Sapphire Falls: Going Hearts Over Heels (Kindle Worlds Novella) (My Country Heart Book 3)

by Rachelle Ayala

  Unfortunately, it rolled into voice mail.

  “Hey, Marsh here,” he spoke quickly, plugging his other ear with a finger. “I know this is way out in left field and I hope you’re not offended. But is there any chance you can come to New York on Valentine’s Day? I’d love to go with you to the party at Times Square.”

  Since she wasn’t answering, he hung up and shook off the people.

  “I’m not selling.” He looked up from his phone. “Evan, give those tickets back to me.”

  Evan and Slade were gone.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ginger settled in on her flight and prepared to catch a few winks. During the mad rush to the airport, Candi kept up the litany of rules and how she was breaking all of them.

  Running after a man.

  Answering his texts immediately.

  Letting him stay at her place.

  Being too accommodative.

  And yes, having sex with him before the third date.

  But she didn’t regret a second of her time with Marsh.

  If anything, she should have told her two San Francisco sisters, that New Yorkers break rules as a habit, and to butt out of her life.

  She braced herself as the airplane lifted off and set her watch one hour ahead. She would be there shortly before midnight, and it would be dark and scary when she arrived at her apartment.

  Nothing she could do about it right now. Her cell phone was on airplane mode, and she’d worry about contacting Marsh later.

  If he was upstairs sleeping in her bed when she called, she’d ask the taxi to stop. Otherwise, she’d check into a hotel and call herself the biggest fool in love.

  But at least she tried.

  * * *

  Marsh ground his teeth as he quickly patted his pockets, making sure he still had his wallet. Fortunately, he’d put it in his side pocket, as Ginger had taught him.

  But why had he left the tickets hanging out of his back pocket?

  Because he hadn’t trusted leaving them at her apartment and he didn’t want them bent and folded.

  “Did anyone see where those guys went with the tickets?” He asked the people gathered around.

  “He sold them to a guy with gold rings,” one of the girls said. “I was trying to get your attention, but you were on the phone.”

  “Where did they go?”

  No one knew for sure, and Marsh realized he wasn’t going to get any help from them. It was time to use his instincts and figure out what Evan would do.

  Marsh exited the club and circled around the building.

  If they had left the building already, he’d have no chance of finding them, but if they were hiding out, waiting for him to leave, he still had a shot at nabbing them.

  He pulled his dark brown jacket over his checked shirt and melted into an alley catty corner to the bar where he had a good view of both the front entrance and the back door.

  Fifteen hundred dollars.

  What had he been thinking?

  Marsh blew on his hands to warm them and settled in for the long wait. This wasn’t too different from hiding in a duck blind, but at the same time, if they’d hightailed it out of the bar, he was wasting his time.

  Not that he had anything else he could do.

  After about fifteen minutes, a woman’s voice caught his attention. Three figures emerged from the bar and came his way.

  “Where are those tickets? I saw you take them.”

  It was Yvonne. Thank God, she was so obnoxious.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Evan said, pushing her away.

  “He doesn’t have the tickets anymore,” Slade said. “Why don’t you find Mr. Goldbug and bother him?”

  “Hey, maybe he’ll take you to the big bash. He paid three grand for the tickets.” Evan’s nasal voice sneered at the aggressive Yankees fan.

  “You were a great distraction,” Slade said. “If you leave us alone, we’ll give you a fifty dollar tip. Now go, scram. We never want to see you again.”

  Evan dangled a bill, but when Yvonne grabbed for it, he jerked it away.

  Together, the two backstabbing friends of Ginger laughed as they sauntered away from the bar.

  Yvonne had evidently left her coat and warm shoes inside. Huffing steam through her nostrils, she tottered back into the bar, in search of either Mr. Goldbug or heat.

  Marsh made his move, and before Evan and Slade could cross the street, he was in front of them.

  “Those tickets were mine.”

  “Who are you?” Evan mocked. “We don’t know you, do we?”

  “You best get out of our faces,” Slade said. “We don’t know nothing about those tickets.”

  “Stop acting. You swiped my tickets and sold them for three thousand. The money is mine.”

  “Here’s where we’re going to have to teach you a lesson.” Slade’s face darkened with a scowl. “You don’t get to come here and get in our faces. I’ve got a gun and I’ll use it too.”

  “Get lost, loser,” Evan jeered. “Go back to the country.”

  “What about Ginger? She’s your friend. What will she think when I tell her how you stole my tickets?” Marsh followed after them.

  “We don’t care.” Slade put his hand in his jacket pocket and lifted it so that something hard pointed at Marsh. “This is my last warning. Turn around. Start walking. Count to twenty and keep walking.”

  Marsh couldn’t go up against an armed man without the element of surprise, so he turned around and walked off. However when he counted to five, he snuck a glance, knowing they weren’t going to stick around and watch him or shoot into the throngs of people walking by.

  Luckily, the two men were still on foot and they were headed for Central Park.

  Yes! A place with trees and bushes, even in winter, was a definite advantage for him. They would stay on the paths, but he had no trouble trekking across the snow to cut them off.

  Besides, if he read it right, they hadn’t yet split the money. Evan, the smaller man had the money, but Slade, the guy with the gun could be planning on a double cross.

  Marsh sped up in a loping run once inside the park.

  Sure enough the two slowed their pace and looked over their shoulders. But Marsh was not on a path behind them. He was already halfway around a snow covered hedge, when the two miscreants stopped under an arbor.

  “Okay, give me my share of the take,” Slade said. “Fifteen hundred.”

  “You get five hundred for driving that hick away.”

  “If I hadn’t distracted that aggressive woman, neither of us would have gotten anything. She was prepared to take the tickets for herself.”

  While they argued, Marsh circled around the hedge and crouched on one side of the arbor. The idiots thought they were safe because no one was around.

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m giving you five hundred.” Evan backed away from Slade. “You stay back. I’ll put the money on this rock and we’ll call it even.”

  The gun was out in a flash. “Two thousand or I’ll put a hole in that pretty boy smile of yours.”

  Evan squealed and turned tail.

  Slade raised the gun and Marsh jumped, slamming into Slade so hard he knocked his own breath out.

  The gun skittered onto the snow and Marsh punched Slade square on the temple, knocking him out.

  Evan ran, slipping and sliding in his flashy loafers, entirely unsuitable for trekking across snow-covered dirt.

  Marsh easily chased him down and tackled him hard, the way he used to tackle running backs.

  “Give me the money, now.” Marsh yanked Evan’s right arm behind his back and twisted it.

  “Ow, ow, ow, let me go. Help. Let me go.”

  A few passers-by lurked in the shadows, but instead of coming to help Evan, they scurried off like roaches into the woodwork.

  Marsh crushed Evan into the snowbank and flipped through his pockets, finding a fat envelope full of bills.

  “Untie your tie,” Marsh ordered E
van.

  “No, at least give me a grand,” Evan begged. “Or I’ll call the cops. They’re arrest you and haul you off to jail.”

  “They wouldn’t even bother.” Marsh turned Evan onto his back and sat on him. He swiftly untied Evan’s tie and yanked him up by the arm.

  “What are you going to do to me? I’m Ginger’s friend, remember? She’s not going to like this.”

  “Shut up.” He dragged the sniveling idiot to where Slade lay, still unconscious.

  Shoving Evan down, he put his body weight on him and tied his hands together, wishing he had a real rope to hogtie the two men.

  He then removed Slade’s tie and bound Evan to Slade’s wrists. No doubt it wasn’t entirely secure, and the two of them would soon get loose, but it was enough time to let him make a clean getaway.

  He only hoped they didn’t know where Ginger lived, but to be on the safe side, he pocketed Slade’s gun.

  “Don’t try to find me, unless you want to come to Nebraska,” he warned the pale, panicked sleazebag. “I’ve got two brothers as bad as me, and an entire town of hunters.”

  Opening the envelope, he peeled out two fifty dollar bills. “Your tips. Be glad I’m a country boy. Thanks for the fun time out on the town.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ginger’s heart beat erratically as the taxicab approached her building. It looked dark and foreboding, looming under the almost full moon. The scaffolding was covered with snow, but there was no covering the Gothic spires at the top of the tower, and the fact that gargoyles spewed rainwater down the corners of the building.

  “Can you wait with me for a second?” Ginger asked the driver. “I need to call someone to come get me.”

  “I can walk you up there,” the driver said helpfully. “I’ll add ten minutes to the meter for my trouble.”

  “Actually, if he doesn’t come down, I’d like us to keep going. Just a second, okay?”

  The driver nodded and went back to playing with his phone.

  Ginger swallowed hard and turned on her phone. She had a missed call from Marsh and voice mail, but what was this? Text messages with pictures of him and a bunch of party girls?

  Why was he sending these to her?

  “Are you going to call him or not?” the driver said. “I have another fare if you’re done.”

  “Well, I’m your fare right now and the meter’s still running.” Ginger swiped past the text messages and went back to the phone app. Marsh had every right to have fun, but she hadn’t come so far to chicken out at the last minute.

  She hit Marsh’s number and took a deep breath. Everything hinged on if Marsh would answer her and what condition he was in.

  A million thoughts ran through her mind.

  He could be in bed with someone.

  He could be out at a club.

  He could be on his way back to Sapphire Falls.

  He could be …

  A man knocked on the window of the taxicab.

  Ginger slowly put her phone down and blinked at the face of the one man she couldn’t stay away from.

  “Marsh.” She opened the door at the same time the driver yelled out his window. “You need a ride?”

  “Ginger.” Marsh opened his arms wide, and she jumped into them. “Wow, what are you doing here? I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “There’s no other place I’d rather be. Oh, Marsh, I missed you so much.” She claimed his lips and embraced him hard.

  “All I could think of was you,” Marsh mumbled between slathering her with hot kisses. “I was going to go back. I called a cab—”

  She caught his lips with a series of kisses, and her heart leaped over her heels and all her worries floated off like a whiff of snow blowing off a New York rooftop.

  “Hey, lady, I hate to break this up, but are you coming or going?” The taxi driver stubbed out his cigarette on the snow.

  He took her bags out of the trunk and reached for Marsh’s suitcase.

  “Wait, hold it,” Marsh said. “I’m going wherever she goes. Ginger? Your decision.”

  “We stay, of course.”

  “I sold the tickets to the party. I’m sorry.”

  “Then we go to the one in Sapphire Falls.”

  “Should I load both your suitcases?” the driver interrupted.

  “No, leave them both,” Ginger said to the driver. “Marsh and I are going to spend tomorrow touring New York. Come back Tuesday morning.”

  “Here, let me pay,” Marsh said. “Please add the return trip for all your trouble.”

  “Really?” The gruff New York cabbie’s eyes widened with surprise.

  “Really,” Marsh said, handing him some bills. “Thanks for bringing my girl to me. Perfect timing.”

  * * *

  Marsh picked up Ginger as soon as the driver drove off. He wanted to hold her, squeeze her and carry her up to her room, but he also had to deal with the suitcases.

  “I wish this was more romantic,” he said, surprised at how cheesy he sounded. “But I don’t have enough hands to take everything up.”

  “You may put me down,” Ginger said. “I’m perfectly capable of dragging my roller bag up.”

  “I know you are, but let’s hurry. I have so much to tell you.”

  “Me, too, and I’m sorry I acted so badly at the bachelor’s auction.”

  “No, I was the bad one.” He opened the door to the apartment building and grabbed his suitcase and her roller bag. “I pretended I didn’t know you, because I was afraid you’d bid on someone else.”

  “You were watching me, so I did bid on Derek because I didn’t want you to think I was too available.” Ginger rushed to explain. “We only had a two-day deal.”

  “I know, and I didn’t know how to extend it.” He followed her up the narrow stairwell.

  “You should have asked,” Ginger said. “Or I should have asked.”

  She strode quickly down the corridor and took the key from his pocket since his hands were full. Her fingers trembling, she sucked in a breath and got the door open.

  He knew how she felt, wanting nothing more than to drop everything and feast on her—her kisses, her touch, her moans, and her wet sheath.

  Hurrying in after her, he dropped the luggage and shut the door.

  Either Ginger charged him, or he rushed her, but they crashed together against the wall, their mouths locked together in a kiss that was both hot and rough, heady with desire and missed opportunities.

  He flattened her against the wall, his mouth and tongue busy, but his hands busier, trying to get his winter clothes off.

  She gasped and mewed with sweet desperation as she ripped and tore at his clothes. Her tongue dipped into his mouth and he sucked it hard, unable to get enough of her. He wanted to touch, taste, feel, and be inside her, and he couldn’t get out of his clothes fast enough.

  Gloves went flying. Jackets and coats dropped to the ground. She broke the kiss just long enough to unzip her boots, and he took the opportunity to pull off his boots. She removed her coat and he tore off his jacket. He palmed her head and feasted on her lips, drinking greedily from her hot mouth while his cock strained at his jeans.

  She bit his lip and arched up, looping her hands around his shoulders. His hands slid down her side and grabbed her hips, pressing it against his hard length.

  “Marsh.” She grappled with him, rubbing her breasts against his chest and deepening the kiss. Her hands went to work on his shirt, popping buttons, as they searched for skin.

  Unable to contain his desire, he lifted her blouse and slid his hands under her bra. She drew in a needy breath and gasped when he rubbed her nipples.

  “Marsh, bed. Now,” she ordered as she shrugged off her blouse and unzipped her jeans.

  He undressed with lightning speed, and they were both naked as they tumbled onto the small twin bed. He was surrounded by the scent of her arousal, the sounds of her need, and the silky touch of her hot skin. Pure heaven.

  He kissed and caressed his
way down to her breasts, a perfect handful. Sucking hard, he drew those sweet tips into taut peaks.

  She was so sensitive and responsive to him, moaning and writhing, as her breathing got harder and faster. Could she be actually coming just from him sucking on her breasts?

  He let his hand wander down to the sweet junction between her legs. She was soaked, moist and slippery.

  “Please, Marsh, please, inside me, now,” she begged, and he felt the same intense need to complete her.

  “I don’t have that box—I left it.”

  “Does that mean you weren’t planning on …”

  “Only with you,” Marsh said, his breathing hot and bothered. “Since you weren’t coming, I didn’t need any.”

  “I feel the same way.” She fumbled through her nightstand and found a strip of condoms. “It’s been a while, I hope these aren’t expired.”

  “I’ll be careful.” He tore one of the packets, and she slipped the condom onto his cock.

  Her glorious body was laid out on the bed, inviting and warm, from her pretty pink nipples to the swell of her breasts, and the curves of her hips. Every inch of her was perfect and made just for him.

  His heart ballooned with an emotion so strong it almost bowled him over. This was not lust, although lust was part of it. This was not possession, although he wouldn’t ever want to part with her. This was not friendship, because it was that and more. This was not fear, because without that edge, he would not be alive. This feeling, this longing, this need—this could only be love.

  Carefully, almost reverently, he positioned the head of his cock at her entrance. Gazing deeply into her eyes, he soaked all of her in, her open, honest demeanor, the way she acted brave and strong, but with a tender, caring heart, and he knew without a doubt that he loved her.

  “Ginger,” he whispered. “You’re it for me. My last stop.”

  Her smile was sweet and confident, as she roped him in. “Then come on in and stay.”

  He plunged in every sweet inch. “I’ve waited my entire life for this.”

  She held him still, caressing his hips. “I’ve waited for you all my life.”

  Watching her, he began to move, and then she moved along with him, rocking their love together. The heat between them intensified as he gave into her cries and moans of pleasure.