by K. F. Breene
If anyone understood not being ready to face the past, it was Sara.
So she gathered up her things quietly, and then gave her friend a deep, heartfelt hug from behind. “I’m here when you’re ready.”
Christie just nodded, holding firm against more tears.
Sometimes, love really sucked.
Sara pulled open the door to a somber-faced Greg. “She okay?” he asked quietly.
“All’s good in the hood, bro. Slap me five.” Sara threw up her hand again.
He put up his own hand. “Hi.” He waved.
“You’re such a douche.”
“You need to come up with something else to call people. That name’s getting old,” Mikey said as she brushed passed Greg with a shaking head and walked toward Mikey down the hall.
“It fits. For both of you,” Sara said, glancing behind to witness Greg walking into the bedroom. He was a sweet guy—he’d try to help. And hopefully, Christie would let him.
“Clever,” Mikey said, sucking her focus back into the moment.
“Yes, I am.”
Mikey slipped his hand behind her back and walked in step, swinging the door open for her when they got there. “Are you ready to knock out another dream?”
“If you dare put me in a sidecar, I will walk right back to my room right now. No sex for you tonight. I mean it.”
He laughed as they walked around the main house and to the parking lot in the front. As their feet hit packed dirt, Mikey held out keys. “All yours.”
“You’re going to make me drive on a date?”
He brought the keys back to his chest. “Absolutely not. What must you think of me?”
Grinning, he clicked the button. Across the parking lot, a BMW SUV blinked at them. A green sign for a car dealership waited in place of a license plate. Not a speck of dirt peeked through the high shine.
Sara’s mouth dropped open. “When did you get this?”
“Brand new. Half a month old. I was going to surprise you for your birthday, but you know how I like to give presents. I couldn’t wait. Besides, I can just get you something else for your birthday.”
Sara calmly peeled his arm away from around her waist. Facing him, she glared. “Are you out of your mind? You can’t possibly be serious.”
His grin spread wider.
“Michael Frost, there is no way you are buying me a car.”
“True. I’ve bought you a car. See the difference in tense? I know it was a long time ago, but you remember learning the English language, yes?”
“Mikey!” Sara pushed him. “There is no way you are buying me a car!”
“Not just any car. A Beemer. I know you wanted a sleek little number when you were younger, but it snows here. An SUV is much safer.”
“Take it back.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling into his beaming smile. “No. This is too much. Sell it.”
“It’s lost a lot of value from being taken off the lot. Afraid you have to keep it for a few years…”
“Mikey,” Sara said on an exasperated sigh, turning back to look at the car. “I don’t even remember wanting a BMW when I was younger.”
He stepped up beside her and draped his arm across her shoulders. “Well, you wanted a luxury automobile. Remember, you always admired the one my mom drove and were mad at your mom because she didn’t have one? You wanted one just like it to cart around your soccer-playing kids.”
A shiver went from the top of her head to her feet. Her hand very nearly drifted to her stomach. It was all happening so fast, but at the same time, the speed was just right. She wanted this. She wanted him, the family, all of it. Right now. She wanted to spend her life with him, and she wanted that life to start right this minute.
She turned to him, the words on her lips. The intent to tell him about the pregnancy bubbling up. But he was looking out to their right toward the ranch. His face had closed down, his smile dwindling and the lethal edge creeping into his eyes.
Duke stood off near the house, his own scowl directed at Mikey.
“May and Dan told him he’d be leaving. Duke is blaming it on me,” Mikey said in a low, gruff voice. “His friends think it’s about you. Seems Duke didn’t tell anyone about sending you up to the wilds. I told Noah to stay out of it. Should be an interesting rest of the season.”
“Let’s go.” Sara urged Mikey toward the car, not liking his suddenly bunched muscles and the edge that had come into his beautiful hazel eyes.
His eyes swung down to hers, the fierceness melting away immediately. “Sorry. Of course.”
Without so much as a look behind them, he led her to the car and opened the door for her. “Madam.”
Her butt sank into the plush leather seat as he crossed around the hood and slid into the car. He started it up, slipped it into gear, and slowly took off.
“How are you after our trip? How’s… everything.” Mikey glanced her way as he turned onto a highway.
Shivers racked her body. Tell him. Tell him you’re pregnant. He’s hinting. He wants to know, just tell him!
Her lips parted, the words on the tip of her tongue. “Good. Not hungry, which is a godsend.”
Coward!
“Yes, it doesn’t take long to forget the worst of the hunger and thirst,” he replied easily, his voice even and unconcerned. “In a few weeks you’ll brush it off as not that bad. Happens to me often. Especially after a particularly rough time out. I hear that’s what happens to women after pregnancy.”
There it was again—a bolder hint. He obviously wanted to talk about it. Ask about it, at least. Except in the woods he’d just come out and asked. He’d been really blunt. Now he was beating around the bush. Was he as nervous as she was? Did he really not want to know?
“This car is really nice, Mikey,” Sara said, her stomach doing flips and waves. She needed a stronger dose of courage.
“You like it?”
She slid her hand along the smooth dash before working with the seat warmer. “It’s the nicest thing I’ve ever ridden in as an adult.”
“I can’t believe that. You didn’t have any friends that did a little frivolous spending?”
“I didn’t really have any friends, period.” Was that her voice that sounded so dour? “I mean, I did. Just… I didn’t hang out with them all that often. Phil got jealous.”
“Of girlfriends? Even when he was out gambling or whatever he did besides look after you?”
“Easy there, killer.” Chuckling, she rubbed his arm. “He didn’t like me spending time with anyone else. Didn’t trust me, obviously, though he always said he didn’t trust other men.”
“And my Sara put up with this? She didn’t give him the knuckle sandwich she was so known for?”
Sara slid her hand along his thigh. He took one hand from the wheel and threaded his fingers through hers. “After a while, I just got used to it,” she said. “It wasn’t worth the fights.”
“Oh good, you come trained. Great. So, I expect a hot meal a half-hour after I walk through the door after work. Because you must know that a man’s day is always long and extremely taxing.”
“Oh yes, of course it is. Much more arduous than a woman’s, even if she worked longer hours.”
“Women don’t work longer hours—they do other things that take them away from their true purpose. The home.”
“Give me a second—I need to make up that knuckle sandwich.”
His deep, delighted laughter rang through the car. “I’ll also need my slippers brought to me along with a hot drink. Or, in the summer, maybe a cold one.”
“Should I rely on my ESP to know which you prefer?”
“Obviously. What else? And, oh yes, I will expect you to work, as well as cook, clean, and take care of the kids, should we ever have any. This is all standard. Although working may be optional, I suppose. I don’t want to be too progressive.”
An image of Phil sitting on the couch with a
stained shirt and a beer flashed into her head. He didn’t have a job at that time. He did nothing all day except watch TV. To compensate for the lack of income, she was working two jobs. Yet she still had to clean around him. She still had to make him dinner.
A sudden blast of rage stole Sara’s breath. She directed her gaze out the side window and took a deep breath, chasing away the memory.
“Hey,” Mikey whispered, his voice dropping the underlying laughter. “I’m obviously kidding, you know that. I love to cook. And you’ve seen my house—I’m tidy.”
She squeezed his hand and willed a smile. “It’s not you. Just reminded of my old life. I did all that—except for the kids. Plus, paid the bills, looked after the yard, the handy work—I did everything for myself, and then had to work double to take care of him. My job paid most of the rent, so when he didn’t have a job, which became more and more often, I had to get a second. It was just… it was a hard life with no reward. Not even a ‘thank you’, or an ‘I love you’.”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly as the car turned into a dim dirt parking lot. A few cars loitered near the door of a homely house styled after a log cabin, except for the stone façade. “I was so busy growing up, and trying to get my life in order, that I didn’t act on my thoughts and contact you. I don’t know why.”
“Probably because I had a man.” Sara huffed as the car pulled in next to a shiny truck with a few sacks of oats in the bed.
“No. That wouldn’t have stopped me. Truthfully, maybe it was because I didn’t think you’d want me. Didn’t think I’d deserve you. Still don’t. I would’ve made contact just to be friends, but I wasn’t ready. I didn’t have anything to show you—to make you proud of me.”
The dash lights in the car illuminated those deep-set eyes and high cheekbones. So strikingly gorgeous. So put together and masculine; confident; on top of the world. How could he possibly think he didn’t deserve her?
“You’re an idiot.” She smiled, tracing his defined jaw. “An extremely handsome idiot.”
He leaned toward her, his lips curved up at the corners. “You are.”
Electricity sparked along their lips when they met. He angled his head, allowing for ease of contact. She opened her mouth, moaning when he filled it in a rush. His tongue ran along her bottom lip and then mingled with hers, his taste like fresh rain in spring. The kiss became deeper, her body singing, her core pounding. He nibbled her lips expertly, just enough longing to tighten her chest, just enough playfulness to keep it light. To make it last.
Her back hit her seat, and she pulled him with her. Her hands slid up his big shoulders and softly glanced off the warm skin on his neck as they wound around him. His hands stayed above the private areas; one resting lightly on her chin, one on her upper back.
They continued kissing, wanting each other, their bodies winding up, yearning for the other. But Sara didn’t want to go any further. She had adult yearnings, but right now she wanted teen virtuousness. Innocence. To share the moment intimately without taking it any farther. He seemed to want the same thing, because his hands stayed in safe zones and he didn’t press too much of himself against her.
They were making up for their lost teen years, and it was perfect.
After an amount of time impossible to determine, Mikey stopped, his lips just barely touching hers. “We’re late for our reservation. We could skip it, but I don’t have a curfew. I can pick up right here after. What about you?”
She giggled. “I told Christie I was sleeping over at a friend’s house.”
“Well, then, we have all night to make out.” His lips hit hers again, his body leaning over further with the intent of one last kiss before they broke apart.
Without meaning to, she clutched his shoulders, not wanting separation of any kind. Not wanting his heat to move away. His kisses became urgent, matching hers. His tongue thrust and retreated in her mouth, their attraction and desire for each other escalating.
Without warning, she was caught up… and swept away. His touch became the only thing she knew. The only thing she cared about. Both her hands found his face as she increased her urgency. Needing him. The kiss deepened, his hand sliding down her shoulder and inward. His large palm cupped her breast, eliciting a moan from deep in her throat.
“Wait,” she said, breathing heavily. “Wait.”
Hot breath against her mouth, he paused. “What? Are you okay?” he whispered, breathing the same air.
“Let’s go eat.”
“Okay.” His lips connected with hers again, deep and needy. The intensity picked up. Passion overcame her. Her sexy parts pulsed, swelling even more.
“Wait.” She pounded on his shoulder.
With a huge exhale, he backed off, lowering his head like he’d just run a mile and needed to catch his breath. “This probably wouldn’t suck so much if I didn’t know how good you felt.”
“Ditto.”
“Car’s not the place for coitus.”
Sara chuckled, the thunk of her head hitting the headrest and echoing through the car. “It is, actually, but not at the moment. Let’s do it in a bed. I really, really just want to be in a bed. After that, I’ll bump uglies anywhere you want. I’ve never experimented; I‘m ready to let my hair down.”
“In all that time, you’ve never experimented? Missionary with the lights off, or what?”
“I’ve done the normal ones, but never used any toys or lotions or… you know, weird positions. Or even… other places. On my body. That one I might… try.”
Mikey fell against the wheel, the horn making Sara jump. “I need to walk it off. I need to walk this off before I jump you right here.”
She laughed and opened the door. A gush of chilly evening wind crashed into her.
“That helps,” Mikey muttered, his forehead against the steering wheel.
“I never really let loose with Phil, I guess.”
Mikey uncurled from the car stiffly. “He never pushed, though, huh?”
“Not with me,” she said with a dry voice.
“Well. We’ll, ah, work on your… holes in education.”
“Know it all, do you?” she asked with a suspicious eye, throwing her arm around his waist.
“Not with someone I love and trust enough to completely let down my guard and inhibitions.”
“Well said, slut.”
“Thank you, prude.”
Sara stopped as they neared the door to the restaurant. Her eyes widened. In front of the doorway, lying in the dirt, was a deep crimson strip of rug leading out to nowhere. It looked brand new.
“This is a sparsely populated area of Montana,” Mikey said in answer to Sara’s open-mouthed stare. “We don’t have any fancy restaurants, valets, or red-carpeted sidewalks. I had to supply my own five-star greeting.”
She turned to him, eyes glistening. “You went out and bought a red carpet and put it in front of the restaurant yourself just so I could walk in on it?”
“Jake picked it up—we had to get it from the event supply store. But yes. You said you wanted one.”
A tear overflowed and met her smile. “I don’t know what to say.”
He kissed her tenderly. “No need to speak. Let’s just enjoy some red meat we didn’t have to find and kill ourselves.”
“I love you. Sorry it took me so long to realize it.”
He shook his head as his brow rumpled. “You apologize for the strangest things.”
Chapter 21
Mike sat across from Sara’s radiant beauty as she savored each piece of steak. He was dying to ask about the pregnancy. He knew she had some news—he could tell by the set of her shoulders and the tension in her jaw when he hinted. If he wasn’t such a coward, he’d just come out and ask.
He was afraid he wouldn’t prevent his face from falling in time if she wasn’t pregnant. In his mind he’d worked out all the next steps in their life thanks to that wonderful accident. If she wasn’t, it would be completely fine, but now he had gotten the idea of a
family with her in his head. The thought had stuck.
“So, Romeo, what’s next?” Sara asked, reaching for her water.
She hadn’t accepted wine throughout dinner. Wanted hot tea, instead. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but…
“Well, we can hit the bar for a drink…” he said.
A vein pulsed on her jaw. “How about a movie and some cuddling?”
“Men don’t cuddle.”
“Snuggle, then. Or canoodle.” She gave him a mischievous grin.
He nodded to the waiter, bartender, owner, and server, all in one man, stationed near the bar with a watchful eye. Immediately, but in no hurry, the man turned toward his adding machine and a scrap of paper.
With a smile, Mike turned back to Sara. “While there is a movie theatre, there is only one screen. We can try, but ready yourself for disappointment.”
“Well, then…” She unconsciously rolled her shoulders a fraction. “Um, what about going to that place where we first caught up? Overlooking the valley.”
“I thought you wanted a bed for our… cuddling.”
“Oh, I see.” She laughed. “You only use the word cuddling when you get a happy ending.”
He couldn’t help his grin as the bill came, slowly but surely. Mike slapped down a credit card before the ticket even hit the table. With a near silent grunt, the waiter about-faced on old bones and headed back to the till.
“That would be a perfect place to end the night. What time do you have to be at the ranch tomorrow?” Mike asked, his palms starting to sweat.
“Not until nine thirty or so, though I would like to take a look around the ranch hands’ quarters and see how their supply system is set up.”
“Won’t stop until you have everything organized within an inch of its life, huh?” Mike laughed, reaching for the slip as Gus returned.
“Wouldn’t you prefer never to run out of stuff?”
Mike stood, and then held the chair for Sara. “I would, yes. Toilet paper shouldn’t be a luxury.”
“So gross.”
As they walked out to the car, Sara held out her hand, but not to hold. Palm up, fingers wiggling, a grin took up her face. “Looks like it drives really nice-like.”
