Courage

by Kristen Proby

  “But?”

  “But does it mean that people are forgetting them?”

  “You’re an overthinker, Natasha Mills.”

  “Yeah.” She shrugs and reaches for the bread, then bites into it. “I always have been. This dinner was a nice surprise. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” I sit back and watch her, feeling something stir inside me when she licks her bottom lip. “That dress is nice on you.”

  “Oh, thanks.” She glances down as if she doesn’t remember what she’s wearing.

  But I’ll never forget it.

  A pink sundress with thin little straps on the shoulders. No bra straps.

  This is the second time in only a few days that the thought of Natasha’s bare breasts has gotten me all hot and bothered.

  “Sam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I asked if you were ready to head out.”

  “Oh, sure.” I stand and offer my hand to help her out of the booth. When she walks ahead of me, I keep my hand on the small of her back.

  I like touching her—more than I thought I would.

  She could become addicting.

  I haven’t decided how I feel about that, exactly.

  Tash takes a deep breath and lifts her face to the sky. “It’s such a nice day. I’m glad we walked.”

  “Me, too. I need to walk off the tiramisu.” I slip my hand into hers as we stroll along the sidewalk, through the heart of downtown Cunningham Falls. Mrs. Blakely steps out of Little Deli to pull her sign in for the night and sees us, her gaze immediately falling to our clasped hands.

  But she doesn’t say anything. She just winks and walks back into her shop, locking the door behind her.

  “Interesting,” Tash murmurs and looks up at me. “Did you say something to her?”

  “Nope.” I laugh when she stares up at me, daring me to lie to her. “I promise. Maybe she just learned her lesson.”

  “Maybe.”

  It’s late into the evening now, but the sky still hangs onto a bit of light, and the birds sing in the trees as we make our way through town.

  Tash lives in an older house in one of the first neighborhoods established in Cunningham Falls. If I remember correctly, I think she’s renting from Ty Sullivan.

  But that’s not what I want to discuss with her tonight.

  “Tell me about Gage.” Her hand immediately stiffens in mine, but I hold strong.

  “We’re just not close.”

  “Bullshit.” It’s not said with force or anger, just conversationally.

  “I don’t know him,” she finally says with a sigh. “Gage and I haven’t been close since we were little. And once he went into the Army, we drifted apart. We stayed in touch for a while, but it didn’t last long.”

  “Why not?”

  She blows out a breath. “You’re damn nosy.”

  “Curious.”

  “My parents and I do not get along. At all. Thankfully, they don’t live here anymore. They moved to Hawaii because my dad’s sister got a teaching job there, and my parents decided that island life was for them. And, to be honest, I don’t miss them a whole lot.”

  “I thought they were dead.” I frown. “Since you never talk about them, and I don’t see them around town, I just figured they were no longer with us.”

  “They’re alive and well, last I heard. I don’t think I’ve spoken to my mom in about eight years. I talked to my dad a few weeks ago when he called to give his condolences about Monica. When I told him I’d be raising the kids—with you, of course—he just said, ‘Good luck with that.’ Not, ‘Can we help in any way?’ Or ‘Do you need anything?’ So, there’s no love lost there.”

  “What started it?” I ask.

  “I went to nail school.”

  I blink down at her, certain I heard her wrong. “What?”

  “Yep. They’d saved up a bunch of money over the years for me to go to college. I didn’t need even a quarter of it for my schooling. I wanted to do nails. They accused me of choosing something cheap, so I could pocket the rest of the money.”

  “What the hell?”

  “I know, right? The best part is, I didn’t use any of it. Not even for school. I paid it off myself because I’d be damned if I used anything from them.”

  “Where did they want you to go to school?”

  “Oh, they absolutely expected me to go to the University of Montana, just like they did. They’re alumni. Dedicated doesn’t even begin to describe their love for their alma mater.”

  “You seriously don’t speak to your parents because you didn’t go to the college they wanted you to?”

  “No, they don’t speak to me. And Gage has had a rough row with them as well because he went into the Army. But, in the beginning, he sided with them. He thought I should just shut up and go. He’s not even a full year younger than me. And when it came time for his turn, he wanted the Army.”

  “I bet they weren’t happy about that, either.”

  “Actually, they were thrilled. They said that if he wasn’t going to their precious university, at least he would be doing something noble with his life, unlike his white-trash sister.”

  I stop on the sidewalk, just a block from Tash’s house, and stare down at her in disbelief.

  “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  “I wish I were.”

  Anger, pure and ripe, fills me on her behalf. I want to beat the shit out of them for ever making her feel less than. Tash has done amazing things with her life and for her community.

  “Shame on them,” is all I can say.

  “Absolutely.”

  We fall into step once more, and I follow her up the steps to her front door. Once she unlocks it, I cage her against the doorway.

  She licks her lips, and I know that I’m a goner. Jesus, I want to kiss her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

  So, I lower my face to hers. I brush her nose with mine and then sink into her, soaking her in. She moans and melts under me as my mouth opens, and I take my fill until I have to pull back and stare down at her.

  Her brown eyes are heavy and full of lust as she gazes up at me.

  “Sam?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I think you should come inside.”

  “Good idea.”

  Once through the door, Tash’s purse hits the floor. I shut the door and round on her. I’m not nearly as gentle as I planned to be when I yank her against me and retake her mouth, spinning her and pressing her back against the door.

  “So sweet,” I whisper against her neck as I lick my way down her throat. I pull one of the straps of her dress to the side and nip her shoulder. “Jesus, Tash, I want you.”

  “Thank God, because if you’d said we shouldn’t and left, I might have killed you dead.”

  I pull back to grin down at her. “Violent, aren’t you?”

  “Turned on, Sam. I’m damn turned on.”

  She slips the other strap down her arm, and the fabric pools around her waist, exposing her perfect breasts. The nipples are hard, and her chest heaves as she pants. I know in my gut that I couldn’t walk out of here if the place were on fire.

  “I’m not leaving,” I promise.

  “Good.”

  “And you’re not going to wear clothes for about the next thirty-six hours.”

  “I can live with that.”

  Chapter 5

  ~Natasha~

  Is it the stress? The fact that Sam and I spend so much time together now that we have the kids to raise? Could it be because I’ve wanted him for as long as I can remember, and he’s finally stripping me naked and having his wanton way with me?

  I don’t know what the reason is—and frankly, my brain is too mushy to really care. All I know for sure is that I need this.

  I need Sam.

  “Need you, too,” he whispers before nibbling on my collarbone. I didn’t even realize I’d said the words out loud.

  If I weren’t so incredibly turned on, I’d be emb
arrassed.

  “Jesus, you’re bare under this thing.”

  I grin and then gasp when he tugs my nipple right into his mouth and pulls.

  Hard.

  Christ, if I’d known that sex with Sam would be this crazy, I would have jumped him years ago.

  He palms my ass with his big hands and turns to carry me to the bedroom.

  “Need to see you,” he growls, moving fast through the house. I fall onto the bed, my sandals slipping right off my feet as Sam yanks my dress down and tosses it on the floor.

  “Holy fuck.” He just stands there, staring down at me, and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth.

  Suddenly shy, I move to cover my breasts, but he swiftly crawls over me and gently tugs my arm away, kissing my injured hand in the process.

  “No. Don’t cover yourself, Tash.”

  “You’re just staring at me.”

  “Well, yeah. Of course, I am. You’re so damn beautiful it hurts.”

  I grin again. “Aww, I bet you say that to all the girls, Sam Waters.”

  “No.” He kisses me so gently, his lips a mere touch. “No, Natasha Mills, I don’t.”

  His attention is gentle. Feather-light. It sends chills over my naked body as he barely brushes his fingertips down the center of my chest to my navel. When he licks the shell of my ear, I gasp.

  He’s barely touching me, and I’m ready to come out of my skin.

  “Let’s get this show on the road.” The words are rough, my voice thick with lust, but Sam just chuckles in my ear.

  “We’re on the road,” he says. “But we’re not getting in the fast lane this time.”

  “Let’s not hang out in the slow lane, either.”

  I feel him smile against my skin. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to get you here, in this exact spot, Tash?”

  “Ditto. But damn it, Sam, I’m in knots here. If I don’t have an orgasm stat, I’m going to come unglued—and not in a fun way. In a frustrated way. And neither of us wants that.”

  “You’re right.” He leans up and nods grimly. “That would be awful.”

  “Maybe the worst thing ever.”

  “We can’t let that happen.”

  “Great.”

  I move to spread my legs, but he doesn’t get undressed to do me. No, that would be too normal for Sam Waters.

  He’s never been predictable.

  This man, this glorious, wonderful man, proceeds to scoot down the bed, and with his hands planted on both of my inner thighs to spread me, he face-plants right into the promised land.

  “Sam!”

  I almost jackknife into a sitting position, but then his tongue gets busy, and all I can do is fist the bed linens and hold on for the ride of my life.

  If this isn’t the fast lane, I might want to rethink going into that lane because it could very well kill me dead.

  His hands no longer hold me down. Instead, he brushes his fingers up and down the skin of my thighs, making me clench and squirm. When his tongue slips through my folds and inside me, I see stars.

  Shooting stars.

  Explosive, shooting stars.

  I come apart as I cry out, gripping Sam’s hair as I ride the delicious wave of ecstasy.

  When the clouds part, Sam leisurely kisses his way up my stomach. When he reaches my breasts, he camps out and pays attention.

  “For such a willowy woman, you have great boobs.”

  “Ha-ha. Funny.”

  “Not funny at all. True.” He licks a nipple and then blows on it, watching in fascination as it hardens. “Sexy.”

  “Are we back in the slow lane?”

  “Just for a minute,” he says.

  I blink.

  “You’re naked.”

  “So are you.”

  “I mean you weren’t naked just a few minutes ago. When did that happen? Are you a wizard or something, who just magically strips off his clothes?”

  “Yes.”

  I stare at him, and he laughs.

  “You were busy enjoying your orgasm when I took them off.”

  “I didn’t get to look at you.”

  He quirks an eyebrow, and with mischief in his eyes, he stands up and turns in a circle. “Better?”

  “Hmm. Turn around again.”

  He does as I ask, and I admire his backside. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the man has an ass to write home about. And his back muscles!

  He starts to turn back around, but I just say, “Stop.”

  “Do I have something stuck to my ass?”

  “No, I’m just admiring it.” I sit up and scoot over so I can bite the flesh of his butt. “And we need to talk about your back.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Absolutely nothing at all. The muscle tone is crazy, Sam.”

  “All the better to carry you with.” He turns, and I’m eye-level with his very impressive dick. I reach for it and look up to find his eyes narrowing as he watches me intently.

  “Hi there.” I kiss the tip, the same way he did my nipples, and then blow on it.

  “Natasha.”

  “Oh, now you want to get in the fast lane?”

  He laughs and tumbles me back onto the bed, then covers me. With those deep blue eyes trained on mine, he sheaths his cock, slides right inside and seats himself, balls-deep.

  “Oh, damn.”

  Tears threaten. Not because he hurt me or made me do anything I didn’t want to do. No, it’s because I’ve waited years for this. For him. I’m no virgin, but deep down, I always yearned for Sam.

  And here he is.

  Inside me.

  And looking at me as if I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

  “You okay?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Then why do I see tears swimming in those gorgeous eyes?” He kisses my cheek and brushes his fingers through my hair.

  “I’m not crying.”

  “Okay.”

  I hitch my legs up higher on his hips, and he takes a long, deep breath.

  “Sam?”

  “Right here, babe.”

  “Holy shit, Sam.”

  His lips tip up into a sweet smile. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Now, fast lane or slow? It’s up to you.”

  “I’m not the only one here.”

  “You’re the most important one.”

  And just like that, I might have tipped over into love with this man. Real love, not the crush I’ve had for most of my life.

  I knew he was special.

  I didn’t know he was this incredible.

  “Maybe the middle lane?”

  He rubs his nose over mine and sets a rhythm, a push and pull that’s right there in the middle. Not too slow, not too fast. Just perfect so he hits all the right spots but ensures I don’t finish too quickly.

  He takes my good hand, kisses it, and then traps it over my head against the mattress as he picks up speed, just a tiny bit.

  “God, I can’t hold back.”

  “Don’t. Don’t hold back with me.”

  His jaw clenches, and with a low growl, Sam loses himself. All I can do is watch with absolute female satisfaction as he comes apart.

  When he pushes in, pulsing and rubbing against my clit, I follow him right over.

  “Whoa.” I swallow hard, and then he rolls us onto our sides so he can relax next to me. “Who knew it would be like that?”

  “Me.” He brushes a lock of my hair off my cheek. “I knew.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Do you feel okay? Do you need anything?”

  “I’m perfectly happy right now, thanks for asking.” His face is mere inches from mine as we both share my pillow. “Does this change everything?”

  “No overthinking,” he says gently. “But, yes. It changes everything.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Do I overthink every single thing?” I ask as I make myself at home in Aspen’s kitchen, getting to work on my famous margaritas.
<
br />   “If you’ve suddenly changed everything about your personality, then no.” Aspen grins when I narrow my eyes at her.

  “Don’t say anything without us!” Her Royal Highness, Princess Eleanor—better known as our bestie, Ellie—says as she and Alice hurry into the room. “We got here as fast as we could.”

  “And by that she means that my husband drove as slow as possible,” Alice adds with a grimace. “That man doesn’t understand urgency unless someone has a gun pointed at Callum. Then, he picks up speed.”

  “Thankfully, the whole gun pointed at my husband thing doesn’t happen often,” Aspen says with a wink. “You haven’t missed much yet. Tash was just asking if I think she’s an overthinker.”

  “No, not at all.” Ellie rolls her eyes. “Never. Not you.”

  “Sarcasm isn’t dignified on royalty,” I inform her.

  I love these women. They’re my tribe. Aspen owns Drips & Sips here in town and married Ellie’s brother, Prince Callum, several years ago. The royal family is deeply rooted here in Cunningham Falls now, but they bounce back and forth between Montana and the United Kingdom.

  Alice is married to Callum’s personal bodyguard, and she does most of the cooking for the royals. She’s become a great friend since we met her back when Callum and Aspen were dating.

  “I’m incredibly dignified when I’m sarcastic.” Ellie sniffs regally, making me smile. “Why are you worried about overthinking?”

  “Sam pointed it out, and I guess I never really gave it much thought before.” I squeeze fresh limes into the blender.

  “How are things with the kids and Sam?” Alice asks, the three of them sobering.

  “Things with Sam are really good.” I bite my lip, thinking about the weekend we just had. “We had sex.”

  Three gasps fill the kitchen.

  “Natasha,” Aspen breathes. “And you haven’t told us yet?”

  “I didn’t see you before tonight.”

  “You lead with that information,” Ellie says. “As soon as we walk through the door, the first words out of your mouth should be: ‘I did the dirty with Sam.’”

  “It wasn’t dirty.” I add more lime and then pulse the blender. “Well, some parts were kind of dirty. But now, I have doubts.”