Someday Soon

by Debbie Macomber

  “Do you have a clue of how difficult it’s been not to make love to you these last few days?” he asked, trailing kisses along the side of her neck.

  “Yes.” She knew exactly how hard it had been on them both, but she felt cherished and adored that he’d insisted they wait until after the wedding. She loved him all the more for his patience.

  He kissed her again slowly, with restraint, using his tongue to show her what he’d like to be doing to her body. What he would soon be doing.

  When he dragged his mouth from hers, he rested his chin on the top of her head. “Much more of this and we could be arrested.”

  Linette smiled softly to herself. “The way I feel right now, it would almost be worth it.”

  Cain drove fifteen miles over the speed limit for the rest of the trip, then stopped in a small seaside town. Apparently he was familiar with the area because he drove directly to a house perched against a windswept hillside that overlooked the Pacific Ocean.

  “Is anyone home?” Linette asked, noticing the light shining from inside the huge house.

  “I certainly hope not,” was all Cain would say. He helped her out of the car, lifted the suitcase from the trunk, and led the way up a brick-lined pathway. “This place belongs to a friend of mine.”

  “Have I met him?”

  “No. Fact is, until just a few days ago, I hadn’t talked to him in over ten years. He told me that if I ever needed a retreat, I should give him a call. I phoned last week.”

  “Ten years, and he still remembered you?”

  “He remembered. I saved his life.” After digging the key out of his side pocket, Cain inserted it into the lock and pushed open the door. He propped the suitcases against the door to hold it open and then effortlessly lifted Linette into his arms. Their eyes met, and he smiled meaningfully.

  Linette linked her arms around his neck as he carried her over the threshold. They kissed long and passionately. The wind howled behind them, and reluctantly Cain set her feet back on the floor and dealt with the luggage.

  While he was tucking away their suitcases in the back bedroom, Linette explored the house. Huge picture windows looked out over the churning Pacific Ocean, but night blocked out the majority of the view.

  Hearing movement behind her, Linette turned to discover Cain standing on the opposite side of the room. His hands were buried in his pants pockets.

  “I imagine the view’s lovely in daylight,” he said.

  If Linette hadn’t known better, she would have thought her husband of less than four hours was nervous.

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, glancing toward the kitchen. “The refrigerator’s stocked with enough food to last us a week or longer.”

  “I’m famished.”

  “Great.” Cain moved eagerly toward the other room. “I’ll see to dinner.”

  “My appetite isn’t for food, Cain McClellan,” she chided him, her voice low and breathless. “It’s being your wife that strongly appeals to me.” Anxious herself, Linette could have sworn her heart beat like cymbals crashing against each other.

  Cain smiled, and Linette was certain she’d never seen a man look more relieved. “I wondered how I was going to manage to sit through a meal and not ravish you.” He ate up the distance between them in two giant strides. He reached for her and brought her into his arms.

  Cain swore he’d never known pleasure this profound. Over the course of their wedding night, they’d made love twice. Linette had wept when she’d viewed the thick, still pink scars that marked his body. Not wanting anything to distract her, he’d turned out the light.

  Cain glanced toward the digital clock on the nightstand. It was almost four. Dawn was hours away yet. Linette breathed evenly and snuggled up against his side. He urged her head onto his shoulder, and she draped her hand over his abdomen. In that moment Cain would have rather died than move.

  He’d never experienced contentment like this. Physically he was sated, but it was his emotions that he found himself analyzing. So this was what it meant to love someone so much that it brought a physical ache just thinking about it. So this was what it meant to give your heart completely to another.

  Cain had been afraid. He’d been terrified commitment to Linette would mean surrendering a part of himself. He’d been wrong, very wrong. Only now did he realize how deeply he’d cheated himself in the last year. In loving Linette, he’d realized he was the receiver. Her love had made him whole. Her tenderness had wiped away the pain of a bitter childhood, the need to prove himself, the drive to gain the attention and approval of an alcoholic father—a man incapable of giving either. A father long dead and long buried.

  “What time is it?” Linette asked in a husky whisper.

  “You’re awake?”

  “Not really. I’m just curious about the time.” She remained exactly as she was, her ear pressed over his heart, her arm draped over his middle.

  Cain grinned. “About four.”

  “You couldn’t sleep?”

  “I woke up.”

  She started to pull away. “You’re not accustomed to sleeping with anyone, and I—”

  “No,” he interrupted, stopping her. “Don’t move.”

  Linette went still. “So you are accustomed to sleeping with someone?”

  He chuckled. “No. You sound jealous.”

  “Should I be?”

  He weighed his words carefully. Heaven would vouch he was no saint. Never had been and probably never would be. “There hasn’t been another woman from the moment I met you.”

  Linette’s body relaxed against his. “I love you, Cain McClellan.”

  He closed his eyes and kissed the crown of her head. “And I love you.” He stroked her bare back and was surprised at the ready way his body fired to life. His one concern before he’d asked Linette to marry him had been his health. The doctors had claimed it would take a good deal of time to recover from the gunshot wound. It embarrassed him to inquire about his sexual stamina, but his questions had been greeted with professional ease. The doctor didn’t know for certain, but he speculated that in light of Cain’s injuries, his physical endurance would be limited.

  His physician, however, wasn’t married to Linette. To Cain’s relief and delight, he discovered his recovery time from lovemaking was amazingly quick.

  His hand descended lower and cupped her bare buttock. “Linette?” he quizzed softly.

  “Humm?”

  “Just how asleep are you?”

  He felt her smile against his bare chest. “What makes you ask?”

  “I don’t know,” he hedged. “Idle curiosity, I guess, and the fact I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”

  “I like your hands on me,” she assured him. Edging upward, she slid her glorious body over him, tantalizing him until she located his earlobe and caught it between her teeth.

  Two could play that game, Cain decided, and rolled his head to one side to capture her nipple between his lips. His hands bunched her breasts, and he slid his moist mouth between the two extended nipples, creating a moist, slick trail between the peaks. He paid equal attention to the two and smiled in gratitude when he realized Linette had gone still.

  “I love your breasts,” Cain told her before capturing one and sucking deep and hard.

  Linette squirmed. “I love what you do to them,” she said in a husky whisper.

  Cain eased his hand between her thighs. She parted her legs to grant him easy access and eased her weight onto her side. Cain rolled so that they were facing each other.

  “I…we just, I mean…”

  “Sh-h,” he said, and lifted her leg and placed it over his hip, urging the lower half of her body closer to his rigid staff, which throbbed in readiness.

  Linette rolled her head back and sighed as he linked their bodies. Cain swallowed a deep moan. It wasn’t supposed to be this good. Pressing his hand against the side of her hip, he braced himself against the onslaught to pleasure. He moved
without the haste and urgency that had ruled their previous lovemaking.

  “Cain,” Linette pleaded, raising her hips, silently demanding that he make love to her.

  His hands stilled her efforts. When he spoke, his voice revealed the effort it demanded not to give in to her command. “Not this time,” he whispered, panting for control. “We’re going to do this slow.”

  “I can’t wait.” She writhed mindlessly against him, clenching his shoulders as she worked the lower half of her body against him.

  Cain found he couldn’t wait, either. He possessed her with a love and tenderness unlike anything he had experienced with other women. She carried him to paradise and back, until he was convinced he would have gladly died right then and there. It might have been hours or only minutes, Cain could only speculate, before he floated back to earth.

  Linette lay beside him quietly, cradled close against his long, muscled length. Their legs were entwined, their arms wrapped around each other. Cain brushed a kiss across her cheek. Her eyes were closed, and she smiled dreamily.

  “A woman could become accustomed to this kind of attention,” she whispered.

  Cain grinned. “I wonder when I’m going to have time to learn about cattle ranching. I’d much rather spend time in bed with you.”

  Linette smiled lazily. “You’ll learn. We both will.”

  Cain understood what she was saying. This was a change of lifestyle for them both. They’d relinquished the past and grabbed hold of the future without looking back, without regrets. At least not yet. Linette had sold her knitting shop to Bonnie. She hadn’t said much about letting go of the business, but Cain recognized the sacrifice it had entailed. Wild and Wooly had given her purpose following Michael’s death. She’d funneled her energy into the business. The shop represented the life she’d built stone upon stone, one day at a time, after losing her first husband. Yet she’d freely relinquished this part of herself in order to marry him. It had been no small sacrifice.

  She was the prettiest woman in the cantina, and Jack Keller swore she’d been watching him from the moment he’d arrived. He’d come to quench his thirst, but if a saucy señorita was interested in adding a bit of spice to his afternoon, Jack wasn’t opposed. He didn’t have anything better to do with his time. Killing an hour or two in bed was just the tonic he needed, he mused.

  Murphy had sent him on assignment to this godforsaken stinkhole. If Cain had been the one issuing the orders, he wouldn’t have minded, but this was Murphy. It didn’t seem right to be taking orders from anyone other than Cain.

  As far as Jack was concerned, the new owner of Deliverance Company had a lot to learn. It would be a long time before Murphy was the caliber of leader Cain McClellan had been.

  Cain married. Mallory, too. Disgusted, Jack shook his head. It didn’t sit right with him or the other team members. What was this world coming to, when two of the best fighting men he’d ever known allowed themselves to fall into the worst trap of all? Marriage.

  This new lifestyle was inconsistent with everything Jack knew about his colleagues. He couldn’t speak for the others, but he was hoping that after a few months of pandering to a wife, Cain would come to his senses and return to Deliverance Company. This was where he belonged. Try as he might, he couldn’t picture Cain with a ring through his nose.

  Jack took a deep swallow of the cold beer and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Carrying the chipped mug with him, he strolled over to where the young lady sat.

  “Care if I join you?” he asked her in Spanish.

  She fluttered her eyelashes and shrugged one delicate shoulder. “Feel free,” she responded.

  Jack pulled out a chair, twisted it around, and straddled it. He took another drink of his beer and called for the bartender and ordered two more, one for him and the other for the girl.

  “You got a name?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he teased. “What about you?”

  “Zita.”

  “Pretty name for a pretty lady.” That had to be the oldest line in the book, but one look told him she wasn’t interested in his wit.

  “Thank you.”

  The bartender delivered two more mugs, and Jack paid him. Zita reached across the table for the beer, and Jack noticed that she bent low to be sure he received an ample view of her wares. Her breasts were large and lush, the size of cantaloupes. Jack wished more women were inclined to wear blouses with elastic necklines. It made access to their breasts easier than fiddling with all those silly buttons.

  “How much?” he asked, getting to the point. There was no need to be coy. He knew what she was.

  She cast him a hot look. “You insult me.”

  He laughed, and wanting her to think he didn’t have much time, he checked his watch. “I doubt anyone’s capable of offending you.”

  Keep your pants zipped. That was something Cain had said often enough and loud enough. Only Cain wasn’t running the show any longer, Murphy was.

  “Another time, then,” Jack said, setting aside his beer.

  “Wait,” Zita said quickly, and slipped her hand across his thigh, her long nails digging into the hard muscle there. “Don’t go. Not yet.”

  Jack cast her a half smile. “Then give me a reason to stay.”

  She slid her hand slightly forward toward his crotch and splayed her fingers like a cat flexing its claws. “I’m very good,” she said under her breath.

  “I believe you.” Already Jack could feel the hot blood racing through his veins.

  “I don’t come cheap.”

  “I didn’t think you did.”

  “I have a place with a clean bed close by.”

  He hid a smile. “That’s a plus.”

  “You’ll pay me first?”

  Jack hesitated. “Half now. Half later.”

  She grinned and nodded. “Follow me.”

  Jack stood and followed the woman out of the cantina. Her hips swayed as she hurried across the courtyard. “Hey,” Jack said, calling after her, “what’s the hurry?”

  “No hurry,” she assured him, placing a hand on her hip and tossing him a slow, sexual smile.

  Impatient to sample her wares, Jack caught her by the shoulder and turned into a nearby alley. Her back was against a wall as she looked up at him with deep chocolate eyes. Slowly Jack lowered his mouth to hers. She tasted of warm beer and passion. He could live without the stale taste of beer, but the passion excited him. Entwining his fingers in her thick dark hair, he kissed her again.

  She squirmed against him. “Not here,” she said, pushing against him.

  “Why not?” He looked around, and not seeing anyone close, he reached under her skirt and slid his hand over her bare buttocks.

  “My house is very close,” she promised.

  The way Jack was feeling just then, “very close” wasn’t near enough. Rarely had he been this hot for a woman, but it had been a good long while since he’d given in to his baser needs. Apparently too long.

  “Please, Señor,” she pleaded softly.

  Jack dragged a cooling breath through his lungs. “All right,” he mumbled.

  She relaxed against him and kissed him long and hard. Then, taking him by the hand, she led him down a narrow side street. Jack was in too much of a rush to notice much about which way they were headed. He was fairly certain he’d find his way back to the cantina without a problem.

  Smiling up at him, she unlocked the door and threw it open. Once more Jack reached for her, turned her into his arms, and kissed her lustily. His hands were on her breasts as he eased her through the doorway. His intention was to steer her toward the bedroom and have his way with her. Heaven would testify she was willing enough.

  Jack opened his eyes, and it felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. There, sitting at the rough wood table, was a man, eating casually with one hand. In the other was a pistol pointed directly at Jack’s heart.

  “Welcome to hell, Jack Keller,” he said with a sick laugh, licking the fi
ngertips of his free hand. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  Jack backed away from Zita, his blood turning cold. He did recognize the other man. The last time he’d seen this gunman, the desperado had been standing in the belly of a helicopter with his weapon trained on Cain McClellan.

  “Trust me. Before the day is over, you will remember everything,” the man said. “You will curse God that your friend didn’t die the first time.”

  16

  “If you’re going to be a real cowboy, I suspect I should teach you the code,” John Stamp said casually to Cain.

  “Code?” Cain shifted his weight atop the large sorrel and studied the rolling snow-covered hillside, hoping to familiarize himself with the landscape.

  “To the best of my knowledge it’s nothing that’s formally written down. It’s a way of thinking and acting. You’d pick it up sooner or later.”

  “Be easier if you told me outright, wouldn’t it?” Cain commented. He’d been working with John every day for the past three weeks, harder, he swore, than he’d ever worked in his life. Each night he returned to Linette with his head crammed full of things he’d learned about his land and his herd of cattle, his head buzzing with the certainty he could work this land for the next fifty years and still be a greenhorn.

  “I believe you’ve already figured out how important it is to close gates.”

  Cain snickered at the memory of his first day riding with John. “I’ve got that one down pat.”

  “Good.”

  “Also, it’s not a good idea to keep someone waiting for you.”

  Cain eyed the foreman speculatively. “You told the women that? I swear it takes five minutes longer after Linette claims she’s ready to leave.”

  “So the honeymoon’s over, is it?” John said teasingly.

  Actually it wasn’t. Cain had adjusted with little trouble to married life, which surprised him. He’d expected they’d need to adapt more to each other’s ways than they had. Naturally, being crazy in love helped. As for the honeymoon part, he felt as frisky as someone fifteen years his junior. Cain had never considered himself especially oversexed, but that had changed since his marriage. It amazed him how frequently he needed his wife.