Oklahoma Sky

by Jillian Neal

  "I love you, too. I know I keep saying not to take things slow anymore, but maybe let’s just slow down on this point if you don't mind."

  "Done. You ready to go get lost?"

  Relief washed over Callie with such force it made her dizzy. She clung to him until all of her bodily functions returned to their jobs.

  Okay, so Ford didn't know how not to go after what he wanted. He thought he'd recovered from that slip fairly well. Maybe. If he could just keep his mouth shut and work her into the idea slowly, this would still work. He just had to keep all thoughts of marriage to himself. But god, he wanted it.

  He wanted her safe in his bed for the rest of his life. Wanted to see her beautiful body swollen full of his babies. Wanted to be there for every single thing that life would inevitably hurl at them. He just wanted her.

  "Whose house is that?" she asked as he drove them slowly across the ranch in a different direction than he’d taken her before. He was determined to let her see all of its glory.

  "That's Jamie's house. He wanted the view from the ridge and wanted to be close to the gates in case he gets a call in the middle of the night, so he built it here. That's Charlie Tilson's Chevy parked out in front though."

  "Why would he get a call in the middle of the night?"

  Ford genuinely loved how curious she was about all things. "He's not just a cattle rancher. He also works for the Holder County Fire Department."

  "Oh wow. And who is Charlie Tilson?"

  "Friend of his. They've been friends since they were kids actually. Her daddy's the preacher of the Methodist church. He don't much like us, but that never kept the two of 'em from being friends."

  "So, Charlie is a girl?" She grinned at that.

  "Short for Charlotte. Sorry, I forget you didn't come up here."

  "I always used to wish I did. I always felt like an outsider when I visited. Like I was the only person in the whole county who didn't get the inside jokes or something. Plus, it seemed idyllic, until my dad walked in the room anyway."

  She'd been fairly adamant that she did not want to discuss her father anymore, so Ford took a long moment to consider, afraid of sticking his boot in his mouth again. "It was a pretty good place to come up, but it had its issues, too. I don't guess anywhere is perfect."

  She gave him that grin that eased the jagged edges of their relationship that he'd rubbed raw earlier. "Right here, right now it feels pretty perfect."

  "Just have to keep you thinking that way, sugar."

  "So, why doesn't Charlie's daddy like you?" Her teeth sank into those perpetually pouty lips, and Ford pressed the truck faster. He needed to get her where they were going so he could get her in the back of his truck and make up for his missteps.

  "He thinks the Holder boys run too wild too often. He ain't necessarily wrong. He also isn't the only person with that opinion. Your daddy alluded to it the other night. There's a fair amount of resentment about my family. We've tried to improve our image since my great-granddaddy passed. He encouraged the wrong things both from my grandfather, my dad, all of my uncles, and then us, too. Always wanted his boys to think they were the shit. Now my daddy's in charge of damage control, I guess. Great-granddaddy Holder was destructive."

  Callie visibly considered that. "Maybe that's why Nana keeps trying to warn me off."

  "Maybe." But Ford doubted his family’s reputation was all there was to it though.

  "Is that why you replaced the barn roof?" Disappointment tugged at her tone.

  Ford laid her hand on his thigh and squeezed it. "No, baby. That was because it was the right thing to do to help a neighbor out, especially the neighbor who helped bring up my girl."

  She grinned at that. "Is it bad that I kind of wish my dad had been wrong? It's like I've always wanted to have him dead to rights on something. I feel like he always skates by, never getting called on all the things he does wrong."

  "Nothing wrong with wanting people who did you wrong to pay, but sometimes the peace that comes from just keeping them out of your life is worth more than the payoff from seeing them suffer."

  "Is that how you feel about Meritt?"

  "Most definitely."

  She asked more questions as they drove, and he told her everything he knew about his ranch. Whose families had lived where and when they'd lived there, a few stories his daddy and uncles reveled in, and then a few of the stunts he and his brothers pulled back in their day. “One time when I was about ten or eleven, Jamie and I had the great idea that him and Wes and Dalton could all sit in the loader on the tractor, and I could lift them up on the barn roof. The plan was that they could run to the other side and jump into the hay bales. There ain’t much reasoning with a ten-year-old who just learned to drive a tractor. Anyway, I almost drove them into the side of the barn, which woulda torn up the tractor and my brothers, before my Uncle Wyn caught us.” He shook his head at the memory.

  By the time he pulled up to the creek bed on the far side of Holder Ranch, she was beaming. "I love how much you love this land and your family."

  "I never wanted to be anything other than a cattle rancher. I'm so damn lucky to be doing what I do, but I didn't think that six weeks ago. All of that came from you."

  "Wow," she whispered. "Thank you for saying that."

  "Thank you for being here with me."

  "What are we going to do here in this extremely romantic spot?"

  Ford had hoped she'd think the views from the creek were as pretty as he did. Pleased, he opened his door. "I'm going to spread those quilts out in the back and then I'm going to try to talk you into letting me get to second base."

  Her infectious laughter mended so many of his ragged edges. "I might let you get further than that if you're lucky."

  He gave her the growl she was after. "Oh honey, I'm about to get that way. Trust me."

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Callie let Ford lift her onto the tailgate beside him. It was so easy to be transported to the past here where time seemed to have left no mark. She imagined that the bed of this particular creek, tucked away in the cypress trees, had looked the same way ten years ago or maybe even a hundred years ago. It was unfathomable to her that this ranch had been right here for even longer than that. The permanence of it contented her much the way being near Ford always did.

  "Where's my girl?" he whispered.

  "I was just thinking about how long your family has owned this land. I don't know if it would be reassuring to have grown up here, knowing that right where you stood would still be yours for another hundred years, or if it would be intimidating to have the whole county relying on you."

  "It's both," he assured her. "We try to be everything to everyone, and that ain't easy. But not having to worry about how you'll get along in the world is worth more than every dollar we have in the bank. The peace here—I wouldn't trade it, you know?"

  She cuddled against him. "I do know. That's how I feel when you hold me."

  "Yeah?" He still didn't fully understand what he did to her. Maybe it was high time she showed him.

  "Definitely."

  "Then let me do it right, sugar." He scooted back in the bed, leaned up against the back window, and beckoned her.

  He wasn't going to have to ask her twice. She crawled to him as seductively as she could manage in the bed of a pickup.

  Something about the way he held her in those massive capable hands and the way the water lapped at the shoreline, the way time existed in that moment just for the two of them, gave her not only contentment but confidence. No one knew where they were, and there was something she wanted so much she couldn't help but ask.

  "Hey Ford," her voice was barely a whisper.

  "Ask me, sugar bee," he coaxed.

  "How did you know I wanted to ask something?"

  "You get this little inquisitive glint in your eyes, and you get hesitant for a minute. Cutest thing I've ever seen. I love getting to answer your questions. So, ask me."

  Callie debated exactly where
to begin. The fantasy had formed slowly in her mind over the last few days until it had overtaken her ability to talk herself out of it. It had stirred in her dreams the night before when she'd been alone, strong and insistent. She'd awoken grinding against her mattress sweaty and wet with need, but he hadn't been there. The absence had only strengthened the desire to have him fulfill this particular fantasy.

  Drawing a steadying breath, she swallowed down the tangle of nerves in her throat. "Do you ever...fantasize about us...about me, I mean?"

  "I love where this is going. Hell yeah, I do. Most of them are filthy, so I hadn't brought too many up."

  Pleased to hear that, she nodded against his substantial chest. "What if I wanted you to bring them up? What if I wanted to fulfill them?"

  With one of his hungry grunts, he eased them to their sides so he could stare into her eyes. His intensity filled the air around them. She'd had sex with him so many times, but she wasn't sure anything had been as intimate as having this particular conversation.

  He caressed her cheek and then tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "What is it you're needing from me, baby doll? What are you so afraid to ask for? You know I'll do anything you want. For fucksakes, I'm incapable of telling you no."

  He really was, and that only made this more difficult somehow. "It's kind of scandalous maybe." Wishing he really could read her mind so she didn't necessarily have to speak this aloud, she paused and let the gentle breeze fill her lungs.

  "I doubt you're going to shock me. Like I said, most of mine are pretty damn filthy. Say it. Whatever it is."

  She couldn't look at him anymore. Not when she was about to ask for this particular thing. "What if you're appalled or something?"

  His rough-hewn fingertips lifted her chin back up so she had nowhere to look but in his eyes. "How about if I swear to you it won't throw me? I'd say Scout’s honor, but that seems like the wrong choice for this particular topic." He brushed a tender kiss on her lips and then took another, longer exploration of her mouth.

  His ability to always put her at ease, even when she was at her most awkward, drew the confession from her in bits and pieces. "What if I had grown up here?" Her heart pounded out a frantic SOS in her throat, but the need kept her talking. "What if I'd been friends with Dalton or maybe Meridian in school so I'd gotten to hang out here on the ranch when I was younger? What if everything had been different?"

  A harsh swallow contracted his throat as he stared her down.

  Her words sank through him drowning him in unadulterated lust. She was only two years younger than Dalton and was the same age as his cousin. If everything had been different most certainly meant what if Meritt had never existed. "Keep going," rumbled from his chest. "Tell me." He ran his thumb along the delicate skin of her neck, watching as she debated so unnecessarily. "What if I was just eighteen?"

  Holy fuck. He highly suspected she'd made herself legal in this particular fantasy so he wouldn't shut it down. As if he would be capable of turning her down on most anything. "It still would've been wrong," he forced the words from his ashen throat. Hell, he would've been in his early thirties. It would have been very wrong.

  "I know, but it's just a fantasy, right? We could just pretend."

  Holy mother of god she was killing him. He was going to hell just for the thoughts rapid-firing in his brain. There was no saving him now. "Pretend what exactly, honey?"

  She ran her fingertips down his chest inflaming him at the barest touch. "What if I told you that I thought your brothers were great, but that I'd had a crush on you for a long time? That you made me feel things I didn't understand. That I needed you to help me understand."

  The beast housed in his soul tore at the chains he tried to keep it dammed in. A half-starved growl rumbled from Ford's chest.

  She kept going, stoking the flames of the inferno she'd ignited. The embers danced in her eyes. "What if I told you I hurt? That I need you to make it better?"

  "Show me where you hurt, baby," he demanded, gruff and urgent. He'd deal with hell later. Satan could have his way with him when he was done. He was going to heaven first. Healing the wounds from her past was most certainly something he'd wished he could do. That might've been impossible, but giving her this, fulfilling this naughty little fantasy she had, well he sure as fuck could do that.

  Her eyes closed, and a breath hitched from her lungs. She placed a small, timid hand on top of his and guided him to her pussy. She was fevered to the touch, even through her jeans. When she rocked against his seeking hand, he damn near lost his mind. Her eyes blinked open a moment later. "What if I told you that I didn't know how to touch a man, but that I spent all of my time imagining you teaching me to touch you?"

  A rush of hunger tore through him, violently stripping away all notions of right and wrong, all precedence, every foundation he'd ever clung to. There was nothing left but her needy questions and his desperate answers. He was shamefully hard, making it impossible to try to turn this wicked game to a slightly tamer version. And her triumphant grin said she knew he was going to give this to her, to be this for her.

  Somehow, she reached through all of the bullshit he'd endured and managed to resurrect both the man he'd thought he was supposed to be and the one he really was. She united him, aligned him, and inflamed him. He was woefully gone, and there was no coming back.

  "Is that what you need, sweetheart? You need me to teach you how to be with a man?"

  "No," she whispered. Her eyes were suddenly alight with truth. A coy grin turned up the corners of that beautiful mouth. "I need you to teach me how to be with a cowboy."

  She rocked that cocktease body of hers against his own. He knew fulfilling her fantasies would be the single most satisfying thing he'd ever do. She palmed his painfully stiff erection, somehow managing hesitation and temerity. Perhaps a better actor than he was.

  But he'd sure as hell make do. Slipping into a slightly younger and far less moral version of himself, he tucked her to him and cradled her head in the crook of his neck. Her hot breath taunted and teased his skin. "It feels so empty doesn't it, but it doesn't just hurt there does it, baby?" He dragged his rope-worn fingertips over the top swells of her breasts. She shuddered for him. Her body pitched as wild as a midwestern storm. "They're swollen aren't they. Sensitive for me?"

  "Yes," whimpered from her deliciously.

  "Let me see. Let me make it better." Keeping his eyes locked on hers, making certain they were both grounded in this moment of the fantasy, he slipped one button of her shirt through its loop watching the juxtaposition of her shiver under the heat of his gaze.

  Another harsh grunt vaulted from his throat as he revealed her deliciously innocent white lace bra. Another button. Another pitch of her body. She was so needy for him he was going to lose what was left of his mind.

  "Please, please," she urged. Her hands pawed at him like a kitten frantic for his affections.

  "Let me enjoy this, sweet baby. I know it hurts." He knew his part. Hell, he'd been with more than one virgin. Girls who'd ponied up their cherry just to be one of his conquests had been the name of his game in his wild youth. That was yet another reason he'd deserved what Meritt had done.

  He wondered momentarily if Callie had planned this. The white lacy bra protecting her from his roving hands was innocence personified. He parted the last button and eased her out of the shirt. "Let me see you, honey. Let me see that sweet little body you're needing me to take care of."

  The wind rippled across the creek, splitting a shallow crevice in the water, and shook the leaves of the trees surrounding them. He pulled her closer, blocking her from the chill, protecting his baby always.

  Restless waves of need continued to break over her body. She squirmed against him. Calling on skills he'd perfected decades before, he popped the back clasp of her bra with one hand. Her breasts spilled forward pulling the straps of the bra off of her shoulders. "Fucking love your tits," he groaned out pure truth. His taut control continued to s
lip gradually out of his grasp. "I wanna unload all over them. Mark them all for me."

  Those dark brown eyes widened with a hunger all her own. "Then do it. Show me who I belong to."

  "Not for your first time, baby." He traced his fingers over her diamond-hard nipples and then trailed them downward and teased at her navel. He took care to remind her of the particular fantasy he wasn't going to let her deny. "Once I know you're ready, I'm gonna ruin you for all other men. It won't be something you can wash away."

  Another hungry moan was the answer to his warning. "Then get me ready," she urged.

  "So impatient for me. Simmer down and let me take what's mine." He flung the bra away and spun his tongue over the turgid peek of her right breast and then the left. The wind taunted her wet flesh making her whimper. He drew her nipple into his mouth and soothed her while he closed his hand over her other breast, giving it equal attention.

  Her nipple pulsed against his palm to the rhythm he'd finally been able to recognize as his own. The erotic harmony they created together was the siren call neither of them seemed able to resist.

  He understood what she was trying to recreate. He got that she needed to be the girl in the back of his truck because she was the only one he'd ever had back there that would ever matter. If she wanted a moment to recreate the past they would never have, then by the might of his own two hands he would build it for her.

  Her head fell back pressing her tit deeper into his mouth. Ragged possession scorched his blood. Ford grabbed another quilt from beside him and draped it over her. Only he would see her bare. He would keep her warm. He would own her so thoroughly she wouldn't think of leaving ever again.