Hurricane Bride

by Beth Williamson

  “I really screwed up my life, Penny.” Claire leaned against the horse and absorbed the warmth from her great body.

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Boyd’s voice somehow didn’t surprise her.

  “You’ve no idea what I’ve done and haven’t done.” She sighed against Penny’s neck.

  “It doesn’t matter what you did.” He appeared in the doorway to the stall. “It only matters what you do today and tomorrow. We can’t change the past, but we can change what we do in the future.” His bright blue eyes almost glowed in the dim light of the barn.

  “Easy to say, but hard to accept.”

  He handed her a curry brush. “Penny loves to be brushed twice. I find it relaxes both of us when I do it.”

  She took the brush from him and began to groom Penny again. The mare shook her mane and almost seemed to sigh in pleasure.

  “Some days I wish I were a horse, a simple life with simple needs.” Claire had gotten too tangled in other people’s expectations and had forgotten her own.

  Boyd took the bucket from Penny’s stall. “I’ll get her some fresh water, too, while she’s being spoiled.”

  Claire was glad to not look at Boyd, because words crowded in her throat, eager to burst free. She was about to confess her biggest failure to someone she’d known for such a short time.

  “My wedding was going to be beautiful. I never imagined being a hurricane bride. I damn sure hadn’t ordered a monster storm, but it arrived on my wedding day like an unwanted party crasher. Who knew hurricanes actually hit Atlanta? It’s so far inland, the odds were astronomical.” She stopped to take a breath.

  “You mean, the hurricane that just passed through like two weeks ago?” Boyd hung up the bucket, but she kept her eyes on the mare.

  “Yep. There it was in all its glory, although it was downgraded to a Tropical Depression. Walloped the city with sixty-mile-per-hour winds and buckets of rain. The beautiful ceremony I’d planned to the nth detail at the botanical gardens turned into a backup plan at the local hotel with scratchy conference chairs and frizzy hair.” Her laugh held no humor.

  Boyd leaned against the stall door and folded his arms, quiet, listening.

  “I had planned the perfect day. One unfortunate circumstance after another forced me into a corner. We ended up in a hotel conference room. The day I’d dreamed of all my life did not involve rose-patterned carpet and twelve guests.” She noted that her hands trembled so she set the curry brush back in the holder. “My family from Texas couldn’t come because of the weather. Pearl and Manny were the only people on my side.”

  “I’m sorry. That sounds devastating.” There was genuine compassion in his voice, which she appreciated. More than she could say.

  Her stomach had been tight as a fist as she’d stood facing her fiancé, Richard Crowder, a man who valued control as much as she did. A muscle tic in his jaw had alerted her that the situation was worse than she’d imagined.

  His glossy blond hair had been slicked back, his tuxedo the picture of crisp perfection. The wide shoulders that had attracted her to him three years ago had been ramrod straight, and he’d smelled of his preferred scent sandalwood, while she’d smelled of sweat and fear, not happiness and light.

  The officiant had been a local minister she didn’t know but had come highly recommended. He turned out to be a rotund man with perpetually red cheeks and laughing blue eyes. Why would he have been in a good mood? The day had been one disaster after another.

  Her palms had grown slick with sweat as the ceremony progressed, minute after excruciating minute. Wasn’t a wedding supposed to be the most joyful day of a woman’s life? Why had she been miserable and nauseated? She’d hardly heard the words and mumbled the expected responses.

  She’d worn the perfect gown. It was from an expensive designer and had cost nearly ten thousand dollars. But it had become waterlogged and weighed a ton, dragging her shoulders down until they’d cramped. The day could not possibly get any worse.

  And then it had.

  “He told me he was in love with someone else as we stood there saying our vows. I’d moved to Atlanta for a job, a job he insisted I take. He had engineered my future, and I’d let him. Then he yanked the rug out from beneath me at our wedding.” She let that confession drift on the air, feeling as though she’d shed twenty pounds of weight by telling someone what had happened. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry. No, she’d nursed the fury that built in her chest. It wasn’t that she had been humiliated or ashamed of what happened. Richard had derailed the wedding, not her.

  No, it was the little voice inside her that whispered she still wasn’t good enough for any man on the planet.

  “That was a shitty thing to do. However, I think you’re too strong to let anyone engineer your future.” His quiet words gave her pause.

  “You don’t know me well enough to say that.” She desperately wished it were true, though.

  “I trust my instincts about people, and they tell me you are a genuine person who maybe lost her way a little.” He stepped toward her and she froze. “You’re as strong as you let yourself be.”

  She swallowed, not surprised to find her body heating at Boyd’s nearness. She’d seen him nearly naked, and the memory of his muscled form pleasuring himself raced through her mind like a pornographic slide show. If she had truly loved Richard, would she be lusting after another man so soon after her failed wedding?

  Was she about to throw herself at him?

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  Claire’s heart beat so hard, her ears began to hurt. She needed to get all of it out. Her story had begun last fall, a festering wound within that had grown out of control and she lost who she was.

  “That’s not the whole story. I lived with Richard, so I had to move out, and he kindly gave me one day to get my stuff together. Since he was my boss, too, he eliminated my position the following day.” She swallowed hard. “I lost my fiancé, my home, and my job in a matter of three days. Then I came here to nurse my wounds and to avoid going back home with my tail between my legs like I’d made a mistake.”

  Telling Boyd everything relieved so much more than the pressure inside her. She had failed and now admitted she was at fault, no matter what Richard had done. Claire would forgive and move on, although it was a very hard lesson to accept.

  He took her hand in his. “I think that mistake is really your fortune. If you hadn’t almost married him, you wouldn’t have met Penny, Pearl, or Manny. Or lived at the Peach Bellini.” He rubbed his thumb on her palm and a shiver of awareness slid up her skin, raising goose bumps in its wake. “Or roomed with me.”

  “I’m glad I came here.” She was surprised to discover that was the truth. Pearl, Boyd, and Manny had made her feel like a part of the Peach Bellini family. Fate might not have been kind to her all the time, but the path that led her here was the right one. Fickle as it was, fate had done her a solid.

  “Can I show you something?” He waited while she considered what he was about.

  She wasn’t ready for bed, nor did she want to sit around and do nothing. “Sure.”

  He smiled, and her stomach did a little flip. They secured Penny’s stall door and he grabbed a blanket from the tack room on the way out. As left the barn out the back, she noted the heat of the day had left its mark on the night. The air was heavy with the perfumes of nature and the sounds of the katydids. He walked through the pasture and out the gate.

  “The property goes back about five acres, and it’s a long lot.” He took her hand as they made their way into the free.

  “Can you see where we’re going?”

  She could almost hear him smile. “I don’t need to. I know it like the back of my hand.”

  The old Claire wouldn’t have even gone with Boyd out into the lengthening darkness with no idea where they were headed. The new Claire had a kernel of excitement blooming inside her because she was on an adventure.

  They walked for another ten minutes before emer
ging into a clearing. The trees circled a grassy area with a few large stones on the edge. The silly little girl inside her thought it looked like a fairy circle. Fireflies blinked on and off, illuminating the grassy area, adding to the mystique of the spot.

  “How do you think this was made?” She walked around the perimeter in the thick grass and touched the rough bark of the trees.

  “My guess is this was made a long time ago, maybe a settler cleared it for a house a hundred fifty years ago.” He laid the blanket out on the grass. “There’s never been a tree that entered the circle, keeping its secret deep in these woods.”

  She shook her head. “You’re a romantic.”

  He lay down on the blanket and crossed his arms behind his head. “Maybe, but the view of the night sky from here is like having a private skylight.”

  Intrigued, she joined him and settled half a foot away. The heat of his body called to her, but she needed to keep distance between them. Boyd was tempting, too tempting by half. She had been engaged two weeks ago and had no business getting involved with a man, no matter how gorgeous he was.

  She blew out a breath and settled onto the soft fabric. He took her hand and laced his fingers with her. Claire accepted the sweetness of the gesture and looked up at the sky.

  In the quiet of the coming night, the bruised blue of the twilight gave way to the inky velvet of the sky. She watched as the stars emerged, winking and twinkling. The forest around them sang with the music of the night creatures, serenading the two humans who had entered their domain.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, awed by the bounty of nature around them. “I don’t remember the last time I laid out and watched the stars.”

  “I try to get out here at least once a month so I can watch the constellations change as the earth turns.”

  It seemed Boyd was very capable of rendering her speechless. He was thoughtful, intelligent, romantic, and sexy. A man who walked away from a law career to lie on the ground once a month to see the stars, to treat blisters with incredible gentleness, and fix sprinklers. It was a simple life, and it suited him. At the same time, he had depth of character.

  Her eyes pricked with tears at the chance meeting of Boyd Rowe. Why couldn’t she have met him before now? Before she was so twisted in knots, she didn’t know her ass from her elbow?

  “Claire?”

  She managed to swallow her emotions before she responded. “Yes?”

  “Can I kiss you?”

  *

  Boyd didn’t know he’d been holding his breath until she spoke, then the air whooshed out of his lungs.

  “You want to kiss me? I’m pretty screwed up, Boyd.” She sounded as though she didn’t believe any man wouldn’t want to kiss her plump, raspberry-colored lips.

  “Aren’t all of us screwed up in one way or another? I certainly am. The choices I’ve made have been mine for the last fifteen years. Not always the smartest, but they were mine to own.” He shimmied closer to her. “I like you, and I hope you like me. All I want is a kiss.”

  He’d wanted to tell her that he knew she’d watched him playing with himself. That the knowledge she’d been watching made him that much harder, his orgasm that much more intense. It had been titillating to know he’d been watched and, if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d enjoyed herself. The thought of that sensual moment made his dick hard, pushing against his zipper, eager for more pleasure.

  “I can say no?”

  “Of course you can.” He leaned back to look at her. “I would never, and have never, forced a kiss on anyone. If you don’t like me, I’m cool with that. You’ve had a tough month, and kissing a groundskeeper is a lot less than you’re used to—”

  She put her fingers against his mouth. “Less than what I’m used to?” She snorted. “My fiancé dumped me at the altar for another woman. How much lower can a man get? You’re better than him, Boyd. A better person, a better human, a better man.”

  He was silent, absorbing her words, pleased by them. Boyd was the man his mother had raised him to be in her own quirky way. They’d never had much except each other, but she had ingrained a sense of personal honor in him, and a strong work ethic. She would always have at least two jobs, sometimes more. A compliment like Claire’s was one for his mother, gone for five years now. Mom would have liked this kitchen helper and horse wrangler from Texas.

  He cupped her cheek, the skin as soft as a rose petal. “Thank you. I’m going to give all the credit to my mother. I’m sure yours is as wonderful, or she wouldn’t have a daughter like you.”

  Claire’s breath hitched. “I always fought her about everything. She wanted me to be something I wasn’t, or at least I always felt that way. My twin brother was the mediator. It’s funny how we resent our parents until we’re old enough to realize how right they were. About everything.”

  “Don’t let your mistakes define you, Claire. They’re lessons and experiences that can guide us to make better choices and better decisions.” His mouth was a mere inches from hers, close enough to pull her breath into his body.

  “Kissing you might not be a good decision.” Her breathing had changed, become choppy and uneven.

  So she was attracted to him, too. His dick did a little dance, and he hoped like hell she didn’t feel it reaching for her.

  “Yes, but is it the right decision?” He moved closer until the heat from her mouth brushed against his.

  “Maybe.” She licked her lips and her tongue touched him.

  He groaned and pressed his mouth to hers, breaths mingling. Small, teasing kisses to begin. When he heard the tiny moan in her throat, he deepened the kiss, their mouths fusing, tongues sliding.

  It was like jumping into a cool pond on a hot day, bracing, addictive, spectacular. Kissing Claire was enough to make his entire body harden and throb, aroused and eager. He didn’t want to scare her or push her comfort zone, although he wanted to tear off their clothes and plunge into her warmth until neither of them could see straight.

  He ratcheted back his passion, reining it in until he shuddered from the effort. Claire wrapped her arm around his neck and tried to pull him closer. He wanted to take what she offered, more than his body could express, but it wasn’t the right time.

  He gentled the kiss, pulling back until his ears rang from the pounding of his pulse. “Damn, that was good.”

  “It can be better.” She reached for him and he kissed her hard, just once.

  “It will be.”

  A few beats passed before she spoke. “But not now.”

  He pulled her into his arms and pressed her breasts against his chest. It felt damn good.

  “There are no rules, honey, except those we impose on ourselves. We’re adults exploring each other, but that doesn’t mean we need to jump off the cliff all at once.” He kissed her delicate ear, inhaling the scent of all that was Claire. Shampoo, a little cinnamon, and her unique blend of woman. “I want you and that’s not going to change if we don’t get naked right now.”

  “What if I want to get naked?” She sounded a little put out with him.

  He chuffed a laugh. “I won’t stop you. Your choice, Claire. This is your life and your decision.”

  “You’re such a damn gentleman.” She sighed, her hot breath tickling his neck. “Maybe now isn’t the right time. Unless you brought protection?”

  “Believe it or not, I don’t carry condoms with me in case a random woman wants to have sex with me.”

  “I’m not a random woman.”

  “No, you’re a very special one.” He moved back until they no longer touched. His dick might never forgive him. “And that means if we do get naked, it’s going to be as special as you are.”

  She squeezed his hand. “That’s probably the sweetest thing any man has ever said to me.”

  “Then you’ve dated a bunch of idiots.”

  This got a laugh. “Yes, yes I have. Almost married one, too.”

  “Do you want to talk about him?” Might as well figure out what ma
n got her to agree to be married.

  “Now? When my body is still buzzing from that make-out session?” She grunted. “I’d rather not think about him at all.”

  “Okay. How about we lay out here a bit longer and watch the stars and hold hands?” He turned onto his back and waited with his arm raised.

  She snuggled up next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. “I think I’d like that.”

  As he wrapped his arm around her curvy body, contentment rolled through him. She fit there by his side. As though she belonged there.

  *

  In the two days since the star-gazing kissing incident, Claire had been on pins and needles. She hadn’t been this aroused by a man in her life. Her skin tingled at the slightest touch, even from a breeze. Her nipples were in a permanent state of hardness and her pussy throbbed just walking.

  What had Boyd done to her?

  She appreciated his gallantry in waiting to have sex. Their make-out session had put her engine into gear and it rumbled every moment since. Boyd had smiled at her whenever they saw each other. Once he’d stolen a kiss behind the barn that made her toes curl.

  She lay in bed that morning, listening to hear if he was in his room pleasuring himself. What would happen if she snuck in there and joined? Would he turn her away or welcome her?

  It was time to get up and get to the kitchen to help Pearl with breakfast. No time to fantasize or follow through on a plot to jump his bones. She got up and padded to the bathroom. Boyd’s door was wide open and the bed already made.

  Well, that settled it anyway. She stomped into the bathroom and found one of his green notes taped to the mirror. Her annoyance fled in an instant.

  Claire,

  Roses are red,

  Violets are blue,

  You’re more beautiful than a sunrise

  I can’t wait to kiss you.