Hold Me Fast (McCullough Mountain Book 7)

by Lydia Michaels

  He could only hope. “You look like your mother.”

  “I do. But I get my freckles from my father.”

  “I wonder if your children will be a clan of redheads with hot tempers.”

  She smiled softly. “I think a brood of blue eyed devils could be quite dashing.”

  Warmth spread in his chest as he imagined his own sons, perhaps a few daughters as well. “I think you’d make a fine wife, Maureen.”

  “You’ve not tasted my cookin’ yet.”

  “There’s lots to taste, but my gut tells me it will all be to my liking.”

  As their eyes met a thousand wishful thoughts seemed to pass between them. What was it about her that was so unlike every other woman? He loved her fiery spirit balanced by her nurturing nature. To him, she was a perfect mix of all things feminine.

  “How about a picnic tomorrow.”

  “Don’t you have work?” she asked.

  “After work. Do you think you could cook something for me, love?”

  “What do you like?”

  It had been so long since he’d had a home cooked meal made with love. “You decide. I trust your judgment.”

  She laughed. “Not a very wise thing to do, but I’ll bring you something good.”

  He drove her to a secluded section of the mountain where they wouldn’t be disturbed. It was possibly a foolish move on his part, but he did it anyway. She’d packed a wicker basket that smelled sensational and carried a tartan blanket in her arm.

  He spread the blanket so half was in the shade of a tall maple and half was in the late sun. Maureen was indeed a gifted chef. As she unloaded Tupperware, steam rose from savory cuts of turkey, fluffy stuffing, and hand whipped mashed potatoes. Everything tasted even better than it smelled.

  He ate until he was stuffed and Maureen seemed to take great pleasure in every bite he enjoyed. “You’re an amazing cook, love.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “Every bite.” Lying on his back, he reached for her hand. His fingers gently toyed with hers and her head tilted.

  “Why is it, when you touch me, I can barely think of anything else?” she asked.

  “I feel the same. I don’t know.”

  “Is it…did you find it was that way with other girls?”

  “No. No other woman has done to me what you do, Maureen O’Leahey. You’re one of a kind.”

  Her mouth curved sweetly as a blush stole over her freckled cheeks. “You just like my food.”

  “Your food, your smile, your smart mouth, your fine arse—”

  She smacked his shoulder.

  “It is a fine arse, love. You can’t deny it.”

  He laughed when she glanced over her shoulder at her bum. “I see nothing remarkable about it. My thighs are thicker than tree trunks and my hips are too wide.”

  He frowned. “Your thighs are as they should be and your hips will be a blessing if you ever get that big family you want. Don’t put yourself down, lass. It steals your beauty faster than any physical flaw ever could. You’re lovely as you are. Don’t ever question that.”

  “Even with this hair?”

  “Especially with that hair.” He watched her for a moment and suspected she was swiftly degrading every beautiful part of herself. Why did every woman have to nitpick? “That’s enough,” he said rolling her to her back and kissing her. “I’ll not have you pouting on such a lovely day.”

  She smiled as his mouth teased hers. “That’s a sure way to chase away my thoughts.”

  “Then every time I see you look a little sad I have to lay a kiss on your lips.”

  “Promise?”

  “Aye. Promise.” He kissed her long and deep and soon enough his body was fully engaged and wanting her more than ever.

  Breathing heavily, he eased back as her fingers pulled at the tiny buttons at her chest. Her dress was the deep red of marigolds with tiny yellow flowers. The entire front was made of a line of buttons from her chest to her ankles. “What are you doing, Maureen?”

  “Did you not want to see me?” she asked, a bit of worry clouding her eyes.

  He swallowed. “I want to see you very much, love, but we should—”

  “Then I’ll show you.” Her fingers continued down the line of buttons, not stopping until she was past her ribs.

  He didn’t blink and though every objection rested on his tongue, not a single word was spoken. Sitting back on his knees he waited, but she didn’t move to part her dress.

  “You do the rest.”

  His throat was bone dry. “The buttons?” had she meant for him to unbutton the entire outfit?

  She nodded. “If you like.”

  In a trance, his hands slowly unclasped each button, his mind bargaining and promising he’d eventually stop before things spun wildly out of control. Little flashes of alabaster skin peeked through the red material as his breathing turned labored.

  As he reached the last button he slowly swallowed. She’d kicked off her shoes and her toes were covered by stockings shades darker than her true pigment. He would not touch her—penetrate, he corrected, he would not penetrate her. Licking his lips, he parted the dress and unveiled her body.

  Long, curvaceous legs, tapered at the ankle, plush at the thigh, were trapped in plain white garters. He admired her lower belly, concealed by all that women insisted to wear under their clothing, the shape of her full hips nipping into a trim waist. Pacing his breath, his gaze lifted to her breasts.

  Full, ripe, and mouthwatering, they filled the slight fabric of her brassiere. Satin covered her nipples, but by the way she was breathing he could see the press of each tip through the material. Her breasts lifted as she quietly watched him, looking up at him with her hair spread over the tartan, shades of fire and gold spun within.

  “You are lovely, Maureen.”

  “Do you want to see more?”

  “No,” he rasped. “I desperately want to know your body as well as I know my own, but that’s for another day. I’m quite content to just look at you now.”

  “And what about you? I’ve never seen a man’s body.”

  He arched a brow, liking her innocence. “Never?”

  “Well, I’ve seen my little cousins when they were babies, but I’m thinkin’ a man is quite different.”

  “Quite.”

  She lifted her shoulders, balancing on the backs of her elbows and causing her breasts to fill out more of the satin. “So shall we have a look at ya?”

  “You’ll be the death of me, Maureen O’Leahey.”

  “I haven’t killed you yet.” She arched a brow. “Come along then, let’s get to some of those buttons.”

  “I’m afraid not. Not today at least.”

  She pouted. “Why?”

  “Because with you lookin’ the way you do, if my clothes come off I’ll be sendin’ you home with a souvenir in your belly.” The warning did not have the effect he hoped. “What the bloody hell are you smilin’ about? Do you want a baby now?”

  Her grin grew as she brushed a hand over her flat belly. “It would be nice. I don’t think waitin’ several years will make me any better of a mum.”

  And oddly, he agreed with her. She’d make a fine mother. “My first born won’t be a bastard. If you want my children you’ll be takin’ my name first.”

  “Are you offering, Frank McCullough?”

  Was he? It seemed a mere thread, spun of fantasy and hope, separating where they were from reality. What stopped them from moving onward, marrying, and starting a family? “Aren’t you afraid to marry someone you hardly know?”

  She shrugged. “I’d think marriage would make you get to know someone better than any number of dates ever could. I’m willing to bet people date for years and still marry someone they never truly met. Every honeymoon ends.”

  “And you’d risk that?”

  “With a man like you? Well, I think the odds are in my favor. I’m no peach.”

  Ah, but he bet she was as sweet as one. “Eve
ry peach can be a little tart at spots.”

  She laughed. “Are you calling me a tart then?”

  “I’m calling you beautiful. Sexy. Lovelier than any sunset and brighter than any star.” If anyone heard him spouting such sap he’d never live it down, but she had him under some sort of incantation.

  “Now you can’t say things like that and not kiss me—”

  Kiss her he did, long and passionately. The heat of her bare flesh scorched him through his clothing. Everything inside of him wanted to run off with her and never come back. He’d never suffered such greed, such longing to possess another person. His mouth ripped away from hers as they panted.

  Her head fell back and her fingers delicately toyed with his hair. “I’ll marry you, Frank McCullough, if you asked me to that is.”

  His heart thundered so hard behind his ribs it nearly knocked him out. Slowly, he caressed the swell of her breast and she inhaled, filling his hand with soft, feminine flesh. “Christ, Maureen. You make it hard for a man to do right.”

  “If you gave me your word I’d let you have me now.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Her face lowered. “Oh.”

  He tipped her chin upward. “You listen to me, Maureen O’Leahey. I’d make you a McCullough tomorrow if I could, but your father would never have it.”

  “In a month, his opinion won’t matter.”

  He shook his head. “You’re a good girl. Your father’s opinion of you will always matter.”

  “Yes, but it’s my life and I’m the one who has to live it. I’m falling in love with you, Frank, and I don’t know how to stop.”

  The world stilled as her words sank into his soul. That’s what this was. Love. “I’m falling in love with you too.”

  She shifted, sitting on her knees, uncaring that her dress gaped wide. “Let’s get married. I know it’s soon, but who cares. Plenty of girls my age get married. What good would it do to wait?”

  Suddenly everything was moving way too fast. He couldn’t breathe and his fingers began to tingle. Standing, he paced. “You have to slow down, Maureen. We’re rushing things. You only met me a few weeks ago.” He wouldn’t be panicking if such a large part of him weren’t so eager to agree with her. That wasn’t the responsible thing to do and he should know better.

  “Wait for what? All my life people have told me to prepare for what comes after high school.” She swung out her arms. “Well, here I am! What the bloody hell good am I? Sure, I can type and answer a telephone, but I’d rather put a pistol in my mouth than sign up for a life sentence of fetching coffee and having orders barked at me by someone I don’t love.”

  “But you’d sign up to a lifetime of cooking and keeping house, changing diapers and mending clothes?”

  “Yes, because those things would be mine. It would be a labor of love. What do I own if I’m only doing menial tasks for someone else?”

  “You don’t know if you’ll feel that way in ten years. Women are different now. They want to work.”

  “And what happens in five years when I still feel the same and I’ve wasted time waiting for an unwanted epiphany. I know what I’m good at, Frank. I don’t have many skills, but I know how to love and my mum taught me that’s all you need to know to be a good wife and mother.”

  He stared at her, not completely trusting her certainty. She was young, too young to decide her life it seemed, yet he’d not changed much since graduating either. Maybe she was right. “Do you also know how to bake?”

  She laughed. “I can bake a cake that will bring you to your knees.”

  He chuckled. “I bet you can.”

  She glanced down at her gaping dress and sighed. Shaking her head, she began fastening the long line of buttons. “I don’t want to marry you anyway.”

  “What?” She’d changed her mind? After all that?

  “What the hell good is a man that can’t make up his mind? I need another indecisive person in my life like I need a third tit.”

  “Well maybe you’ll be needin’ an extra tit since you’re in such a rush to run off and start having babies! For cryin’ out loud, Maureen! I said we needed to slow down. Is it always all or nothing with you?”

  She paused as if to consider this. “Yes.”

  He dragged his palm over his face and growled. “I’ll bloody marry you!”

  She stood. “Oh, forget it now. Any man that wants me, knows it. I can’t have you hemming and hawing about, deciding it will only work if the weathers just right and my father’s in an agreeable mood. We’ll be waitin’ ‘til we’re gray that way. I don’t have time for that shit.”

  She snapped the last of her buttons and fisted her hands on her hips. “You can take the leftovers home, but I want my Tupperware back.”

  He gaped at her as she stood like an admiral about to go to battle over some plastic dishes. “You’re crazy.”

  “It’s top of the line Tupperware.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about the damn dishes! I think you’re certifiably insane.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.” She bent to fold the blanket. “This will need to be washed.”

  His shoulders swelled with each heavy breath as he watched her fold the silly blanket with a palpable air of indifference. He wanted to throttle her. She had him all over the map. One moment she was an enchantress and the next she was the most infuriating woman he’d ever stumbled across.

  How could any woman be that stubborn, that rigid and decidedly set on something? She packed up the basket and shoved it in his direction, her face averted. “Here.” She sniffled.

  He took the basket and frowned. “Look at me.”

  “I don’t want to look at you right now.”

  Dropping the basket to the grass, he reached her in half a step and turned her face. There, trembling above her copper lashes, was a wall of unshed tears. “You’re upset.”

  She shook him off. “Don’t be ridiculous. Upset over what? You?” She laughed. “I don’t think so.”

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her close, not letting her escape this time. “You have tears in your eyes. Why?”

  “Pollen.”

  “Liar.”

  “It’s true. The air here is for shit.”

  “I’ve never heard a woman curse as much as you.”

  “Well, no one’s stopping you from covering your fuckin’ ears if you find my language so offensive too.”

  “Too? What else did I find offensive?” he asked, genuinely curious.

  She laughed without humor. “Oh, please. I saw the way you looked at me, like some…whore.” Her voice cracked and his heart pinched. “You make me practically beg for you to touch me, but you’ve touched other women.”

  Releasing her arm he stepped back and scowled. “I did not call you a whore, Maureen, nor did I look at you like one. You mistake respect for judgment. If you had as much respect for yourself as I do, we wouldn’t be havin’ this argument—”

  The slap came out of nowhere. “Saying I have no self-respect is no different than calling me a whore, Frank!”

  He caught her wrist and growled. “Now that’s the second time you slapped me and I’m warning you now it’ll be the last.”

  “Oh, so you’re suddenly going to find manners?”

  His nostrils flared as he let out a harsh breath. “You’re eager for something you know nothin’ about, girl.”

  Her arm tugged, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Get your hand off me before I plant the heel of my shoe right in your crotch.”

  He was as equally turned on as he was furious, but something told him to heed her warning. He let her go and stepped back. “You need—”

  “Shut up.”

  He turned, sensing he’d truly wounded her with his words, but unsure what exactly had pushed her past her limit. He didn’t mind her in a temper, but the hurt he saw on her face now disarmed him. “I was going to say—”

  “I’ll meet you at the truck.” She turned and bustled away.

 
; Staring at the heavens he opened his hands in a pleading gesture. “She’s a lunatic, isn’t she? You sent me a faulty model.” Grumbling, he marched after her. “Maureen.”

  She was already sitting in the truck, her head bowed low, clearly upset.

  Refusing to let her leave angry, he opened her door. “Why are you ignoring me?”

  “Leave me alone.” She sniffled.

  “Maureen.” He grabbed her hand but she pulled her arm away as if his touch scalded her. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

  Hard green eyes turned on him. “You called me ‘girl’ and accused me of being a naïve fool. I might mistake respect for judgment, but you mistake trust for desperation. I’ve never been like this with anyone else, Frank. How dare you make me feel foolish or tawdry for wantin’ to be closer to someone I trust. Well, now maybe I am the fool.”

  His anger gave way as he thought about the harshness of his words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel foolish.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me, Maureen. I want you to trust me. I want you to feel free to ask me about anything, including intimacy, but I also want you to trust me that I’ll not lose control. I turned you down because I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.”

  “You called me ‘girl’.”

  “You are a girl.”

  Her eyes met his. “But you said it as if I were less than you.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I said it because you were getting the better of me and I was frustrated. That’s all. It was a foolish choice of words and I’ll not use it again if it upsets you.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  It seemed wrong, too easy to love her so fast and so much. Like a salesman presenting the answer to every prayer, it seemed only right to be skeptical. They barely knew each other, yet…he wanted her forever and his mind seemed set on that. How was that possible? “You frighten me, Maureen. I don’t think it’s right to fall in love this fast.”

  “Paulie’s going to be your partner. He’s your best friend and in a couple weeks he’ll be my brother-in-law. I don’t think there’s a way we’ll be escapin’ each other.”