by Terri Osburn
“What?” he asked.
“Are we going to sleep now?”
Mimicking her pose, he answered, “Not if you join me under here.”
She rolled her eyes and climbed under the covers. “Now what?”
Without responding, he pinned her beneath him and proceeded to drop kisses along her jawline. “Now I have my way with you.”
Snow chuckled. “Didn’t you just do that?”
He looked up to meet her eyes. “Uh . . . no. You had your way with me, remember?”
“Ah,” she said, nodding. “I did kind of do that, didn’t I?”
“You did,” he said and returned to kissing her.
Sliding her arms around his neck, she asked, “Did I do a good job?”
Again, he stopped to look at her. “Darling, you did such a good job, I’m going to let you have your way with me anytime you want from now on.”
That evoked a full-out laugh. “Never let anyone say Caleb McGraw isn’t a generous man,” she said once the laughter subsided.
Growing serious, he said, “Only with you, Snow. Only with you.” Those three words were dangerously close to the ones he was determined to keep to himself.
She sighed, toying with his hair. Her mouth opened as if to say something, but she clamped it shut.
He narrowed his eyes. “What were you going to say?”
Snow brushed off the question. “I believe you were about to have your way with me?”
Yes, Caleb thought. Yes, I am.
“Oh, that’s right.” He slid his knee between her legs. “That is what I was about to do.”
Kissing her chin changed to kissing her neck and shoulders. Then lower, to her breasts. “Isn’t this what you demanded a little while ago?” he asked before taking a taut nipple between his teeth. Snow writhed off the bed with a gasp. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said as he moved to the other breast. He made sure to give both equal attention, moving lower once Snow’s breathing became a series of rapid pants.
Her hands tangled in his hair as his tongue teased around her navel. He kissed an inch lower and Snow bent her knees, planting her feet beside his shoulders.
“Hold on, darling,” he said, watching her body arch for him. “I’m about to return the favor.”
Chapter 17
Snow screamed Caleb’s name four more times that night. Two while he was returning the favor alone. By the time they’d fallen asleep somewhere around two in the morning, she was physically spent.
But now, in the light of day, she was an emotional wreck.
Deep down, Snow had known that sex with Caleb would tangle her heart even more than it already was. They were playing house in this tiny town, pretending that reality wasn’t looming in the distance, waiting to smack them both. And what if, in the throes of passion, Caleb had said he loved her? What would she do then?
Would she admit that regardless of how the next few weeks went, they would still be signing divorce papers? Or would she continue the ruse, hoarding every touch and caress she could get? Worse yet, there was the option of saying to hell with Vivien McGraw and fighting to keep her husband. Was it worth letting Caleb be hurt to find out if he really was with her “no matter what,” as he’d put it?
Stirring her tea, Snow leaned against the counter, wearing nothing but Caleb’s shirt from the night before, and admitted the truth, at least to herself. There was no cure for Caleb McGraw. Even if he drove off tomorrow, she’d never get him out of her blood. Or her heart. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have to let him go. In fact, it made the sacrifice even more necessary.
“There you are,” the subject of her thoughts said, strolling into the kitchen in nothing but his underwear. By the looks of things, he was in search of more than a cup of tea. Caleb pinned her to the counter with an arm on each side and nuzzled into her neck. “I was hoping to give you a proper good morning.”
Snow leaned her head to the left, giving him better access. “I’m surprised you’re up,” she said. “It isn’t even nine o’clock.”
He leaned in, pressing their bodies close. “Oh, I’m up, darling. I’m up.” His lips returned to her neck and descended down the opening of her shirt. Or his shirt, rather. “You might want to put that mug down.”
Unable to resist, Snow did as he suggested, expecting him to tug her into the bedroom. Instead, he lifted her off the floor and dropped her bare bottom on the countertop.
“Hey now,” she said, surprise sending her voice up several octaves. “That’s cold.”
“Don’t worry,” he mumbled, nipping at her lips. “I’ll warm you up.”
True to his word, Caleb chased the chill away with his hands and his mouth. Snow nearly came undone when he licked her earlobe. He held her steady on the counter as he undid the buttons of her shirt with one hand. Seconds later, cool air rushed her skin when the cotton slid off her shoulders, but once again, Caleb’s heat warmed her. Sunlight streamed in through the window over the sink, highlighting the strips of chestnut in his thick hair. Snow ran her fingers over his scalp as Caleb suckled her breast, his hands kneading her hips.
Pulling her forward until she felt him pressed against her core, Caleb murmured, “I can’t get enough of you.” He took her mouth in a searing kiss that said all the words she needed to hear. Almost.
Snow reached to slide his underwear off his hips and was relieved to see he’d taken care of the condom issue before leaving the bedroom. His confidence should have been annoying, but knowing how badly he wanted her sent her temperature spiking. She wrapped her legs around his waist, angling to get closer. To feel him inside her.
“Now, Caleb. I need it now,” she said.
Without a word, he drove into her as she arched, driving her hips forward. He set up a pounding rhythm, and she met him thrust for thrust until they were both sweaty and panting and mumbling incoherent words in each other’s ears. He drove in hard, murmuring something about never letting her go, and Snow nearly shattered right there in his arms, her heart at his feet as her body took him in deeper.
Too far gone to speak, Snow rode the crest surging through her center and out her limbs. She wanted to stretch and curl into a ball at the same time. Let it go and hold it tight. When the peak hit, she gripped her legs tighter, her arms wrapped around Caleb’s neck like a dying woman clinging to life. He finished seconds later, and they returned to reality together, Caleb’s strong arms holding her upright as she dropped delicate kisses along his slick neck.
Their bodies still connected, Snow set her forehead on Caleb’s shoulder and rolled it back and forth. Desperate to break the mood, she said, “You’re going to clean this counter.”
Instead of the chuckle she’d hoped to evoke, Caleb sighed and lifted her against him. “The counter can wait,” he said, carrying her toward the bedroom. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Caleb whistled his way through the next several days, more content with his life than he’d been in a long time. Even when he and Snow were first together, he hadn’t been this happy. He had a job he liked, and was learning more about the business of selling every day. Even this tiny blip on the map was starting to grow on him. The people were nice, for the most part, even with the few typical small-town types who weren’t receptive to outsiders putting down stakes.
Baton Rouge was still his hometown, but the distance from his parents made Ardent Springs that much more attractive. Unlike his mother’s constant calls, Caleb’s father hadn’t bothered. He must have been informed by now that their son had found his runaway bride, but even that hadn’t garnered enough interest from the man to warrant a phone call.
Then again, his mother called often enough for both of them. She’d called twice on Monday alone while Caleb had been on a sales call and unable to answer. In her message, she apologized for their previous conversation and promised not to discuss his ill-conceived marriage again.
“You ready to see her?” Cooper asked, hauling Caleb from his maternal reverie.
“Yes, sir,” Caleb responded, following the excited mechanic out the door.
Snow was spending the evening with Lorelei and Carrie, and she’d encouraged Caleb to explore the area. After ten days of working for the paper, there wasn’t much left of Ardent Springs that he hadn’t already seen. Gerald’s clients stretched from the other side of Franklin Bridge to downtown and out past the fairgrounds. Which amounted to pretty much the entire town, plus a few miles outside the city limits.
So instead, he’d come to see the old Thunderbird he’d heard so much about. The owner had to finish up a quick oil change, which left Caleb waiting in the office, ruminating about the two women in his life. Parting with either of them wasn’t an option. He simply needed to convince the one to tolerate the other.
Cooper escorted him around the garage to the back of the lot, where two structures filled the landscape. One large enough to house several vehicles, and the other more like a toolshed. Both looked homemade and weather-worn, but stable. They crossed to the larger building, and Caleb found himself curious as to what he’d find inside. The Thunderbird, obviously, but this wasn’t the kind of building that housed a solitary vehicle. As soon as Cooper drew back the hangar-like door, his hunch was confirmed.
The space was packed with cars, old and somewhat newer models, most in the midst of a makeover or repair, and all surrounded by an assortment of parts large and small. Paradise.
“You’ve been holding out on me,” he said, easing into the dark interior as his eyes adjusted. “What all do you have in here?”
His tour guide’s attempt to look nonchalant failed miserably. “Dude, you wouldn’t believe it. Old Tanner collected this stuff for years, and I got it all when I bought him out about three years ago.”
“Old Tanner?” Caleb asking, squatting down to examine a radiator that looked at least a hundred years old.
“Tanner Drury. He owned the garage forever. I started working for him in high school and thought he’d never retire, but the wife finally nagged him into it.” Cooper jabbed the ever-present stained rag into the back pocket of his coveralls. “Come over this way.”
Contrary to the chaotic scene, a sort of method to the madness began to emerge. A wide aisle led down the center of the building, and each vehicle occupied a stall. Several were covered in old tarps or blankets, whetting Caleb’s curiosity to see what treasures were hidden underneath. But Cooper was moving too fast, and Caleb didn’t want to offend his host by demanding to see every cracked mirror they encountered.
He’d just have to get an invite back to dig through the rest.
Cooper stepped into a stall at the end of the aisle that looked nothing like the rest. The space around the vehicle was clean, or as clean as anything could be in an old building filled with relics, and a spotless car cover protected the large object occupying the center.
Looking like a magician about to reveal his premier trick, Cooper said, “Here she is.” He grabbed the front corner of the cover and pulled slowly until the material pooled on the floor behind the back tires.
Caleb couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Dude,” was all he could manage, as he inched into the stall.
“I know,” Cooper said, nodding his head as if they’d exchanged some great thought.
This wasn’t the typical Thunderbird model that most car enthusiasts focused on, but with such a gorgeous piece of machinery glimmering before him under the fluorescent light, Caleb couldn’t understand why. Deep scarlet with black vinyl hardtop, complete with the signature “S” bar emblem along the sides, the car made his palms itch and he hadn’t even heard her run yet.
“Please tell me she purrs,” he said, glancing through the driver’s side window.
“Of course,” Cooper said with pride.
The red leather bucket seats looked fresh from the factory, and the dash sported enough chrome to be blinding. “Swing-away steering wheel?” Caleb asked.
“You know it. I don’t take her out often, but there’s a cruise-in down in Goodlettsville once a month during the warmer months. Since that doesn’t put a lot of miles on her, I try to get down there as often as I can.” He brushed something invisible off the front fender. “They hold it on Friday nights, which makes it tougher to get out of here, but sometimes I make it.”
“Seems a shame not to show her off.” Caleb admired the large, round tail lights that looked as if they belonged on a rocket instead of a car. “No cruise-ins here in town?”
“Nah,” Cooper said. “Other than the fairgrounds, nobody has a parking lot big enough. And Mayor Winkle doesn’t want what he calls a bunch of old, leaking gas-guzzlers messing up his fairground.”
Caleb had yet to be officially introduced to this notorious town mayor. He also had yet to meet a native with anything positive to say about him. What he’d witnessed at the Ruby meeting hadn’t left Caleb with a positive impression himself.
“Sounds like a great guy.”
“Pompous asshole is more like it.”
Dropping the subject of the civic leader, Caleb reached the passenger side and stepped back. “You said she was a beauty, but this is better than I imagined. A 1962 Thunderbird Landau. Amazing.”
Cooper reached for the car cover, and Caleb moved to help him. “I don’t know how long Tanner had her, but this turned out to be the original color. They call it chestnut brown. The only thing I had to do was a little upholstery repair, give her a tune-up, replace the tires, and apply soap and water. The rest Tanner had already done.”
“Like I said, amazing.” The pair tucked the cover tight under the front end. “So what’s the next project?” Caleb asked, giving a fleeting look to the rest of the inventory. “I don’t see that old truck you swiped out from under me.”
“I told you,” Cooper said, leading back to the entrance, “if you wanted that truck, you should have outbid me. I’ve got that one at home where I do my fun work. Next up in here will be that ’57 Vette over in the corner.” He pointed toward a heap in the shadows covered by a dirty tarp. The only thing showing was a smudged round headlight.
“You’ve got a ’57 Vette under there?”
“I do.” The mechanic sighed as a depressed look crossed his face. “And a ton of others waiting for attention. I either need to marry rich or win the lottery so I can spend my days fixing ’em all up.”
“Now that would be a nice life,” Caleb said, and he meant it. Waking up every morning, grabbing some coffee, and stepping into a well-appointed garage to work under the hood of a vintage machine sounded like a great way to spend the rest of his years. So long as Snow was along for the ride.
The men stepped into the waning sunlight, and Cooper slid the rusted door shut. “You’re welcome to come down to Goodlettsville when the events start back up in the spring. If I have the truck running by then, I might let you drive the T-Bird.”
A tempting offer for sure, but Caleb’s first thought was that he wouldn’t still be in town come spring. Or would he?
“Thanks, Cooper. I may take you up on that.”
Chapter 18
Lorelei had been after Snow for days to spill all her juicy details, pointing out that the insipid grin on her face was proof enough that she was no longer sleeping chastely beside her husband. At first Snow had put her off, certain that Lorelei would not approve of her leading Caleb on when she still intended to end the marriage. But more and more Snow was starting to believe that marrying Caleb had not been a mistake.
Marrying him so quickly had been the problem.
And, as her mother had pointed out on the phone earlier in the day, Snow and Caleb were rectifying that particular issue by returning to the dating stage. Not that she’d planned to tell her mother about the bizarre
state of her life, but as soon as Snow had heard Mama’s voice on the other end, she’d spilled it all.
By the time they ended the call, Roberta Cameron was throwing around “I told you sos” and planning a big Christmas dinner to welcome home her prodigal daughter and unwavering son-in-law. Too bad Snow didn’t harbor the same happy ending certainty her mother did.
“If that isn’t the face of a woman satisfied with life, I don’t know what is,” Lorelei said, dropping into the booth across from Snow. They’d agreed to meet for dinner at the new Mexican restaurant two blocks down from Snow’s store.
Mamacita’s added a dose of sorely needed variety to their little metropolis—an alternative to greasy diner food, and deep-fried and gravy-covered options. Based on the tantalizing smells alone, Snow would give the place five stars. Her mouth was watering by the time her friends arrived.
Ignoring Lorelei’s comment, Snow said, “Where have you two been? I’ve been sitting here drooling over this menu for nearly ten minutes.”
Carrie sat down at the edge of the seat Lorelei had scooted across, and then she turned to face the table. Only her stomach didn’t fit.
“I’m sorry,” Snow said, pulling the table her way.
Carrie slid in with a grateful sigh. “Oh, man.”
“What?” Lorelei said, suddenly on high alert. “Is she coming? Do we need to call an ambulance?”
The expectant mother turned to scoot back out of the booth. “Get a grip, Lorelei. She isn’t due for another month. I have to pee.”
Snow camouflaged her laughter by taking a sip of her water. “If you keep this up, Carrie’s going to snap and sit on you,” she said. “And I hope I’m around to see it.”
“I can’t help it,” Lorelei said, sticking her nose in her menu. “Having a baby is dangerous. Anything could happen.”
“Right. Because women haven’t been spitting out babies since the dawn of time.”
Slapping the menu shut, Lorelei said, “This is different.” Glancing in the direction Carrie had disappeared, she added, “Carrie lost a baby before.”
