Love Came Home (4 Oaks)

by Gayle Eden

  “He’s making coffee.”

  “I’ll just go—find something to do,” Kane uttered, giving her a make yourself at home wave.

  “Hang out and read.” She shook her head. “We were just going to talk. We’re still getting to know each other.”

  Carter entered, two steaming mugs in his hands, and took in Kane before reaching her one.

  “How’s Kelly?”

  “How should I know?” Kane shrugged, “I just came in—soaked and muddy. I’m not her babysitter.”

  “Chill.” Carter laughed and winked at Skye, before he said, “Just wondering if she came down today.”

  “Must have. She cooked.”

  “That was nice of her.”

  “You didn’t have to eat her cooking.” Kane looked between them and said, “Nice to meet you again, Skye. Scuse me, going up to read.”

  After he left, Skye sat on the sofa with Carter, and mused, “Did I pick up some tension?”

  “Kane’s not used to having women here, no one but himself and the old man. Kelly’s— introverted. And Kane doesn’t do well with awkward.”

  “Ah. Well. If she stays, I’d like to meet her.”

  “I’ll make sure you do.” He shrugged. “She’s not my kin, but she’s always been a kid sister. I guess at 24 I shouldn’t be so protective of her. But I hate to see people taken advantage of. I think, given her Mother’s long illness, the way her life is, she deserves better.”

  “You’re really a great guy.” Skye sat back, mug in her hands, and grinned while she scanned his face.

  He was slightly turned toward her, his cup in his fist, arm along the back of the sofa. “I’m all kinds of flawed.” His easy grin came as his hand moved so two fingers caught strands of hair at her temple and felt them. Eyes intent on hers, voice low and intimate, he went on, “You’ll have to hang around to find them out.”

  “Okay.”

  Obviously pleased with her response, after she’d drank some the coffee, he took her cup and set it by the couch with his. Turning more toward her, cupping her chin to tilt her face up, he kissed her.

  Skye finally got the one she had waited for. It was worth it. His lips and tongue were so sensual they melted her into the worn leather. She grasped his shirt in the back, at his shoulder blade, her other palm on his thigh. Carter tasted her and gradually increased the pressure, slanting his head the moment she kissed him back.

  Skye moaned when his fingers threaded in her hair.

  Arousal spiked. Sexual heat covered the both of them.

  Carter eased back. His warm breath bathed her cheek. He husked, “Wow.” Then straightened to look at her.

  If she looked as dazed as she felt, Skye would not be surprised. “Wow,” she echoed.

  She gladly took a few more short kisses, then Carter sat back, legs relaxed, knees parted, and pulled her against his side with an arm around her.

  Her head rested on his upper chest. Their fingers twined on his thigh. She could feel the slam of his heart and the coil in his hard muscles.

  He spoke in that smooth drawl above her, “Conversation is suddenly a challenge. You smell great. You taste good. You feel good. My mind is on one track at the moment.”

  She shifted, turned a bit, to regard him, noting the sleepy cast to his eyes. His lips showed that kiss.

  “It’s mutual.” Her gaze lifted to his. Her whole body felt him. Her senses were stirred by his flavor and scent. Looking at him was a turn on.

  She untangled their fingers and reached to filter them through his sable hair, then trailed down the line of his strong jaw. Finally she rested them on his strong throat and felt the pulse racing.

  His hand lifted to cup her head. She was ready when he brought her in for a kiss. Her free hand cupped his side and while Carter scorched her with kisses, his hands were stroking her too.

  Breathing thick, body alive and hungry, she felt one rest on her spine where her blouse separated from the low riding slacks. His fingertips were downward, close to her ass. Those fingers in her hair were curling a bit as the hunger rose in him too.

  Biting his lower lip before they drew in much needed air, her body sought to be closer. His hands were bringing her closer. In fact, he moved her, so that Skye was astride those strong thighs when they kissed again.

  Tasting, nibbling, breathing damp and hot, it felt so right to Skye. He felt warm, solid, and strong. There was sensuality in how he kissed. Purposefulness in the way his hands went down her back— a kind of helpless primal admission when they cupped her backside and slid her more astride an unmistakable erection.

  Carter made a growl sound and arched his neck a moment, leaving her panting breaths to fan his throat while he dragged air into his lungs.

  Her mouth tasted him there.

  She shivered.

  He drawled hoarsely, “I knew this—the moment I helped you up off the road. Damn, Skye…” He released a hard breath. His hands flexed on her ass. “We’re in trouble.”

  She laughed roughly and leaned back, finger combing her hair, feeling the flush on her face. Dampening her lips, oh-so-aware of a liquid need where she was astride him, Skye observed his closed eyes before he opened them. Heavy lidded, obviously aroused, he looked sexy and irresistible.

  “You want to take me home. Stay the night?”

  “Hell, yes,” he replied, but skimmed his hands up, eventually cupping her face. “But I’m leaving Monday and I don’t want to sleep with you and leave like that—even knowing for certain I’ll be back. I want to see you.”

  “I’m not going to misunderstand why you’ve got to go.” She could feel the warmth from the fire on her back. It wasn’t as hot as his skin. “I’m twenty seven. I think I can handle wanting, and being wanted.”

  He uttered helplessly, “You’re not helping.”

  “I’m making it easy to get what we both want.”

  He sighed. “I’ve done this, Skye. I’ve been great at the attracting and all the initial intimacy. I like someone enough, I commit, I don’t cheat. But I have realized—I suck at the sustaining. I tend to not put the effort in.”

  “You like the chase, and once you have them…”

  He winced. “Sounds bad. I’m not aware of that. Just telling you what my record has been.”

  She took that in. “I like you.”

  “I could fall for you,” he admitted bluntly. “I knew that too, the moment we met.”

  Wow. That threw her.

  He said, “I need you to keep me in check.”

  God. How sweet was that? How sexy.

  She murmured, “You’ve been doing fine.”

  He searched for the right words. “I want more than one date with you.”

  “I got that.”

  His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, eyes holding hers. “I’ve never been in—love.”

  “But I thought—”

  “I wasn’t. She knew it. I just wanted someone in my life—to come home to. Only, it never felt right. Nothing felt like home, and no one filled the spaces—Hell, I don’t know. I just know I don’t want to mess this up before it starts.”

  Skye’s heart was thundering violently. She eased back off him. On her feet, she walked over to observe the storm through one of the great room windows. “This feels—surreal.”

  He joined her, finishing his coffee and settling the cup on a ledge. Standing slightly behind her, Carter responded, “I’ve turned you off?”

  “No.” She turned so she could look up at him, her hand reaching and held his lightly. “Women say that all the time. They tell guys, up front, I’m looking for commitment—love. It is pretty amazing that you can just put it out there, that’s what you want.”

  Skye shook her head. “I don’t know how love happens. I have seen it with couples obviously. I have never come close. Not even—as close, as you have been. I just may be too cynical, versed in the realities of life, to believe it for myself. Not flowers and poetry stuff—the honest kind of soul mate stuff.”

&nbs
p; He didn’t mock or scoff at that. He actually pulled her close and had her head on his breastbone, his arms around her when he uttered “You haven’t had a relationship—or been with someone who enjoys being with you. I think that’s what I was getting at anyway. I already know the sex is going to be good with us.”

  She laughed quietly. “That’s… good to know.”

  He took her by the shoulders, held her back while locking their eyes. “Not saying, we have to fall in love. Just that I am open to it. No pressure.”

  Her brows arched ironically. “Absolutely none.”

  He sighed and then confessed, “Okay, here it is. You’ve met me again at a time when I’m just coming home—working through guilt for not keeping touch—damned happy at the prospect of working here with my brothers. Both of them. I saw you in the flower shop, and it was—I know you—but I don’t. I felt something I haven’t before. I am normally blunt, up front. However, I’ve laid a lot out there tonight. Hope it don’t scare you off?”

  “I’m flattered you respect me enough to be honest,” Skye said truthfully. “You’ve just buried your grandfather. Coming home isn’t easy and starting something new, damn sure isn’t. Making sweeping changes in your life. I honestly admire all of you, Crofts. You are doing something your family has done for generations. And, you’re making a family—out of three very different grown men…”

  He told her about Willow then.

  She had heard everything already, via talk, but Skye knew a bit about Rio and knew how significant that was. In the end, she said softly, “I’ll be here when you get back, Carter. Is that fair enough?”

  “Yeah. Fair enough.” He exhaled “I know you’re gun-shy, and I know why. I have no clue what you’re relationships have been like, but whatever was before, don’t matter for either of us. I just want a chance.”

  After another embrace, a kiss that almost got out of hand, he took her home.

  At the barn, Carter made her give him a tour while he held her hand.

  Skye could tell he was enjoying himself and interested in hearing about what she did. He goofed off with some of the props, making her laughter echo in the yawning structure. She was surprised on one hand, but on the other, he had self-confidence—so. It surprised her mostly because she hadn’t ever been around a guy like that. Handsome, macho in the right way, yet he had a great smile, ready wit, and was just….ah, hell, perfect.

  He even offered, “I’ve all sorts of free sports equipment you can use anytime. I’ll bring it all with me.”

  “Great. That’s always been a challenge for us.”

  Up the stairs, he eyed her living space with curiosity, the eclectic mix of furnishings and art—and said it was great how she had made some of it herself. Everything filled the tall walls, from old gears to folk art and pictures of herself and Rayne. The floors were reclaimed boards, half of it existing before, when old Vaughn had the place as an attic and platform. A winch he had used was dismantled, but now held a chandelier made from odds and end vases. There were candles around— and books. Lots of them. A hutch hid her computers and TV. There was screen made from louvered doors and shutters, where she tacked dried flowers, sachets, and notes with positive messages.

  Her bed, bought at a salvage store, was huge, draped with deep blue down quilts and comforter and had creamy white flannel sheets. The window seat was fashioned from two old trunks. There were all types of chairs against the wall; one at the vanity was a patio chair. The bath was downstairs, but she had an old claw foot tub she used sometimes, hauling water up, and letting it drain via a pipe that Juda had put in. In front of it, a cheval mirror. There were a dozen candles of various sizes around it.

  “This is a great place, Skye.” His gaze was very gentle when it touched her. “You’re first real home?”

  “Yes.” It made her throat flex that he realized that.

  “It speaks a lot about you. It’s really interesting. It’s a very warm and earthy space.”

  She flushed.

  Eventually they were standing by the door again. She had turned out all but the lantern light off. He kissed her, this time lifting her off her feet. Her arms around his shoulders let him support both their weight.

  After the kiss, he said, “Tell me I can call you.”

  Was he kidding? “You can call me.”

  He muttered, “I want to stay. I could. But I’m going. I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Do that.”

  Carter lingered even after digging out his keys.

  In the doorway, he raked a hand through his hair, lit a smoke while lightening arched in the distance.

  Leaning on the opposite side, she took it and dragged, feeling the jar as thunder rumbled. Rain-scented air lifted her hair as he turned to regard her.

  Sex—would be great on a rainy night like this.

  They were both thinking it.

  Handing him back the cigarette, she managed, somewhat husky from all the emotions the man stirred in her, “Once you move here, everyone you meet will tell you to stay clear of me. You’re attractive. A real catch. And there will be women with less baggage who offer—”

  He cut her off with a lush kiss, and tossed the cigarette.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, Skye. Except that you half believe, you’re somehow accountable for things that weren’t your fault. I know everything. It doesn’t have a thing to do with now.”

  His gaze swept her. “I know what I want. I know what I like about you. You know what my answer will be to people who try to disrespect you. I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you—backing out of seeing me, and giving us a chance.”

  She took another long kiss.

  Long after he left for the truck and pulled out, she sat on her bed, replaying everything he had said, all the kissing—all the feelings.

  “God—I am dreaming this episode in my life. This just doesn’t happen for me...”

  She finally got up and changed for bed. No way was tonight real. It was just too good to be true. He was. A shiver worked down her spine. He was potent.

  She was in the dark when she dialed Jesse. “You up?”

  “Sitting on the porch.”

  “Feel like talking.”

  “I hear it all in your voice.” Jesse had a smile in hers. “I’ll drive down in the jeep. You make hot chocolate?”

  “I will.”

  “Okay. Jesse?”

  “Yep.”

  “He scares me.”

  “I know. I’m on my way.”

  Chapter 6

  Kane, still half asleep, walked into the kitchen Sunday morning. It wasn’t even dawn yet. He was in sock feet, his work jeans, and had a shirt draped over his shoulder. Headed for the coffee pot, a voice out of the shadows nearly made him jump out of his skin.

  “I already made some. It’s Starbucks—espresso. Strong.”

  He filled a mug and turned, noticing Kelly at the wood counter, perched on one of the stools. She was cradling a big mug and had her hair back in a ponytail, glasses on her head. Via a light from the dining area that arched in, he could see she wore a dark jogging suit, top, and bottoms matching, with some logo on it, and a turtleneck under that.

  While he was drinking and thinking—waking up, she offered, “I wanted to catch you before we left.”

  He arched his brow.

  “Carter said you invited me to stay here too. I wasn’t sure after—well; I wanted to make sure you’re just not being polite.”

  He went to sit on a stool near the sink, back, but opposite her. “You’re welcome to stay.”

  “I made you uncomfortable the other day. I’m sorry. My emotions are all over the place.”

  “….It’s all right.” Eyes adjusting to the light, he was reassessing—noting that with her hair back from her face, it revealed her attractive features. The glasses not hiding her eyes—subtly make up—they shone more.

  “It’s not.” She laughed softly. “But after being mortified a whole day. I got over it.” She tilte
d her head, considering him. “I’m not blood kin. I’m not family. So, you don’t have to offer me a place to stay. In spite of Jeff and that mess, I have a good resume. I’ll get a job, move on.”

  “You’re a stepdaughter to our mother,” he said frankly. “Aside from that, I realize this big rambling house has been empty a long time. I may not be the most sociable brother, but you were in a situation when you came here with Carter—and things changed for him—but that’s no reason you get kicked out of the picture. You’re more than welcome here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He grinned before taking a healthy swallow of coffee. Regarding her as she did too, noting her eyes going from the frosty window and darting other places—likely to avoid looking at him, he asked, “Do you know how to ride?”

  “I do, actually. I haven’t much, but Dad kept a horse.”

  “That’s good.” When her eyes landed on him again, he retained that grin and muttered, “You’re a horrible cook.”

  “I know.” She chuckled.

  “It’s okay. We eat out sometimes, grill out, or I cook late. Even if you work off the ranch though, you should take advantage of what this kind of life offers.”

  She nodded. “Dad had a small farm. I am comfortable with the outdoors, I just—escaped into studying. It’s… hard to explain…”

  “Not really. Ranch work does that for me. It makes you focus on something else.”

  “Yeah.” She stood, leaned her elbows on the counter, and said lastly, “I’d like to stay here. At least until…I get my balance.”

  “Then come back, with Carter.”

  They finished their coffee. He poured another cup and put his shirt on. “I usually cook breakfast after I do morning chores.”

  “I’m going to go into town, actually. Carter’s truck scares me to drive, but—”

  “I gave Rio Grandpa’s truck yesterday— after he cleaned his up. It smelled like animals. He has to pick up Willow in it and move her in. But there’s a mid-sized car you can use.”

  “Okay.” She sounded relieved.

  “Keys…” He pulled open a drawer and got them out. The car was something he drove on dates. Or rather, hook ups, as Carter would have called them. “Tank is full. You’ll want to wait until eight or so, nothing much open right now except a Denny’s.”