by Jennie Marts
He untied the blanket and spread it on the ground in front of the tree. The large roots snaked in and out of the ground, forming a perfect hollow where they could sit and lean back against the tree. “You can rest here while I collect some wood to make a fire.”
“I can help,” she said, already searching the ground for loose branches.
He chuckled. “Somehow I knew you’d say that.”
They worked together to collect enough branches and dry wood for Mason to build a small fire, then sank down on the blanket to watch it burn. He grabbed the saddlebag and pulled it toward them.
“I’m dying to see what you brought in that bag,” Tess said, peering over his hand.
“It’s almost worth dying for,” he told her as he drew out a blue metal tin and a mason jar. The jar was filled with chunks of strawberry and slices of lemon floating in a pink liquid.
He lifted the lid on the tin, and the heady scent of chocolate wafted into the air. “These are my mom’s chocolate chip cookies, fresh baked this morning.” He took out a cookie and split it in half, feeding her one side and popping the other half into his mouth.
An explosion of vanilla cookie and thick, chocolaty chips hit her tongue, and she groaned at the delicious flavor. She tried to ignore the fact that there were probably a zillion calories in each and pretended that calories fed to you by a hot cowboy didn’t count. “These are amazing,” she said around the mouthful of cookie.
“I told you. Wait until you try this.” He held up the mason jar. “This is my Mom’s strawberry wine. It was my grandma’s secret recipe, but my mom perfected it and makes a batch every summer. It’s a little sweet, but I think you’re gonna like it.”
“I love anything that starts with, ‘This was my grandma’s secret recipe.’”
He twisted off the lid.
“Did you bring glasses too?”
“No, babe. Strawberry wine is best when you drink it straight out of the jar.” He held the jar to her lips and tipped it slightly forward.
Had she ever drunk anything out of a mason jar before? She couldn’t think of when, but there were a lot of new Mason experiences she was trying, and so far all of them had rocked her world and turned out to be amazing. She hesitantly took a sip. A piece of strawberry slipped in, and she bit into it as she swallowed.
The wine was sweet, but the mixture of strawberries and lemon gave it a bit of a tart bite. The fruity flavor combined with the tang of the alcohol gave it a kick, and the flavors mixed deliciously with the chocolate of the cookie she’d just eaten.
She was a fan. “It’s good. Delicious.” She took another drink.
“I told you.” He took a swig, and they passed the jar back and forth between them, sharing the sweet wine.
It went down as smoothly as actual lemonade, and it didn’t take long for them to polish off the cookies and most of the wine.
Tess’s head felt a little spinny, but her body felt loose and light. She let out a sigh as she leaned back on her elbows. Everything about this day seemed perfect. The campfire, the sweet strawberry wine, the blanket laid out in front of the most beautiful lake. And the gorgeous man who sat beside her, absently running his fingers along the edge of her bare leg.
He had his back against the tree, leaning casually against it as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He’d taken off his hat and hung it on a branch, and a light breeze picked up a strand of his black hair and blew it sideways.
He was so gorgeous. Looking at him made it hard for her to breathe.
She wanted him so much. Wanted so much for all of this to be real.
She’d had too much wine, and she was feeling way too good. Which was usually right around the time she got herself into trouble.
“Thanks for bringing me here. It’s wonderful,” she said, slurring the last word just the slightest bit.
“I knew you would like it.”
I like you. A lot.
She wanted to say it, but she couldn’t. “Do you bring all your ‘girls’ up here?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I haven’t ever brought anyone up here. I mean, I’ve been here with my family, but I’ve never brought a woman here.”
I’m the first woman he’s brought here. That has to mean something.
“I guess that makes me special.” She let out a tiny hiccup.
“Yeah, it definitely makes you special. This is one of my favorite places, and I wanted to share it with you. I guess because you’re becoming one of my favorite people.” He brushed at a bit of dust that had settled on the knee of his jeans. “Sorry, that sounded stupid.”
“I think it sounded sweet.”
“You’re sweet.” He jerked a thumb at the lake. “The water’s a little cold, but I was thinking maybe we could go skinny-dipping.”
She nudged his shoulder. “I swear it seems like every time I’m with you, we’re doing something that gets me wet.” She felt her eyes widen.
Oh. My. Gosh. She couldn’t believe she’d said that.
A naughty grin played across his lips.
She held up her hands, fighting the giggle bubbling up inside her. “I didn’t mean it like that…” She stopped. Maybe she did. Swallowing the giggle, she took a breath, gathering her courage, then climbed over him.
Straddling his lap, she offered him a coy smile. “Actually, I did mean it like that.”
His face split into a sexy smile.
“And furthermore, I think we should forgo the dipping, and get straight to the skinny.” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head, then tossed it to the ground next to the blanket.
Chapter 17
Tess was blaming it on the wine.
It had to be the mixture of the alcohol and her newfound brazenness that had her straddling Mason, whipping her shirt off, and practically demanding he take her now.
“You make a convincing argument,” Mason said, gazing down at her lacy bra. “I have to agree. The skinny is always the best part anyway.”
Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she reached for the elastic, sliding it out and letting her hair fall free. Using her fingers, she combed through her hair, shaking her head to let the curls fall loosely around her shoulders.
He reached up, running his hands through the strands, all the while holding her gaze. His fingers trailed down her neck, then slid under her bra strap and drew it slowly down her shoulder.
She caught her breath, heat swirling in her stomach, as he sat forward and placed a kiss on the soft dent in her shoulder where her strap had been. His hands smoothed up her back, easily unsnapping her bra and pulling it free of her body.
His fingers tickled her skin as he skimmed them along her ribs before cupping one of her breasts in his palm. He dipped his head and ran his tongue along the top curve. Her nipples tightened with the combination of being exposed and anticipation of his touch.
Moving his head lower, he breathed on the taut, hard nub, then sucked it between his lips.
She let out a gasp, feeling the pull of it down to her toes as sparks of sensation surged through her body.
He slipped his hands around her waist, holding her captive as his mouth did delicious things to her breasts, sucking and licking, nibbling at the tender nubs and sending waves of heat to her already sensitive core. She moved her hips, rubbing against him, and loved the small moan he released against her breast.
Lifting his head, he dragged her chest to his and took her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. She gripped his shoulders, riding his hips to create a delicious friction.
His fingers fumbled with the button of her shorts, finally freeing it and sliding down the zipper. “I want you naked,” he demanded against her mouth, then lifted her and easily turned her over so she was lying on the blanket under him. He tugged her shorts and panties down her legs, leaving her fully naked and panting on the blan
ket as he yanked his shirt over his head. His boots came off next, then he stood to shimmy out of his jeans.
Her gaze traveled the length of him, taking in every muscle, every solid plane, every hard inch of him. And he had plenty of muscles and plenty of inches.
“I hope that saddlebag also has some condoms in it,” she said, her voice husky with need.
“It doesn’t.”
“What?” she cried.
An impish grin spread across his face as he pulled several packets from his jeans pocket. “But I did bring some. You know, just in case.”
“Thank goodness.” She returned his naughty grin. “I hope you brought enough.”
He let out a chuckle. “Damn woman, I do like you.” Dropping most of the packets to the blankets, he kept one in his hand, quickly ripping it open and covering himself before he settled between her knees.
He brushed his fingertips along her stomach, a caress so light and tender she shivered with the need for more. “Your skin is so soft,” he whispered, his voice achingly sweet. He slid his hand lower, slowly skimming his fingertips along her thighs, then into the crevice between her legs.
She arched her hips, already anticipating, craving his touch. A gasp escaped her, and she closed her eyes, focusing on the circular motions of his hand. Heat centered and pooled between her legs, and her chest rose and fell as she struggled to fill her lungs. She wanted this man so much. Wanted to feel him, to touch him, to know every part of him.
Another gasp as he took his hand away and filled her instead, completing the ultimate connection between them.
Intertwining his fingers with hers, he lifted her hand above her head and laid a trail of hot, greedy kisses along her neck before taking her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue thrust deeply, his hunger consuming her, as their bodies moved in rhythm, already seeming to know what the other one needed.
She threw back her head, lifting her hips as circles of liquid bliss grew tighter, swirling with growing intensity in the quivering spot of sensation between her thighs and bringing pure deliciousness to every cell in her body.
With her free hand, she gripped his shoulder, holding on as he moaned into her mouth, the vibration echoing through her body.
Every sensation built upon the last, until the tension had her ready to explode.
Panting, desperate for breath, hungry for release, she finally cried out as the warm waves of satisfaction rolled through her.
He tightened his grip on her hand, then tensed and shuddered, matching her release as a low growl escaped him.
He collapsed on top of her, clutching her body to his as he buried his face in her neck and sighed into her skin.
A contented smile curved her lips as she wrapped herself around him, reveling in the weight of his body on hers and the warm, intimate connection.
* * *
It was just getting dark by the time they made it back to the bunkhouse, and the night had started to cool.
Mason took off his boots and built a fire while Tess fed the dogs and made herself and Mason each a cup of hot tea.
It all felt very cozy and domestic as they sat together on the sofa, the fire crackling and popping and the two dogs curled together at their feet. Mason’s arm rested along the back of the sofa, while his long legs stretched out across the coffee table.
Tessa cradled the warm mug in her hands, her feet tucked under her as she sat next to him. “I was thinking about how this whole thing has happened so fast and that maybe we should slow things down a little and just spend some time talking. You know, try to get to know a little more about each other.”
“I feel like I’ve gotten to know you pretty well.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
She laughed. “Not in the Biblical sense.”
“The Biblical sense, huh? Are you going to take me to church now?”
“Stop it. You know what I mean. Get to know each other more intimately. Like figuring out things that we like or don’t like.” Like a real couple. She caught herself before she said it. But that’s what she wanted them to be. Not just having a couple of dates, but starting a real relationship. They certainly felt like a “real” couple to her already. That thing he’d done to her up at the lake was real enough anyway. But that was sex, and sex could feel real without having real feelings involved.
He ran his finger lightly down the side of her arm. “So how about I pick a new place to kiss you, and you tell me if you like it or not.”
She rolled her eyes. “So maybe intimately was not the best choice of words. Let’s make it easy. How about we start with you telling me three things that you love.”
“Okay, that’s easy. God, my country, and my mom.”
Hmm. “That was easy.”
He shrugged.
“But I already knew all of those. I was thinking of maybe three things that you love that I don’t already know about. Things that I would only know if we had actually spent a lot of time together.”
“Hmm. Well, I love listening to Johnny Cash and Merle Haggard, and I love my mom’s fried chicken and pretty much anything with maple frosting smeared on it.” He wiggled his eyebrows again. “And I do mean anything.”
Oh. My. Quick, where can we find some maple frosting?
She nudged his arm. “Stay focused.” She was telling herself as well. Although it was hard to remain intent on anything other than the sexy cowboy sitting next to her who was gazing at her as if he wanted to eat her up—maple frosting or not. “Tell me what else you love.”
“I don’t know. I love a cold beer after a hot day, and old John Wayne movies, and I’m partial to peanut butter cups. Is that good?”
“That’s a start.”
“What about you? I already know you love creamer with a little coffee in it, and you like to order a side of mayo to dip your burger in. What else do you love?”
She wrinkled her nose and moved her mouth from side to side. “Well, I love to have my back scratched, and I love crunchy Cheetos. Like, I could eat them every day of my life. And I love to read. I could get lost in a book and spend all day reading.” She shook her head. “I’m terrible at this game because I love tons of stuff. I love soft-serve ice cream and flannel sheets and feather pillows. I love a summer day spent at the pool and going to the movies. And I love, love, love macaroni and cheese. I could eat it until my sides bust.”
“I knew about the mac and cheese from the first night I met you.”
She grinned. “Oh yeah. Then I should probably also add that I love barbecue. That was way more than three, but I’m loving this, so give me more.”
“Fair enough. I love grilled cheese sandwiches and warm pecan pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream melting on top of it. I’m a rancher, so I love the rain, especially a good ground-soaking rain. My livelihood can at times depend on it, but I also just love the sound and the smell of it. And I love getting caught in it with a gorgeous woman.”
She laughed. “Okay, now tell me three things you hate. And they can’t be things everyone hates, like the smell of a dead skunk or stepping in dog poo. But something that only someone that knows you well would know that you hate.”
“Let me think on that. You go first.”
“For starters, I hate onions. Loathe them. And I really hate when people say they’re so small you won’t even notice. I notice.”
“My brother is like that too. He can pick the smallest onion out of any bite of food. So, no onions. Got it. What else?”
“You already know I hate public speaking. Not just hate, but am terrified of it. And I also hate rude people, and oh, I absolutely hate snakes. Now you.”
“All right. I hate rap. I hate it so much, I refuse to call it music. And I hate stupid drivers, and shopping malls, and bank fees. I hate bullies, and mosquito bites, and anyone who knows me well knows that I hate needles. Getting a shot gives me the willies
.”
“That one surprises me. Big, tough cowboy like you hates getting a little shot?”
He shrugged, then narrowed his eyes, his lighthearted expression turning serious. “Something else I hate is the idea of you sleeping in your car again tonight.” He reached for her and pulled her into his lap. “So you have three choices. You can either stay over at my mom’s in one of the guest rooms or, if you feel like you must sleep in your car, you can do it here in front of my house, so at least I know you’re safe.”
“Gah… I don’t like my car that much. What’s the third choice?”
“The third choice is you can stay here…with me.”
“This doesn’t seem like that tough of a choice.”
“So…?”
“So…I’ll stay.”
“With me?”
“Yes. I’ll stay with you.”
“Good.” He dipped his head and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, then nuzzled the side of her neck. “I also love the smell of your hair. Especially when it smells like my shampoo, because that means you’ve been in my shower.”
She liked playing this game, liked learning things about him.
He narrowed his eyes at her, his expression turning serious. “Will you tell me something about you? Something a little more serious than how much you love Cheetos.”
She swallowed. “Sure. What do you want to know?”
“You said earlier that you hadn’t been out on a date in a year.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So why not?”
She shrugged, the blanket of insecurity and self-doubt settling around her shoulders. “I’d rather not say. It’s humiliating.”
His brows knit together. “Did someone hurt you?”
She let out a shuddering sigh, surprised at the prick of tears that could still come so quickly to her eyes. “You could say that.”
“Tell me,” he said, picking up her hand and holding it in his.
Could she? Could she really tell him?
I have to. If I want this to be real.
She had to trust him, to tell him the truth. If she wanted this to be the real deal, then she had to tell him the truth about herself. Not about Rock and the stupid story, but about her. About her story—about what happened to her. And if he didn’t want to see her anymore, then so be it. At least she’d tried.
