“I know!” She pressed closer to him and tightened her grip, shaking with pent-up energy and need. “I thought I could keep our relationship platonic and uncomplicated, but...I can’t ignore what I’m feeling anymore.”
His body vibrated with leashed desire. “But your leg—”
“Let me worry about my leg. It’s not an issue for me.” She plowed her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer, until her forehead bumped his and their breath mingled. “The hot, prickly feeling crawling through me and making me crazy is an issue.”
“Violet...” His voice was a husky, warning growl.
“Gunnar, Piper called it right that first day. I’ve felt the heat between us, the sparks, the chemistry even when my leg was throbbing and my kids were crying and the worries of the world were crashing down around us.” She smacked a kiss on his lips and stroked her toes down his calf. “And the thing is, with everything that’s happened these past couple of weeks and the way you’ve responded...your patience with my boys, the way you’ve cared for me and protected us and opened up to me about the loss of your parents...”
Gunnar’s eyes were wary but smoldering with a piercing intensity.
“Well—” her breath caught in her chest “—it all just makes me want you more. Sexual chemistry I can fight. But I don’t want to fight sexual chemistry backed by respect and affection and gratitude and friendship and—”
His mouth caught hers in a breath-stealing kiss, cutting her off. When he broke the kiss, angling his head for better access, he muttered, “You talk too much, Tinkerbell.”
She grinned as he seized her lips again and let her body, her hands, her kisses do the talking for her. She shimmied out of her sleep shirt and helped him lose his pajama pants, eager to feel his body against hers, skin to skin.
Despite telling him he needn’t worry about her leg, he shifted carefully, avoiding her injured thigh, to position himself on top of her, between her legs, his hips nestled intimately against hers. Violet savored the heat and friction of his body on hers as he covered her with deep, open-mouthed kisses from her jaw, down her throat, to her breasts, her navel and back up to seal her lips with his. Every place he touched caught fire, her skin alive with crackling energy.
Her fingers explored the hard ridges and defined planes of his chest and abs while her tongue teased his earlobes and the hollow of his throat. He rewarded her efforts with guttural groans of satisfaction and more avid attention to those places on her that ached most for his touch. He tweaked her nipples lightly, and she gasped as sweet sensation shot straight to her core. He sucked one peaked breast into his mouth and caressed it with his tongue until her hips bucked off the bed, and she wrapped her legs around him with a moan. “Oh, Gunnar...”
Sliding one hand down the curve of her bottom, he reached between them to stroke her intimately. A tremor raced through her as the coil of desire inside her reached its limits. “Now, Gunnar. Please...”
When he didn’t answer her plea, she reached for him. Her fingers closed around the proof of his desire, and his whole body jerked and stiffened. He released a hiss through his teeth, and he growled her name in a rasping pant.
She wiggled against him, the crisp hairs on his chest causing tantalizing tingles to spiral through her. “Please, Gunnar...”
“Condom,” he grunted, levering away from her with obvious regret. His gaze locked on hers with smoky heat and ferocity. “Don’t. Move.”
He launched off the bed and stumbled to his dresser, where he yanked open a drawer and pillaged the contents with reckless abandon. He returned in seconds, ripping open a box and tearing into the foil packet with his teeth.
He climbed back onto the bed with her, his hands shaking as he covered himself, and he grumbled a curse when the condom wouldn’t unroll fast enough. Chuckling, she knocked his hands out of the way, taking over the task before he ripped the thing in his haste. “Easy, soldier. I’m not going anywhere.”
His head rocked back into the pillow, his neck arching, and another low groan rumbled from his chest as she settled the prophylactic in place. “You’re killing me, Tink.”
“Good.” She stretched out on top of him and brushed a kissed over his lips. “That was the plan.”
Wrapping her in a firm grip, he rolled her onto her back and settled between her legs in a heartbeat. Violet held her breath, anticipation zinging through her blood and making her body pulse with need. When he pushed inside her, her hands curled against his back, clutching, clinging. She arched into him, savoring the building tension but also feeling a growing tightness in her chest. The tender ache had nothing to do with her imminent climax and everything to do with the flood of emotions that crashed down on her, all centered around the generous, caring, protective warrior in her arms. With their bodies joined and her emotions raw, denying what she felt for Gunnar was useless. She was falling in love with him.
That thought followed her as she careened into the maelstrom of an earthshaking climax. Gunnar caught her sigh of pleasure with a deep and tender kiss. His own body shuddered, and his arms tightened around her as he joined her in release. The moment was perfect. Her body quivered in the aftermath of the best sex she’d ever had. Tears of affection and awe leaked from her eyelashes.
But Violet couldn’t get past one intrusive, sobering thought. She and Gunnar were all wrong for each other.
Chapter 13
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Gunnar asked as they approached the front door of the main ranch house. “My family is great, but they can be kinda overwhelming all at one time.”
Violet gave him a wry smile as she nodded. “I’m sure. After ten days of near isolation, I’m ready for a little overwhelming.”
Overwhelming. The word fit what he was feeling that morning, in the wake of their lovemaking. As if by unspoken mutual agreement, neither of them had spoken that morning about what had happened in her bed last night. They’d shared a kiss or two as they fixed coffee and prepared to join his siblings for Thanksgiving festivities, but they’d both pulled back as their departure for the main house neared. They seemed of the same accord that they’d play it cool around his family, not give his siblings reason to speculate about the changes in their relationship—especially when he wasn’t sure himself what, if anything, had changed. Maybe Violet saw their sex as just sex, just the convergence of opportunity, desire and consenting adults...even if he knew it had been nothing of the sort for him.
Something had happened to him last night that had rattled him to his marrow—something he couldn’t explain, couldn’t define, couldn’t get out of his head.
“As restful as your cabin is,” she was saying, and he forced his attention back to the topic at hand, “the quiet and solitude are not what I’m used to.”
He forced a grin, even though the reminder of their differences stuck under his ribs like a fist. And maybe that was at the root of his sense of unbalance this morning. As great as the sex had been last night, he was crazy to think she’d ever be happy in a relationship with him. Forgetting who she was and what her normal life was like was too easy to do when he had her all to himself in the privacy of his cabin and snuggled against him in his bed. But his time with Violet was almost up. She’d healed well and could take care of herself now with minimal assistance. Tamping down the swelling knot of disappointment in his chest, he gave the door a cursory knock before opening it and standing back for Violet to go first.
“We’re here,” he called into the family room as they hung their coats on the hooks by the front door.
“In the kitchen!” Emma’s voice rang from deeper inside the house.
Gunnar led Violet into the family room where Sawyer and Rani sat on the floor, playing with Mason and Hudson.
As usual, Mason saw Violet first and pushed to his feet. “Mommy!”
Violet bent at the waist to greet her toddler, who charged toward her with a clumsy gait. Hudson, his attention called to Violet’s presence by his brother’s shout, also climb
ed to his feet to rush toward Violet. Gunnar stooped to intercept the pair, scooping them both up so that Violet wasn’t unbalanced and knocked down. He propped the twins at his hips so she could hug and kiss them both.
“Thank you,” she said, stroking Gunnar’s cheek with her palm and flashing him a special smile for having anticipated her predicament.
“No problem.”
Even though Piper and Sawyer were out of school on Thanksgiving break all week, Piper had brought the toddlers up to Gunnar’s cabin for a few hours of play time with Violet each day. Despite her limited mobility, Violet had sat on the floor playing trains or blocks or reading books until he could see the exhaustion in her face. At that point, he mock-wrestled with the energetic boys and took them outside to run in the yard, wearing them out for their afternoon naps at the main ranch house.
Now Gunnar buzzed his lips against each of the boys cheeks, eliciting the giggles and squeals he’d grown so fond of in the past two weeks. Who’d have thunk it? A hardened war veteran like him growing so attached to a couple mop-headed imps like Violet’s twins. “Happy turkey day, guys.”
“Gobba gobba!” Mason said.
“That’s right, sweetie.” Violet kissed her son again. “A turkey says gobble gobble.”
“Down!” Hudson whined.
When they squirmed, ready to play again, Gunnar set the twins on the floor, and they toddled back to the train set with Sawyer.
He motioned to the oversize couch. “Make yourself at home. I’m just going to stick my head in the kitchen to see if I’m needed.”
Violet took his arm and pivoted toward the room from which tantalizing smells wafted. “Lead on. I want to say hello to Emma.”
Gunnar helped Violet hobble into the kitchen, where they found Emma kneading dough, Piper mixing a bowl of batter and Tate carving a large turkey.
After various greetings and cheek kisses were exchanged, Gunnar studied the sticky dough on Emma’s hands. “What are you doing? I thought I ordered premade rolls.”
“You did. But I want to learn to make my own bread like Caleb’s family does.” She held up her dough covered fingers. “I’m thinking it needs more flour. It’s not supposed to be sticky like this.”
“Are Caleb and his girls coming today?” Gunnar asked.
Emma nodded nervously. “Yes. They’ll be here in about an hour, so be on your best behavior.”
“Aw, tomato-head,” Tate said, his cheek dimpled with a grin, “where’s the fun in that? Besides, Caleb should know what he’s getting, marrying into our family.”
Emma rolled her eyes and shook more flour on her dough.
“Give me a job. I want to help.” Violet limped forward and peered in the bowl Piper was mixing.
“Shouldn’t you be resting your leg?” Emma asked.
“Actually, Derek wants me to start using it some so the muscles don’t get weak. It’s healed well and barely hurts anymore. Besides, I can sit at the table and chop or mix something.” She pulled out a chair and sat down at the trestle table in the adjoining breakfast nook. “Put me to work.”
Emma nodded once. “All right then. Gunnar, grab those pecans. Violet can chop them up for the pie. And you can start peeling potatoes and carrots at the sink, then give them to Violet to cut up.”
They joined the amiable flow of dinner preparation, laughing and teasing each other as they worked. Violet was a good sport about Piper’s continued fan-girl behavior, going so far as to promise her tickets to her next movie premiere.
“OMG! Are you serious? I’d love that!” Piper rushed over to the table and hugged Violet. “That would be awesome!”
“Down, girl,” Gunnar warned with a grin. “I’m her bodyguard today, and I will take you down if you harass the lady.”
Piper flipped him a saucy smirk. “I dare you.”
Gunnar’s eyebrows shot up, and he dropped the vegetable peeler in the sink. “You asked for it...”
Piper’s eyes and grin both widened as he charged toward her, lowered a shoulder and carefully planted it in her stomach. She grappled as he lifted her, holding her legs and dangling her over his back in a fireman’s hold.
Derek walked in the back door and deposited a casserole dish on the stove. “I see we’ve descended into chaos right on schedule.”
“Derek, help!” Piper squawked.
“Gushy Sue was crowding the movie star,” Tate explained.
Derek turned back to Gunnar with a deadpan, “Carry on.”
“No!” Piper half laughed, half squealed as Gunnar lugged her to the living room and tossed her into the plush pillows of the sofa.
Violet’s twins saw the horseplay and laughing as an invitation to join in, and as he returned to the kitchen, the toddlers piled on top of Piper in a fit of giggles. Gunnar grinned to himself. Toddler wrestling had become one of his favorite ways to entertain the boys in the past few days. Not only did it wear them out before their naps, a boon in and of itself, but he enjoyed the horseplay, too. Though he kept his wrestling with the twins much tamer and gentler, the grappling matches reminded him of the rough and tumble games he used to play with their dad and later with Derek and Tate.
“Sounds like Mason and Hudson are having fun,” Violet said.
“Boys will be boys.” A pang of longing stabbed Gunnar as he picked up where he’d stopped peeling vegetables. After Violet left his cabin, who would the twins have to roughhouse with? Little boys needed a father figure, a role model...someone to play catch and teach them to throw a football. He cast a quick side glance to Violet, who was laughing with Emma about the massive quantity of pecans she’d chopped. The thought of another man at Violet’s side, filling the role of husband and father, stirred an acid gnawing in his gut. The prospect of picking up a gossip magazine one day and seeing Violet pictured with some Hollywood pretty boy made him want to puke. She deserved more than a handsome face and A-list star power.
But what could he do about it? He’d already laid out a rather convincing argument why he couldn’t make her happy, why his lifestyle and hers didn’t mesh. Regardless of what happened last night between them, he couldn’t burden her with all the messed up stuff from Afghanistan he was still dealing with all these months later.
I think you have PTSD, he heard Derek saying. Talk to a counselor. They can help.
Gunnar exhaled deeply. Wasn’t seeing a shrink the same as admitting defeat? A sign of weakness? An admission that you had no control in your life?
Piper had called those excuses caveman thinking, but what did she know? She might have a genius IQ, but she was still a teenager. She hadn’t seen the harsh realities of life he’d seen. He just needed more time to get the nightmares under control and push the memories down deep enough that he didn’t have flashbacks like the one in town almost two weeks ago.
“Geez, such a serious face. What are you thinking so hard about?” Tate asked, bumping Gunnar out of the way so he could wash his hands. “Peeling potatoes is not rocket science.”
Gunnar shook himself from his ruminations and shrugged. “Just deciding the best way to lace your potatoes with laxatives without ruining the rest for us.”
Tate snorted. “You do and I can have you arrested for assault on an officer.”
Gunnar flashed his brother an evil grin. “But it would be so worth it.”
An hour later, the Colton clan and their company gathered around the massive dining room table and joined hands to say a prayer of thanks.
“Mr. Perfect, will you say the blessing?” Emma asked Derek.
Gunnar glanced down the assembled faces and felt a catch in his chest. As much as he teased and ragged on his siblings, every one of them held a special place in his heart. Being with them this Thanksgiving, instead of settling for a short video chat from the front lines, meant the world to him.
The additional guests—Caleb Troyer and his daughters, who so clearly made Emma happier than she’d ever been; Rani Ogatani, the twins’ nanny; Hudson and Mason, whose high chairs had been pu
lled up to the table between Violet and Rani—were all welcome additions. But Violet’s presence at his family’s table made his breath hitch. Having her seated next to him felt ordained, and when she slipped her cool fingers in his hand for the prayer, a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with his sexual attraction to her and everything to do with the friendship and personal connection they’d shared the past ten days. Damn, but he didn’t want her to leave!
He squeezed her hand tighter and focused on what Derek was praying.
“We thank you, Lord, for this food, for new friends and for the blessing of this family. We ask a special prayer of protection for Tate as he leaves tomorrow for his undercover assignment and ask that you will help the missing Amish girls be returned safely to their families.”
“Amen to that,” Emma said with feeling, starting a chorus of amens around the table. She and Caleb exchanged a poignant look.
“Ah-men!” Mason piped in, and everyone chuckled.
“Man!” Hudson echoed, not to be outdone by his brother.
Gunnar grinned at the two boys he’d spent so much time with over the past ten days, and warmth expanded in his chest. Violet’s eyes sparkled as she ruffled Mason’s blond curls, and something in her expression made his own reaction to the boys click. Love. The truth shook him to the core and shifted something basic in his perception of his private, quiet little world.
Through all the rascals’ high jinks and mischief, he’d bonded with Violet’s children. Their innocent laughter, their sleepy smiles after their naps and the spark in their eyes that spoke of blossoming intelligence had burrowed into his heart. In his new reality, peace and quiet included the sound of toddlers babbling with each other as they played. Privacy meant keeping two innocent boys out of the media spotlight. Peace of mind was found in knowing the ones he loved were safe, happy and close by.
His hands fisted in his lap as these revelations settled in his brain. He glanced at Violet and held his breath. Where did this new understanding of what he wanted fit in her plans, her goals and aspirations? He knew he wanted Violet and the boys in his life, but how could he make it work?
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