the window at the weather. “You know, Eli, Matthew may say he feels fine, but I think a good walk in the fresh air will do him good.” She set down her cup and met the intrigued eyes of her lover. “What do you say you join me for a little hunting and let Eli keep tabs on the grill today?”
Finishing his coffee, Matthew wordlessly stood and went upstairs to dress for the weather. An hour later, they were deep in the woods, stalking a doe that looked mighty tasty. Matthew was a fine tracker, better than she expected, but when they were near enough to make the kill, he aimed his shotgun and missed, startling the doe. Snapping her rifle to her shoulder, targeting the fleeing deer, Charlie brought down the beauty with one shot right through the eye.
Blackbird never misses, she thought with a smirk.
“How the hell you do that?” Matthew’s pride was a little wounded.
She bit her lip and tried not to smirk. “I aim before I shoot.”
Kneeling down next to him, she put the rifle back to her shoulder and began to explain. “The gun is an extension of my body. I think of, and feel it, as if it were my arm instead of a piece of wood and metal. That way when I pull the trigger, I know I’ll hit whatever I see.” She pulled the trigger again and shot an icicle across the way in a blast of sparkling frozen water.
Handing the rifle to Matthew, she ignored the tight set of his jaw, and nodded for him to shoulder it. “Now feel like it’s a part of you.” Her hand went to his neck, Charlie peering over his shoulder to sight his aim. “Relax, I can feel you all tense under my hand. Think of something nice, and when your breath is natural and you are ready, pull the trigger.”
Matthew was thinking of something nice all right. A tightening of his finger and a bullet blasted the target almost spot on. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“The trick is to do it when things get sticky—to find that stillness. It’s the reason most men can’t aim for shit when it comes down to the wire. You pull out a pistol in the right mindset, and you’ve already won.”
He took in the unlikely woman, the serenity she found in danger. Setting the rifle aside, Matthew prowled over her, taking her lips for the first time that day. He held her down in the snow, growling like a wolf bent over his supper. Tongue tasting, lapping greedily, Matthew’s callused hand slipped under her layers of clothing to paw a breast and run his thumb over the tight little nipple.
He’d come at her so fast, Charlie had little time to do more than hitch her breath and brace as Matthew yanked apart her belt and opened her trousers. Cool fingers slinked inside, found her hot, and he kissed her, hard, again.
Teasing at the opening of her pussy, he denied her penetration, loving the way the woman arched and moaned so loud it was a blessing they were out in the middle of the woods. Matthew wanted more of that noise, more of the song she made for him. Twisting his fingers, he shoved in, thumbing her clit until the erratic jerk of her hips expressed how close he’d brought her. Trailing his hand from between her legs to her soft belly, pale eyes met hers, teasing, before turning her round about to set her on her knees. With Charlotte’s hands braced on the fallen tree trunk they’d used for cover, he tugged her trousers down to her knees.
Oblivious to the wet or the cold, she arched back and sighed when she heard the sounds of his belt coming undone. The head of his cock pressed hot against her, bulbous and probing. He surged, snapping his hips until they were fully joined. Groaning like a starved man finally given food, Matthew reached around to play with that little nub of nerves so she might scream some more. Charlie didn’t know whether to grind against his hand or buck back for more of his cock. Lost in the crude pounding and the rough little pinch on her clit, she let him have his way, turning her head so his lips could taste hers. She panted, cried out and begged him to take her harder. The stretch and searing heat, the masterful work of his fingers, it was her undoing. She climaxed so violently there were spots in her vision. While she reeled, he rutted a few more sporadic thrusts, ropes of the gooey seed she’d swallowed earlier filling her somewhere else.
They were both breathless, Matthew draped over her back, one arm tight around her middle. He brushed her cheek with a week’s old stubble, promising, “That was nothing compared to what I am going to do to you tonight.”
The excited whimper that passed through her throat inspired the man to swirl his tongue in the shell of her ear before pulling out, his eyes tied to the liquid aftermath wetting her thighs.
Aware any words the man spoke should be taken very seriously, Charlie fixed her trousers, wondering how on earth she’d been lucky enough to draw the attention of such a fine man.
Matthew offered her a hand when she stumbled, a little shaky on her feet, the hint of a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. She saw it and before she could say a word, he kissed her so deep she sighed.
The trek back was quick, and soon enough the doe was hanging from a tree ready to be gutted and cleaned.
Hunting knife in hand, Charlie went to make the slice down the belly, but Matthew stopped her. “Go on in and change out of those wet clothes. Eli and I will see to it.”
Handing over her knife, she was glad for the offer, uncomfortably cold from the after effects of their tumble in the drifts. By the time she came downstairs, dressed as a woman again, clean, warm and pretty, the meat was butchered and waiting.
After a day of preparing and seasoning deer for sausages, steaks—you name it—the four of them sat around one of the tables listening to the radio, each sipping their own jar. When it began to grow dark, Matthew shooed his kin away, sending them back to the farmhouse across the field with enough meat to see the boys though the coming storm—an unspoken cue to keep out.
Four days of snow and not a soul in sight made for some slow languid days before the fire and hot passionate nights between the sheets. Even new to the sport, Charlie kept him on his toes, not a touch bashful as she discovered Matthew’s love of the tricks she’d heard of over the years.
Chapter 6
“You gotta knead the dough with a roll of your wrist,” Ruth explained for the third time. “Not punch at it, Charlie.”
Charlie tried again, and failed to imitate the superior baker at her side.
Ruth gave her a wicked look, whispering, “It’s like running your fingers through a man’s hair—smooth and gentle.” The analogy made sense, and her student immediately improved. “There you go. Now,” Ruth gave her an innocent doe-eyed look, “anything special you want to make today?”
Charlie brushed a piece of hair from her face, smearing some flour across her cheek. “What do you mean?” Gesturing towards the table covered with various baked and unbaked bread, she looked over their work and shrugged. “Don’t you think that’s enough?”
“Well, menfolk tend to expect something special on a day like today. You want to bake him a pie?”
“What day?”
Ruth edged closer. “Valentine’s Day, you dolt.”
Charlie gave an apologetic smirk. “And just who would I be making a pie for?”
“You don’t fool me an iota… all calf-eyed when you think no one’s lookin’.” Ruth’s grin grew impish. “And we all saw him staring, all hot and bothered, at you during the Christmas Hoedown. Heard he threatened another suitor.”
“Who, Nathaniel?”
When the man moved on to tend to his chores, Charlie shook her head and explained, “If you think he’s the type of man who is going to buy me a card, you’re dead wrong.”
Ruth shrugged. “That don’t mean you can’t do it right. Train him up, as it were, for next year.”
Next year? The thought Matthew Emerson might still want her in a year made her heart flutter… then ache. It was gonna be only a matter of time before he wised up and ran her off.
“Why do you look sad all of a sudden?” Ruth’s small hand came to her arm. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Charlie.”
She forced a smile. “You didn’t. And it’s sound advice. Men do like to eat.”
“And those Emersons, they eat the whole dang pie in one sitting. Have you seen Eli? Proud as a peacock as he shovels it down.” Ruth snorted and saw the sparkle back in Charlie’s eye. “What do you want to make him?”
Charlie looked uncertain. Matthew might not appreciate the act, might get moody or embarrassed if she publicly gave him a treat… but something in Ruth’s words was wise.
Charlie wrung her hands, feeling like it might be a mistake. “I’ve kinda wanted to make his mama’s chocolate icebox pie.”
An encouraging wink came to her friend’s face. “Good thing we have all the ingredients to make it.”
By the time they were finished Charlie’s arm was sore from beating whip cream. But it was a beautiful thing, that pie—far better than anything she’d made before.
“Now go home, gussy up, put on some perfume and give him this pie.” Ruth nudged her out the door, eager to get to work on her own gift for Eli.
Walking into Devil’s Hollow with her basket of fresh baked bread, Charlie found the grill rather busy. Putting the bounty away, Charlie carefully hid the pie out of sight, unsure if she was supposed to give it to Matthew directly or just leave it out for him to find when he came home. Either way, she was feeling mighty foolish and just went upstairs to clean up like Ruth had told her.
An hour later, she was in a dress she knew Matthew liked, her hair fluffed up, and her lips freshly rouged. Sitting at the counter, she read the paper, looking up with a smile once she heard Matthew and Nathaniel return.
A packet of letters was tossed on the counter before her, the envelopes hitting the bar with a snap before a gruff voice stated, “These were at the post office for you, Charlotte.”
With only a cursory look her direction, Matthew walked to his office and shut the door.
“Well, aren’t you gonna open ‘em?” Nathaniel asked, easing up to the bar to spy.
Perplexed, she picked one up. “I don’t know. What are they?”
“What are they?” He shook his head and smirked before reaching for a fresh jar. “You got valentines, girl.”
Her finger poked at the three different envelopes, wondering if one was from Matthew. With a little blush, Charlie reached for the least fancy of the bunch. Nathaniel was watching her so closely she gave him a glare, but opened the letter and slid out a pretty card from James Thompson. The next was from Martha and Beau with an invitation to visit for Easter. The third was from Tommy.
“Get any good ones?” Nathaniel asked, reading over her shoulder.
Happy, Charlie gestured towards the best of the bunch. “Martha sent me this one.”
“And just who sent the other two?” Nathaniel reached across her, snapping them up and peeking inside. “My, my, looks like James Thompson is smitten with the new girl in town… Look, there is even a hand-written note: ‘For the prettiest girl in Monroe’. Awww, don’t that just beat all.”
Charlie couldn’t help but laugh. “How much you want to bet he sent out copies of that exact card to the other women of Monroe? I’m new around here and even I know not to go near that cad with a ten-foot pole.”
“And what does Tommy’s say?” Nathaniel cooed, batting his eyelashes before reading through the lengthy note. “Yup… that man wants to marry you.”
“Hell would freeze over first,” she snorted, very unladylike.
From the crack in his office door, Matthew watched the exchange. James Thompson was gonna get a fat lip and black eye next time he saw him. And as for Tommy, the last punch he got was nothing short of a swat. Matthew would smash his handsome nose flat.
“How about you, Nathaniel?” Charlie offered a devilish grin. “Did you get any valentines?”
He let out a playfully forlorn sigh. “Sadly, no.”
“You want one of mine?” Jeering, she handed him the card from James Thompson, then stood up and snuck back into the storage closet to grab a heart-shaped cookie. “Happy Valentine’s Day, you fool.”
Nathaniel took a big bite and groaned in approval, “That’s a damn good cookie, Charlie.”
She grinned, absentmindedly rubbing her sore arm. Once Nathaniel sat down to a game of poker with some of the regular drunks, the office door opened, and Charlie looked up with a smile. Once again, Matthew was glaring, really glaring to the point his pale eyes were aflame.
He stopped at her side and sneered at the discarded letters before speaking. “Why you rubbin’ your arm?”
She looked down at the sore appendage. “Let’s just say I put it to good work today.”
He grunted, reached into his pocket and silently slid a small box in front of her. Her eyes saw the gold tin and grew wide. When Matthew saw the smile bloom on her face, he added a modest card to the offering, the tips of his ears red at the sudden quiet from gawking customers.
Charlie’s fingers went to take the pink envelope and opened it with care. Inside was a sweet little card, tasteful and not too frilly. Something about getting one from him, from a man she knew must have hated buying it with a passion, made her leap from her chair and lay one on him right there in the middle of the grill, not a care for who saw what she did.
Catcalls and whistles sounded when she pulled back, blushing and happy. Unwilling to let the moment go, she smiled beautifully, and told him, “Wait right here while I fetch yours.”
Once she was out of sight, pale eyes burned every man making a whoop with such concentrated intimidation, the fools quickly shut their traps. By the time Charlie came back with her beautiful pie in hand, the room was back to behaving. Except Nathaniel, who was still snickering as he organized his cards.
“I made this,” she was bashful, stumbling over the words, “I wasn’t sure if you…” Charlie swallowed, smiled and just handed the damn thing over. “I hope you like it.”
It was a fancy looking pie, covered in stiff whipped cream and shaved chocolate, smelling as sweet as the woman who’d made it.
“If you like, take a seat and I’ll cut you a slice.” She looked so eager, Matthew couldn’t deny her.
Grinning like a fool, she cut him the piece, eager to watch him take a bite.
When the fork was between his lips, the scowl all but fell off his face. “That’s a mighty fine piece of pie, Charlotte.”
Matthew didn’t think it was possible for her grin to get any bigger or any brighter, but at his praise it surely did. She opened her tin of chocolates and popped one in her mouth, very happy she had followed Ruth’s advice.
Nathaniel went to get himself a taste, only to have Matthew take it from him, giving his brother a look that made it clear if anyone so much as tried a bite, they would deal with his wrath.
“You ate your cookie, leave my pie be.”
Matthew didn’t realize the slip, but Charlie caught on. He must have been watching as she opened her cards… his little burst of temper when he showed up with letters from other men.
Matthew Emerson had been jealous.
When he started eating the fresh piece he took from Nathaniel, Charlie warned, “If you eat that whole pie, you are going to make yourself sick, Matthew.” He just took another bite, completely unconcerned. She laughed, “Since you seem so keen on it, I almost
hesitate to ask… but… I will trade you one of my chocolates for a taste.”
Her eyes glowed playfully when he loaded the fork with a perfect bite and held it up for her. He slid it between her lips, and watched Charlie close her eyes when it hit her tongue.
It was a damn good pie.
When her eyes opened, he was poking through her box of chocolates, picking one with a look on his face that said fair is fair. Giggling, Charlie snatched her treats and took them upstairs before Nathaniel or Eli tried to steal one… and knowing them they would.
Once up in her room, Charlie could hear the men closing up early, the sounds of grumbled complaints from the drunks who wanted to stay making her chuckle while she brushed her hair and changed into something that was going to drive Matthew to distraction.
Downstairs, Nathaniel saw the discarded valentines, waving them about once Eli left for his rendezvous with Ruth. Laughing over what a fool his brother had been, he teased, “I don’t think I ever saw a girl smile so big for one little box of chocolates. Wish I could’ve seen you buy it. Was Mrs. Fletcher itching to ask you who it was for?”
Everyone knew who it was for. The whole damn town had been yapping about it since they saw him dance at the Christmas Hoedown. Shooting his brother an unamused glance, Matthew went back to counting the night’s earnings.
“You are one lucky bastard, Matthew.” Nathaniel dropped the unwanted cards in the garbage. “She certainly has stars in her eyes. Best marry that girl soon before she realizes what a jackass you are.”
Matthew grunted, looking up slowly from the money. Shifting his mass out of the chair, he motioned to the door. “Head on home now and take it easy on the jar; weather’s been bad and it’s rough road to Chicago.”
Not surprised he was being booted, Nathaniel shuffled out, muttering about what a stingy prick his brother was for not sharing his pie, only to hear the door lock rudely behind him.
Turning off the lights, Matthew headed upstairs to find Charlie lying in their bed wearing something so filmy it glowed like gossamer.
