by Maddie James
He pushed back. “Yes, but first…”
He slid lower then, between her thighs, and nuzzled next to her sex. His breath hot against her tender skin, she quaked in anticipation of the touch of his tongue to her most intimate place. Her center. And then he sent her over the edge into the pleasurable abyss between torture and ecstasy.
His tongue probed and flicked. His lips nibbled and tugged. One then two fingers entered her. The sensation of being penetrated thrilled her, and she grabbed Parker’s shoulders. “Yes.” She blew out the word, and Parker burrowed deeper, licking and sucking until her hips and thighs were shaking. She held him against her, her hands at the back of his head, until her entire upper body lurched forward as he pushed deeper into her center and she gave way to a powerful, and perfectly long-overdue, orgasm.
“Oh… My…”
Parker stayed with her until she was finished, kissing and caressing, and then quickly moved up her body to capture her lips in a deep kiss, while he centered himself and pressed inside her.
Slowly, he moved in and out, as if he was exercising caution and restraint, but the passion they shared soon crescendoed to the point of unrestrained lovemaking. Parker cradled her body beneath his, claiming her, making her his; her legs spread wide to wrap around him and take him deeper.
It didn’t take long for Parker to shudder, then moan and shout above her, and with one last powerful thrust, spill his pleasure into her.
She stayed draped around him, both her arms and legs, as tight as she could. As greedy as she could be.
She didn’t want to let him go. Ever.
She wanted him. Inside of her. Always.
****
After a moment of stillness, Parker rolled onto his side and took Reba with him. Grasping the covers and flipping them over their bodies, he drew her close into his chest, facing her, aching to keep feeling her skin against his. Heat against heat. He wrapped her protectively within his body, arms and legs entwined.
His.
She was his. He wanted her with all of his heart. His heart, which was beating wildly out of control. He wanted her with his body, his head, his soul.
Burrowing into the crook of his neck, she sighed deep, and he could feel the moist heat of her breath and the physical relaxing of her shoulders in his arms.
He stroked her back. “That was quick. I’m sorry. Next time longer?” He spoke softly, on a whisper.
She nuzzled. “It was perfect. And yes. Next time.”
Parker smiled. So there would be a next time.
His fingers found her hair, and he tangled them in her long, silky strands.
“I’m falling in love with you, Reba Morris,” he whispered. “I hope that is okay with you.”
For the longest moment, Reba didn’t move, or respond. Then just about the time when he was ready to retract that statement, she lifted her head and searched for his lips.
She kissed him. Long and hard, sloppy and deep. And she kept kissing him until she rose up and pushed him over onto his back, straddled and rubbed her body over him until he was hard again, and rode him into the night.
He guessed his falling in love was okay with her.
****
About five o’clock the next morning, Reba leaned a shoulder into her front porch doorway and watched Parker’s truck slowly make its way down her lane to the main road. It wouldn’t take him more than fifteen minutes to get home, since their properties joined. He wasn’t in any hurry. He had lingered at the door much too long, stealing kisses and pulling her close, right up until the very last minute.
No doubt the night they spent was pleasurable. She enjoyed making love with him tremendously. He was a skilled lover and an unselfish one. And she’d let him pleasure her in any way he wanted, for as long as he wanted.
She’d needed that. She liked being the receiver, for once, and she twinged even thinking that. She had willingly given to Jack over the years because she loved him. And she wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Last night was for her. Well, it was for both of them.
But Parker had thrown her for a loop when he said he was falling in love with her. She hadn’t expected that. And she wasn’t sure her heart, or her brain, was prepared.
Was she ready for a relationship?
Was there room enough in her life for that? Had a big enough space opened up in her heart yet to let Parker in?
She needed time.
If she truly was setting out to find herself in the aftermath of losing herself, where did Parker fit into the equation? Had she found herself enough to be able to lose herself again, to him?
And to love?
Chapter Twelve
Thursday
After feeding and checking on the cows and babies with Murphy and a couple of the ranch hands, Parker headed for the house. Ready for another cup of coffee and some breakfast, he didn’t linger long at the barn. For the first time in days, he was hungry, and maybe that was a sign he was beginning to deal from the reality of his father’s death.
It would take time. Getting over losing a family member is never a quick process, but he was more at peace today than a few days ago.
It could also be Reba—and the fact the two of them had shared an incredible night together. He smiled. Yes, it could be that.
Pushing through the back door, he halted, seeing Callie sitting at his kitchen table, her laptop open and papers spread out.
She glanced up. “I hope you don’t mind. Murphy’s apartment is so small. I barely have room to spread out on the bar where we eat. Your table is bigger, plus the Wi-Fi is faster over here. Do you care?”
“Of course not. Make yourself at home.” Then he peeked over her shoulder. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, some stuff for Reba. Just helping her catch up a bit.”
“For her work?” He was curious. He’d made love with the woman and still had no clue what she did for a living.
Callie nodded. “Yes. I’ve temporarily taken over her social media accounts until her arm is better.” She nudged him. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t do social media.”
Parker shook his head. “Nope. And I can’t say that I ever will.”
Callie smiled. “Well, she has great followings on Twitter and Facebook, and she’s growing her base on Google+. Her blog is the most fantastic thing ever though—she has hundreds of thousands of followers. She e-mailed a few things to me this morning, and I’m working up her blog post and then will be sharing it around.”
Parker listened to his sister rattle on while he pulled a skillet from the cabinet and retrieved bacon and eggs from the refrigerator. There was still a half pot of coffee left, so he poured himself a cup while the skillet was heating up. He struggled with the plastic bacon package. “Why does Reba do all of this twittering and posting and stuff?”
There. The zipper on the package opened. He pulled out four slices of bacon and arranged them in the pan. Callie still hadn’t answered.
He turned. “Callie?”
She was typing, staring at her computer screen, where all kinds of messages were flying by.
Parker stepped forward. “What the hell is that?”
“Twitter.” She glanced up. “Or rather, it’s my twitter management system. I can manage several clients’ accounts with a quick glance.”
The rows kept spinning by.
“I don’t get this.”
She grinned. “I know. You just stick with cows. It’s better that way.”
“Agreed.” He went back to the bacon, now beginning to sizzle. “You didn’t answer me. Why does Reba do all of this? What is her job?”
Silence.
He turned. “Callie, are you avoiding me?”
Another pause. Finally, she said, “Yes. I’m avoiding answering that question.”
Parker turned the heat off under the skillet, walked to the table, and sat down. “Why?”
“Because, well…” She bit her lip.
“Spill it, Callie.” Her hesitancy wa
s starting to get to him. Was there something she didn’t want to tell him?”
“You like her, don’t you?”
He cocked his head. Where was this going? “I’ll give you the short answer. Yes. I like her. A lot.”
“How much do you know about her, Parker?”
How much did he know? She was pretty and spunky. She was tough when she needed to be and it took a lot for her to cry, but when she did, watch out. She could handle him when he got out of line. And, she was soft in all of the right places and firm in the others. He glared at Callie. “I know enough.”
“There is a lot you don’t know though, Parker. Do you want to know? Because maybe Reba has her reasons for not telling you yet—”
“Then let Reba worry about telling me. It’s not your place.”
“But you are my brother, and I don’t want you to get hurt and—”
“Whoa. How am I going to get hurt?” His gut was beginning to ache. What the hell.
Callie closed her eyes and exhaled. Long. “All right. Here is the deal. Reba and I…we decided to keep this all hush-hush with the family the other day, until time comes. We don’t want any leaks.”
“Leaks?”
Callie turned in her chair to face him. “Parker, Reba is famous.”
Famous? “What?”
“Yeah. She’s famous. I’m sure you never heard of her because you don’t do blogs and stuff, but she’s real famous. She has this fantastic food blog called Bekah’s Cottage where she does all kinds of homey food and craft and decorating ideas. She makes her own soaps and natural make-up products too, and she prides herself on using found and natural ingredients for things—well, not for cooking—but she likes to use whole foods and unprocessed and organic when it’s practical. See, she’s all about the practical and then throw in a little bit of frugality, and she’s…well, like I said, famous.”
“Bekah’s Cottage?”
“Yes. And there is a book deal, and her agent is talking negotiations with a cable network for a TV show.”
Parker sat back. Dumfounded. “Why didn’t she ever tell me any of this?”
“Did you ever ask?”
He shook his head. No, he hadn’t. Had he? He’d been too busy avoiding and pushing her away in the beginning, and then when the jealousy bug had bitten him, he’d jumped right into her bed. Had he stopped to even inquire what Reba was all about? What was important to her?
Had she done the same with him?
No. They really didn’t know each other, did they?
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Parker shook himself out of a slight trance. “Not worth a penny,” he said and rose from the table. He glanced at the bacon in the pan and put the eggs back in the refrigerator. Then he headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Not hungry. Something I need to do.”
“Parker, wait. There is one more thing I want you to know. I think it’s important.”
He turned, still dazed. What else?
“Did you know that Reba was married once before?”
He blinked. “Yes. Yes I knew that, but I don’t know what happened.” One more thing he didn’t know about the woman he was falling in love with.
Callie took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. She held his gaze. “He died, Parker. Six months ago. He had cancer, and she cared for him until the end. She never let her fans know, and she kept it all inside. Now, she’s getting ready to make some things public because of the book deal and the potential TV show contract. It’s what she wants to do, but it’s going to be a difficult time for her, I think.”
Parker’s brain was spinning. How could Reba have kept all of this information from him? Why didn’t he know this? He would never have taken her to bed if he’d known….
Would he?
Maybe she didn’t want you to know.
“Parker?”
He turned for the door. “Stay as long as you like, Callie. There’s something I have to do.”
Something I should have done days ago.
****
Reba was in the midst of juggling a hot cookie sheet of Old-Fashioned Honey Oatmeal Cookies with her good hand while poking at her cell phone ringing on the counter with the forefinger of her bad hand when the pounding came at her front door.
She glanced to the phone. Callie.
“I’ll call you back,” she said to the phone, not answering.
The cookie sheet landed on the stovetop with a bit of a clatter—she wasn’t used to this one-handed approach to baking yet. Then she looked down the hallway toward her door. Who in the hell had ventured up to her cabin?
Wiping her hands on her apron, she went to the door, peeked out the sidelight, and saw him.
She opened the door. “Parker. Hi!” She smiled.
Her barreled past her, not smiling.
Well, hello there, Mr. Personable.
She followed him into the kitchen where he halted by the island, hands on hips, glancing from the cookies on the stove, to her laptop on the kitchen table, to the pile of paperwork beside it.
“What’s your job, Reba?”
She approached him from the side. “What are you asking me, Parker? Really.”
He turned, leaned his backside into the island, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I didn’t know you were famous.”
Ah. The reason for Callie’s call. “I’m only famous in the foodie world. It’s nothing to get excited about.” She went back to the cookies, found a spatula, and began removing them from the cookie sheet to the clean counter to cool.
“But you didn’t tell me.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Did you ask me about my job?”
She looked up. “Parker. Your job is obvious. You live on a ranch. You’re a rancher.”
“And yours isn’t so obvious, so why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged. “What does it matter?”
“It matters.”
Suddenly Reba was confused. “Why?”
“Because I want you to share things like that with me.”
Reba picked up the cookie sheet and took it to the sink, running water over it and scraping off the crusty parts. Her brain was trying to work over the puzzle of his words, and she needed a minute. What was he truly saying?
She turned. Parker was behind her. Almost too close. “There were reasons why I hadn’t mentioned it to you yet. It’s all tied up in a big circle with some other things that I’m still working through, and it was just too much to talk about. I really didn’t think it would be a big deal.”
He studied her, arms still crossed. “Are some of those other things about your husband and his recent death?”
Pain sliced through her heart. She broke away and stumbled toward the window, away from him. “Callie should not have told you.”
“She’s my sister. She thought I should know.”
Reba spun back. “I was going to tell you that. I just wanted to find the right way and time. I wasn’t ready for you to know. That was a very difficult time for me.”
He stepped closer and reached for her elbow. Reba instinctively jerked back and saw the sudden hurt in his eyes.
He paused, stopping whatever words were about to exit his mouth. For several heartbeats, they stared at each other. Finally, he said, “I understand it was a difficult time. What I don’t understand is why you let me make love to you the other night, without me knowing that you are probably still grieving the loss of your husband. Reba, this is awful soon for you.”
She turned away, walking back toward the island, and then whirled back to face him. “I’ll decide when it’s right for me to share things about my late husband and whether I have grieved long enough and whether I want to sleep with someone. That is my business, Parker, not yours. I decide.”
He dropped his gaze, staring at the floor. “Of course it is. But if I fall in love with you because of our making love and you decide later that it’s too soon f
or you, then it’s my business.” He paused, stepped closer, and peered down into her eyes. “Reba, I shouldn’t have made love to you. I’m sorry. You’re not ready. I’m not ready to deal with everything you have going on around you. I’m not ready to have a relationship because of everything going on around me. It’s too much for either of us to expect we can start to build a relationship until some things calm down.”
Reba swallowed. Hard. And lifted her chin. She didn’t want to hurt Parker. Had never wanted to hurt Parker. She did care for him. A lot. He was all she’d thought about for the past day and a half. But…
“Parker, I just wanted sex the other night. I wanted to feel a man’s body next to mine. I wanted the pleasure and the closeness. It had been a long time. I don’t want a relationship or a commitment. You’re right. I’m not ready for that. And it sounds like you are not ready either. So no worries.”
She hoped that set his mind at ease.
But the range of emotion that flashed over his face then said otherwise. “So, it was just sex. Just casual. Just another roll in the hay. For you.”
It almost pained her to say the next word, but she did. “Yes.”
Parker stepped back, raked his hands through his hair, and looked away. He stood there for a moment, staring off, his lips tightly pursed. Then his gaze lifted, caught hers, and he stared at her for a length of time.
Reba swore his eyes were misty.
“All right,” he said. “I get it. Good-bye, Reba.” Then he strode past her and out the door.
Out of her life.
****
For the ten minutes it took him to get to the main road, Parker fought the stinging emotion behind his eyelids. During the five minutes’ drive to his ranch entrance, he swallowed back the sting, but it was stuck in his throat.
By the time he reached the barn, he figured he could talk, so he parked and dialed Murphy’s number.
Murphy answered on the second ring.
“Yeah, boss.”
“Just listen. I don’t want to see anyone, and I don’t want to talk to anyone until tomorrow. I’m heading up to my cabin for the rest of the day and night. You know my cell phone won’t work up there. If anyone asks where I am, just tell them I need some time. And by God, do not let anyone come after me. There is a bottle of whiskey with my name on it up there, and I plan to consume every drop. If she asks, tell Liz I’ll meet her at Tom’s at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. You can handle anything that needs handling between now and then. Got it?”
