by Jane Porter
Chapter Eight
Cade slept fitfully, aware that Rachel was in his house, beneath his roof. He wanted her so much that when he woke yet again, this time at five-thirty, he climbed out of bed and stepped into jeans, snapping the fly front over his boxers, despite the fact that it was pitch-dark outside and would be for at least another hour. Cade tugged an old black thermal shirt over his head, the material shrunk and faded from repeated washings, before adding a flannel shirt over that for warmth, but this, too, was soft and comfortable, something he needed after a night without rest.
Grooming was easy. After combing his hair and brushing his teeth, Cade skipped the shave. He didn’t have the patience to do a decent job and wasn’t in the mood to nick his chin.
Grimly, Cade stared at his reflection, focusing on the fine wrinkles fanning from his eyes and the deep lines etched on either side of his mouth. He looked about as old as he felt this morning. A hell of a lot older than thirty-three. But older was good, he reminded himself. Older meant wiser.
Downstairs Cade let out Lacey, made a pot of coffee, put out fresh water and food for Lacey, then stared out the window at the morning waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. He drank a cup scalding hot and black before heading to his barn and grabbing supplies to mend a fence he should have fixed a week ago but hadn’t.
Now parking at the top of a hill a few miles from the ranch house, the sun was just flirting with the morning, turning a slice of sky pale yellow with light. Tugging on his work gloves, Cade cast the dawn one last glance, wondering what the day would bring, before slinging a big ball of barbwire out of the back of the truck and carrying the wire to the fence. He’d left his truck’s headlights on to give him light to work by, but even with the dark and the frigid temperature, this was work he could practically do in his sleep.
As the sky lightened, turning pale blue with a few wispy pink clouds, Cade paused to rub at his hands, which ached from the chill, and found himself thinking of Rachel yet again, and didn’t she just tangle him up even more than this bundle of barbwire?
Rachel and Tommy had only been here a day but he liked having them here. Liked it a lot. It felt right to climb from bed and go to work, knowing they were still in their beds, sleeping. Somehow in just one day they’d taken his big empty house and made it feel like a home. The kind of home he’d always wanted as a kid. Now he just needed to figure out how to convince Rachel that she and Tommy belonged here, too. Permanently.
He pulled out a nail from his pocket and, slamming the hammer down, attached the corner of the wire to the top of the post, before working his way down the post, nail by nail, until the entire length was secure.
Beads of perspiration formed on his brow, dampening the brim of his hat. He welcomed the work and the burn in his muscles, welcomed the distraction. He’d rather wrestle the fence than his emotions, especially this ache of desire. He wanted to make love to her, yes, but this need he felt was more than sex, it was about holding her, loving her, letting her know he’d changed.
And he had changed. She just didn’t know it yet.
Another truck bounced up the rough dirt road, kicking up clouds of dust. The truck parked and a grizzled old cowboy swung out of the cab, walking toward Cade with the bowlegged gait of a man who’d spent his life in the saddle.
“Need a hand, boss?” the cowboy asked, putting on his own leather gloves.
“Morning, Bill,” Cade grunted around the three nails in his teeth as his ranch foreman straightened out the length of wire and tugged it tight so Cade could hammer this next section down.
“Stopped by the house,” the foreman said.
Cade hammered the top down. “Uh-huh.”
“Met Rachel.”
“Yeah,” Cade said, knowing that Bill had heard him talk about Rachel plenty of times over the years.
“Is that her boy?”
“Yeah.”
Bill hesitated, and Cade glanced up at him from beneath the brim of his hat, holding his foreman’s gaze. Bill van Zandt had been the first person Cade had hired after buying Sweetwater three years ago with his saved rodeo winnings, and the best person he’d ever hired, but Cade wouldn’t tolerate disrespect from Bill or anyone else who worked for him. “You got any other questions, van Zandt?”
“Is he yours?” Bill asked bluntly.
“No.”
“Who is the dad?”
“Some loser who walked away from Rachel when she needed him most,” Cade said tersely, tugging on the fence, checking to see if the section was attached securely, before heading to the next post.
Bill wisely dropped the questions as they finished repairing the fence in silence, but Cade couldn’t quiet the taunting voice in his head, the one that was saying he and Rachel’s loser boyfriend had a lot in common. They’d both walked away from Rachel, choosing to take the easy way out instead of doing the right thing. Fortunately, there was one huge difference—Cade loved Rachel, and this time he was fighting for her. And not just Rachel, but Tommy, too.
Returning to the ranch house, Cade headed to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee and warm up his frozen hands. He stomped his feet on the mat outside the mudroom door and peeled off his sheepskin jacket, hanging it on a hook by the back door.
Entering the kitchen, he discovered Rachel already there, standing at the counter in front of the coffeepot. She jumped and turned to face him, her expression almost guilty. “I just started a fresh pot. Hope that’s okay.”
He drank her in, thinking she looked almost as pretty as she had that first day in her yellow sundress. “That’s great,” he said, smiling, knowing he was smiling and unable to help it. She was wearing the big flannel robe he’d given her last night before she’d turned in, and she’d twisted her dark hair into a loose knot on top of her head, the dark heavy mass anchored by a yellow pencil, but already tendrils were falling out, tumbling around her pink cheeks. What he wouldn’t give to pick her up and carry her into his bedroom right now.
Her cheeks turned a darker pink and she tugged the edges of the robe closer together, making the shapeless, sacklike robe even more modest, and he grinned. “You’re gorgeous, Rachel. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look better,” he said, going to the sink to wash his hands, letting the hot water warm his stiff joints and fingers.
She rolled her eyes and tucked one of those sexy tendrils of hair behind her ear. “Nonsense.”
“I’m serious.” He turned the water off and grabbed a towel to dry his hands before facing her. “You’ve got to be the prettiest girl in all of Texas.”
“Now you’re just talking to hear yourself talk.”
“Is that so?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Then maybe it’s time I stopped talking and showed you what I’m feeling.”
Her gray eyes warmed, sparking with a fire he didn’t think he’d ever see again, before she smashed it down, hiding her emotions and passion behind that wall of cordiality she maintained around him. “I don’t think so,” she said primly, firmly, and he was amused.
He liked challenges. He was a professional cowboy for Pete’s sake. He had no problem proving himself over and over and over. It’s who he was. It’s what he did.
“Why are you smiling?” she demanded, pressing the flannel robe to her breast.
He tried so hard not to look at that lucky breast. He remembered how soft she was and sweet and lovely—
“Cade,” she said, calling him back to t
he moment.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“I’m not your darling.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I bet you call every girl ‘darlin’.’”
“No, ma’am.” He shook his head and walked toward her slowly, his arms relaxed at his sides. It was the same way he approached skittish mares, showing them he had nothing in his hands, nothing to frighten them. Rachel’s eyes widened, watching him approach, and she would have backed up if she could, but there was nowhere for her to go. She was stuck in a corner between counters and that coffee machine puffing away as it brewed a delicious-smelling pot of coffee.
“You should stop right there,” she said breathlessly.
“Right where?” he asked innocently, taking another step toward her, perfectly aware that he’d already covered the floor and if he reached out now, he’d have no problem touching her.
She tipped her head back to look up into his eyes. Damn, but she was just a little thing, just reaching his shoulder in bare feet. He’d forgotten how small she was, how delicate and lovely, and gazing down into her wide eyes, he saw that they had darkened, the gray irises reminding him of storm clouds. Gray eyes with flecks of sea-green and black...
Rachel held her breath, lost in Cade’s eyes. His eyes weren’t just blue, they were electric-blue and full of fire, and she knew what he was thinking, knew he wanted to kiss her.
Her skin prickled, the hair on her nape rising as he slowly leaned in to her, slowly enough to give her every chance to stop him. He was making it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t kiss her if she didn’t want him to. He wouldn’t force a kiss on her. He wanted her willing, and she was willing. And so she didn’t stop him. Instead she waited, hands balled in the pockets of his robe, heart thumping, blood racing in her veins.
She wanted this kiss. Needed this kiss. Needed to know if she’d imagined how good it’d felt being kissed by Cade King...
His dark head dipped and his blue eyes flashed, locking with hers for the briefest second before his mouth covered hers, his lips firm and cool, almost cold from having been outside, and yet it was exactly right, familiar and good, this man with his firm, cool lips and strong, beard-roughened jaw. A shiver raced through her and she sighed with pleasure, lips parting beneath his.
He deepened the kiss just as slowly, and again she was the one who moved toward him, pressing closer, wanting more, knowing this was how a kiss should be.
After what seemed like a very long time, he lifted his head and stared down into her eyes. But it was hard to focus on anything when her legs were so weak and her belly felt as if it was flipping inside and out as pleasure surged through her.
“Wow,” she whispered, licking her bottom lip, which was tingling like mad, as was the rest of her. “Apparently some things haven’t changed.”
His lips curved but his blue eyes didn’t smile. Instead they burned with a fire she couldn’t identify. “The good parts of me are still here. It’s the drunk ass that’s gone.”
She lifted a hand to his face, her fingertips gently touching his hard, carved cheekbone, and then down to the new scar just under his chin. “I once loved you more than anything.”
His gaze searched hers. “I know I don’t have any right to be back in your life, Rache, but I want a chance to prove to you I’m different—”
He stepped even closer, narrowing the distance between them to a hairbreadth.
Her heart hammered as he gazed down into her eyes, drinking his fill before slowly, carefully, tucking one of her tendrils of hair behind her ear. “I was a fool to leave you,” he said, the backs of his fingers brushing the curve of her cheekbone and then along her jaw.
Rachel shivered at his touch.
“Hands down, the biggest mistake of my life,” he added.
“You broke my heart,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat as her body seemed to hum, remembering him. Crazy how she only needed a touch and she was his again, her pulse pounding, the blood singing in her veins.
“Leaving you broke mine, too. Nothing was the same without you. Life didn’t mean anything without you.” He tucked another tendril of hair behind her ear, his fingertips tracing the shell of her ear and then moving lower to the little hollow beneath the lobe. “You’re so soft, so sweet.”
Then Cade dropped his head, and his mouth touched hers in a slow, lingering kiss that sent darts of feeling from her nipples to her belly and beyond.
Cade deepened the kiss, one of his hands cupping the back of her head so he could angle his mouth even closer, while the other settled in the small of her back, molding her body to his. He was warm and real, and suddenly she couldn’t get close enough. Rachel stood up on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer, loving how his big, hard body felt against hers. Instinctively her fingers curled into the cool crisp hair at his collar, savoring the silky texture and the warmth of his skin at his nape. “You feel so good,” she whispered against his mouth.
“I think it’d feel even better without so many clothes on.”
She drew back to look up into his blue eyes, and they were bright, hot and hungry. “I don’t remember that part in ‘Little Red Riding Hood.’”
“This is the adult version.”
“Ah.” Her lips twitched as she fought a smile.
“Is that a problem?”
“Not necessarily.” Rachel hesitated. “Tommy shouldn’t wake up for another hour.”
His burning gaze held hers. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I’ve missed you, Cade.”
His smile slipped and pain shadowed eyes. “Darlin’, if I could go back in time and fix everything, I would.”
“Was I that easy to leave?”
“Walking away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“You didn’t come back.”
“Took me a while to get sober. And then it’s taken me a while to make peace with myself for being a loser—”
“You were never a loser, Cade. You just had demons—”
He cut off her words with another kiss, even fiercer this time, his lips parting hers, his tongue tracing the softness of her upper lip and then the fullness of the lower lip, before slipping deeper inside to tease her tongue. Rachel’s belly clenched with need and she pressed her hips against Cade’s, rubbing up against the hard ridge in his jeans. “Have somewhere more private we could go?” she asked.
“I’ve got a big bed in my room, but it’s upstairs.”
“We can leave the door open.”
“And you really think we’ve got an hour?”
“More like fifty-seven minutes now.”
“That settles that,” Cade said, easily swinging her up into his arms and carrying her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the master bedroom, where he set her down on his bed before gently pressing her back against the mattress to kiss the side of her neck. “Can’t believe you’re really here.”
“Neither can I,” she breathed, as he pushed back the edges of her robe to kiss her collarbone and then a little lower. “Is this crazy?”
He’d been kissing his way down the slope of her breast and he flicked his tongue across her pert nipple before lifting his head to look her in the eye. “No, darlin’. I think this is the first sane thing I’ve done in years. You’re my girl. You’ll always be my girl.”
And then he was untying the sash
of her robe and kissing her and stroking her everywhere until she didn’t want anything but him. At her urging, Cade sheathed himself with a condom and settled between her thighs, and when he entered her, Rachel didn’t think she’d ever felt anything half so good in her entire life.
They made love the way she remembered...slowly, hungrily, with passion and need. And it might have been more than five years since they’d last made love, but Cade knew how to touch her and satisfy her, and he made sure she found release before he did.
Afterward, Rachel lay sleepy and relaxed in his arms, her cheek against his chest, listening to the strong, even thud of his heartbeat.
“Regrets?” Cade asked, his voice deep and slightly uncertain.
Her heart turned over. “No. I love being with you.”
“It feels right, doesn’t it?”
“It does—” And then she stopped at the sound of a door opening downstairs. “Tommy.”
“I heard him, too,” Cade said, slipping out from beneath her and leaving the bed to step into his boxers and jeans.
Rachel slipped into her robe, tying the sash tightly around her waist as she headed for the stairs with Cade close on her heels, but before she could take a step down, Cade caught her in his arms and spun her around to face him. “That was amazing,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on her lips. “You are amazing.”
She smiled and blushed. “It was pretty good, wasn’t it?”
“Next time we get together, though, it’s going to be a real date. Dinner, dancing, the works.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she teased as he let her go, and she skipped down the stairs with him close on her heels.
They found Tommy sitting on the family-room floor with Lacey and the pups. “Dog,” Tommy said happily, smiling up at them as they entered the room. “Puppies. Tommy’s puppies. Yes?”
Chapter Nine
Cade walked Tommy’s pony around the corral on a lead, and even though Milly was slow, sweet and placid, Tommy was thrilled, his eyes wide, his lips parted in an ecstatic O.
