Her Favorite Maverick (Montana Mavericks: Six Brides For Six Brother Book 1)

by Christine Rimmer

  When he lifted his head and gazed down at her, she saw his desire in his eyes. Her bedroom was two steps away. And all at once, what would happen between them tonight was breathtakingly, scarily real. Her heart rate kicked up a notch. She could feel her pulse beating in her neck. He regarded her without wavering, his eyes full of promises, his mouth a little swollen from that beautiful, lingering kiss they’d just shared.

  “I haven’t, um, been with anyone,” she said, every nerve in her body hyperactive, quivering. “Not since that conference in Denver when I got pregnant with Sophia.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders, so gently, in reassurance. “You’re not sure.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  He stroked his palms down her arms in a soothing caress. “How about we make popcorn, stream a movie or something?”

  She stared up at him, studying him, memorizing him—the fine lines around his eyes, his square jaw, that mouth she couldn’t wait to kiss again. His cheeks were smooth tonight, free of the usual sexy layer of scruff. It pleased her to picture him shaving, a towel wrapped around his lean waist, getting ready for his evening with her.

  And her nerves? They were easing, settling. “Not a chance.” She offered a hand and he took it, weaving his fingers together with hers. “This way,” she said.

  In her bedroom, she turned the lamp on low. The baby monitor was already waiting in there, the screen dark until sound or movement activated it.

  “So will it be that gray-blue or the bluish-green color?” He was staring at the paint colors she’d stroked on the white wall.

  She stepped in close to him and got to work unbuttoning his dove-gray shirt. “I have to tell you, at this moment, paint colors don’t interest me in the least.”

  Now he was looking directly at her again and it felt like just maybe he could see into her heart, see her tender, never-quite-realized hopes, her slightly tarnished dreams. “Gotcha.” And he kissed her, another slow, deep one.

  She sighed and melted into him, surrendering to the moment, letting him take the lead.

  He claimed control so smoothly, easing her into the glory of right now, his lips moving against hers, his big hands skating over her, stroking her, quieting every worry. Banishing every fear.

  She let him undress her. He did it slowly, with care, taking time to kiss her and touch her as he peeled away each separate item of clothing. Time kind of faded away, along with the last of her nervous fears. He laid her down on her bed and she gazed up at him, wondering at the perfection of this moment, the hazy, sweet beauty of it.

  He took his phone from one pocket, a short chain of condoms from another and set them all on the night table by the lamp. After that, he took off his own clothes swiftly, revealing his body, so lean and sharply cut. Such a fine-looking man. Everywhere. In every way.

  “Is this really happening?” she asked him when he came down to her.

  “You’d better believe it.” He pulled her close, skin to skin. “At last.”

  And he kissed her some more, kisses that managed both to soothe and excite her. He kissed her all over, whispering naughty things, his lips skimming down the side of her throat, pausing to press a deeper kiss in the curve where her neck met her shoulder, sucking at her skin in that tender spot, bringing the blood to the surface.

  But not stopping there. Oh, no.

  He went lower, lingering first at her breasts, making her moan for him, making her cry out his name.

  Swept up in sensation, she forgot all about the ways her body had changed with pregnancy, the new softness at her belly, the white striations where her skin had made room for the baby within her—until he kissed them, brushing his lips over them, so sweet and slow. She lifted her head when he did that, blinking down at him, not really believing that any man would linger over stretch marks.

  He glanced up and met her eyes. And he winked at her.

  She laughed and let her head fall back against the pillow.

  He continued his journey, dropping kisses on the crests of her hipbones, nibbling across her lower abdomen, eventually lifting her left thigh onto his shoulder so that he could slide underneath it and settle between her legs.

  Intimate, arousing, perfect kisses followed. The man knew what he was doing. He invaded her most secret places.

  And she let him. She welcomed him, opening her legs wider, reaching down to spear her fingers in his thick, short hair, urging him on, begging for more, losing herself to the sheer pleasure of his mouth, of the things that he did with those big, knowing hands of his.

  She went over the edge, losing herself completely, crying out his name.

  And he? Well, he just went on kissing her, touching her, stroking her, luring her right to the edge again...

  And on over for the second time.

  By then, she was vanquished in the best way possible, limp and so satisfied. She simply lay there, sighing, as he eased out from between her open thighs, rose to his knees above her and reached for a condom.

  “Hey.” His voice was low, a little raspy, teasing and coaxing.

  “Hmm?” She managed a lazy smile.

  “You okay?”

  “Oh, Logan. Yes, I am. No, wait. On second thought, ‘okay’ doesn’t even come close. I’m much better than okay. I’m excellent. Satisfied. Perfectly content. And ready for more.” She lifted a lazy arm and reached out to him.

  He took her fingers, bent closer and pressed those wonderful lips of his to the back of her hand. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He let go of her to suit up, the beautiful muscles of his arms and chest flexing and bunching as he did so.

  Then he braced his hands on the mattress on either side of her and lowered himself down to her, taking care not to put all his weight on her at once.

  But she wanted that—all of him, pressing her down.

  “Come here. Come closer.” She took those broad, hard shoulders and pulled him down.

  He gave in to her urging, settling on her carefully, taking her mouth again, kissing her slowly, tasting her own arousal, reminding her sharply of how much she wanted him, of his skill as a lover, which was absolutely stunning in the best sort of way.

  She felt him, large and hard and ready. And she wanted him. All of him, with nothing held back.

  Did she believe that her dreams would come true with him?

  No.

  Something had broken in her, after Tuck and then the disappointment of Mercer. It wasn’t the men, really—how could it be? She hadn’t understood Tuck at all. And Mercer, well, she hardly knew the guy.

  No. It wasn’t the men. It was about her, about her absolute belief in her plan for her future. She’d been so very sure she had it all figured out, that she wouldn’t be like her parents, settling for a colorless, nothing life in her hometown. She would have everything—great success, true love and beautiful children in the big, exciting city, because she knew what she wanted and how to get it.

  But what had she known, really?

  Nothing, that’s what. She’d gone forth in arrogance, ready to conquer the world. And nothing had worked out the way she’d intended.

  So no. She wasn’t thinking she would get forever with Logan. She wasn’t counting on anything.

  For her, it was all about right now, here in her bed, with this beautiful man. Having him in her arms, wanting her, holding her.

  This moment was what mattered. It was way more than enough.

  He was right there, pressing, hot and insistent, where she wanted him so very much. She eased her thighs wider, wrapped her legs around him.

  He groaned her name as he filled her.

  “Yes,” she answered. “Oh, Logan, yes...”

  And then they were moving, rocking together and her mind was a white-hot blank of pure pleasure. He made it last for the longest, sweetest time. She clung to him, feeling her body rise again.
When she hit the crest, she cried out at the sheer joy of it.

  He followed soon after, holding her so tight.

  For a while, they just lay there, arms and legs entangled, whispering together, reveling in afterglow.

  As for what would happen next, what the future might bring, none of that mattered. For now, for tonight, she belonged to Logan.

  And he was hers.

  * * *

  Thursday was the Fourth of July.

  They had breakfast together at the cottage—Sarah, Sophia and Logan. He filled more pages of her notebook with sketches of Sarah at the stove flipping pancakes and then of Sophia in her bouncy seat, laughing and waving her little arms.

  In the late afternoon, Sarah dressed her baby in red, white and blue, and the three of them joined their neighbors in Rust Creek Falls Park for a community barbecue. Sarah’s parents were there and Lily was, too. They all sat together on a big blanket Sarah had brought. When it came time to eat, they shared a picnic table. Everybody wanted to hold the baby. Sophia loved the attention. She hardly fussed at all, even dropping off to sleep in her baby seat when she got tired.

  Laura Crawford, Nate Crawford’s mom, who was a fixture behind the counter at Crawford’s General Store, stopped by to chat with Sarah’s mom and dad. Sophia was awake again by then and Mrs. Crawford asked to hold her.

  “She’s such a good baby,” the older woman said as Sophia grabbed her finger and tried to use it as a teething toy. Laura Crawford glanced at Logan. “And she has your eyes.”

  For a second, Sarah’s skin felt too hot and her pulse started racing. She felt thoroughly dissed. Surely everyone in town knew that she was a single mom and that Logan Crawford—a relative of Laura’s, after all—was not her baby daddy.

  But Laura wasn’t a mean person. Most likely, she just meant it in a teasing way, because Logan and Sophia both had blue eyes and Sarah and Logan were making no secret of their current coupled-up status.

  And what did it matter what Laura Crawford actually thought? Sarah intended to enjoy every minute of her time with Logan. A random remark by Nate Crawford’s mom wasn’t going to make her feel bad about herself or her choices.

  Clearly, Logan wasn’t bothered in the least. He grinned at Laura. “You noticed,” he said, at which point Sophia decided she wanted him to hold her.

  “Ah, da!” the baby crowed, reaching out her arms to Logan, falling toward him.

  Logan jumped up to catch her as Mrs. Crawford reluctantly let her go. Once he had Sophia safely in his arms, she patted his cheek and babbled out more happy nonsense.

  A little later, Flo and Mack said they were going on home. Flo volunteered to take Sophia. “Stay for the dancing,” she told Sarah. “You can pick the baby up on your way home. Or if it gets too late, she can just stay with us. Come get her first thing in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Really, it was nice. To have her mom and dad close by—especially her mom and dad the way they were now, happy and kind of easygoing, fun to be around. Sarah was even starting to get used to her mother’s new frankness about sex and relationships. If Flo and Mack would just quit exploring their new sexual freedom at the office, Sarah would have zero complaints when it came to her parents.

  She handed over all the baby paraphernalia and promised to come pick Sophia up by ten thirty that night.

  “Or in the morning,” her mom offered again. “That’s fine, too.”

  As the band started tuning up, Sarah, Logan and Lily sat and chatted. Logan’s brothers Xander and Wilder joined them. They all joked about Max and his scheme to get his boys married off.

  Xander said to Logan, “At least Dad seems to be making progress with you.”

  Sarah sighed. Xander so didn’t get it. Max wanted Logan married, yeah—just not to her. She looked away and reminded herself that she had no business feeling hurt.

  So what if Max didn’t consider her a good match for Logan? It wasn’t like she was picking out china patterns and dreaming of monogramming her towels with a capital C. She and Logan were going to take it day by day and she was perfectly happy about that.

  “Hey.” Logan leaned in close.

  She turned to him. “Hmm?”

  And he kissed her, right there under the darkening sky in front of everyone on the Fourth of July in Rust Creek Falls Park. It was a quick kiss, but tender. And so very sweet.

  Whatever happened, however it ended, she would remember this moment, sitting on the red, white and blue quilt her grandmother had made years and years ago, Logan’s warm lips brushing hers in affection and reassurance.

  “Hey, guys. What’s up?” Genevieve Lawrence, in a yellow dress and cowboy boots, dropped down on the blanket next to Xander. She gave Logan’s brother a radiant smile and then turned to Logan. “So, I see you took my advice.”

  Sarah didn’t know Genevieve well, but she knew that the pretty, outgoing blonde was a true craftswoman, a farrier who trimmed and shod horses’ hooves for a living. “What advice?”

  Logan leaned close again. “Date number two,” he whispered.

  “Ah.” She asked again, “What advice?”

  Genevieve pretended to smooth her flared skirt. “It’s all good, I promise.” She wiggled her eyebrows at Sarah. “Make him tell you when you’re alone.”

  Right then, the band launched into Lady Antebellum’s “American Honey.”

  Genevieve turned to Xander. “How ’bout a dance?”

  Xander jumped up, offered his hand and led the energetic blonde to the portable dance floor set up under the trees just as the party lights strung from branch to branch came on over their heads.

  A moment later, another girl wandered over. Sarah vaguely recognized her, but couldn’t recall her name.

  Not that it mattered. The girl asked Wilder to dance and off they went.

  Lily watched them go, a wistful look on her face.

  Sarah slid a glance at Logan. Their eyes met and it was as though he’d read her mind.

  “Want to dance, Lily?”

  Lily smoothed her pulled-back hair. “You should dance with Sarah.”

  He only gazed at Lily steadily and asked again, “Dance with me?”

  Sarah said, “Looks like he’s not takin’ no for an answer, Lil.”

  “Oh, you two.” Lily waved her hand in front of her face.

  But when Logan got up and held down his hand, she took it.

  * * *

  As they danced, Logan asked Sarah’s friend about her job at Maverick Manor.

  Lily said she loved to cook and she really wished she could get more hours. “But as of now, I’m part-time. Hey. At least it’s something.”

  Cole and Viv Dalton danced by. Viv smiled at Logan.

  He nodded in response and glanced down at Sarah’s friend again. “So, have you joined Viv Dalton’s dating service yet?”

  Lily scoffed. “Yeah. Like that’s gonna happen.”

  “Why not? I can personally vouch for each of my brothers. They can be troublesome and maybe a little rough around the edges, but they’re all good at heart, not to mention good-looking. One of them could be the guy for you.”

  “Seems to me they’ve got plenty of women to choose from already.”

  “Give it a chance, Lily. What have you got to lose? If nothing else, you might have a good time.”

  She frowned up at him, but her eyes gleamed with wry humor. “Logan Crawford, you are much too persuasive.”

  “Just think about it.”

  She shrugged. “Sure. I’ll do that.”

  Did he believe her? Not really. And that created the strangest urge in him to keep pushing her—because he liked her and she mattered to Sarah and he really did think it would be good for her, to get out there and mix it up a little.

  On the other hand, it was none of his damn business whether Lily Hunt went out with one of h
is brothers or not. He’d said more than enough about the wedding planner’s dating pool.

  When the dance ended, he and Lily rejoined Sarah on the blanket. Hunter and Wren wandered over and sat down with them. Max stopped by. Logan prepared to get tough on his dad if he gave Sarah any grief. But Max was on his best behavior, greeting both Sarah and Lily in an easy, friendly way, going on about how great it was to spend Independence Day with the good citizens of his new hometown.

  The band started playing another slow one. Logan leaned close to Sarah and breathed in her delicate scent. “Let’s dance.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes shone so bright and he was the happiest man in Montana, just to be spending his Fourth of July at her side.

  She gave him her hand. They rose together.

  Max got up, too. “I think I’ll go check in with Viv and Cole. Great to meet you, Lily.” He aimed a too-wide smile at Logan. “We need you out at the Ambling A good and early tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Fences to mend, cattle to tend,” Max added in a jovial tone that set Logan’s teeth on edge.

  He always did his share of the work and Max knew it, too. Ignoring the temptation to mutter something sarcastic, Logan led Sarah to the dance floor, where he wrapped his arms around her and didn’t let go through that song and the next and the next after that.

  A little later, they rolled up her grandmother’s quilt and wandered over to Rust Creek, which meandered through the center of town. The local merchants association had arranged for a fireworks display right there at creekside. Everyone sat around on the grass and watched the bright explosions light up the night sky.

  It was after eleven when the fireworks show ended. Logan and Sarah strolled by her parents’ house on the way to Sarah’s place, just on the off-chance that her mom and dad might still be up. All the lights were off.

  Sarah said it was fine. She would pick up Sophia in the morning. Holding hands, they strolled on to her cottage, where she hesitated before leading him up the front walk.