Fierce at Heart (The Kincaids of Pine Harbour)

by Zoe York

  “It’s very…touchable.” He traced his fingertips along the edge of the fabric, skating across her skin and raising goosebumps as he went.

  She covered his hand with hers and drew his touch under the fabric, gasping when he grazed her nipple.

  “We’re going to be late.” He gave her a rakish grin that promised he didn’t care.

  Neither did she. “Is it a fixed arrival time?”

  “Nope.” He dropped his head, his mouth following the trail of his fingers. He tugged the dress down and revealed the barely there demi-cups of her bra. His lips closed over one tight peak, through the fabric, and she made an unholy sound.

  He grabbed her hips and bunched her dress up in tight, jerky motions. But as soon as his hands were on her bare skin, his gestures smoothed. Just as rushed, but gentler. Adam was always endlessly gentle with her. Even when need overtook them.

  He lifted her up enough to perch her bottom on the edge of the bed. Then they worked together to undo his fly. He was hard for her already. She was ready, too, and as she clung to his shoulders, he thrust inside her. He took her quickly, each pump of his hips driving her whole body against the edge of the bed. With each surge, she breathed in more of his cologne, a scent she hadn’t smelled in months. This was the man she had first connected with, a man Adam had hidden from her for months, because she hadn’t been ready for this side of him. But she was ready now.

  “Harder,” she whispered. “Faster.” Her words came out in bursts now, desperate, eager pleading. No, not pleas. Commands, because there was nothing shy about how much she wanted her husband. All night she would bear the flush of his effect on her. It would feel obscene, even after she tidied up.

  She would be his secret, wanton woman beneath a formal gown and behind a rack of medals.

  Pleasure built in her body, a tight stack that marched upwards inside her and then started to wobble, and just before it toppled, exploded instead. Throwing her head back, she groaned through her orgasm, then Adam pulled out with his own cry.

  As the after effects made her twitch, his mouth found hers for a soft, seemingly endless kiss. Thank you, it said. No, thank you, her lips pressed back.

  When she finally pulled away, she knew she’d have to go and fix her makeup all over again, and she didn’t care at all.

  “I should…” she trailed off. She didn’t care about moving.

  “Yeah. I need to find a different handkerchief,” he said wryly.

  She followed his gaze to the cloth in his hand.

  “I didn’t want you to be all messy for the evening.” And then he blushed.

  That took her breath away. The sweetness had never been an act for Adam. They could be dirty and lovely to each other at the same time. She leaned back on her hands, relinquishing her grip on his shoulders, and he stepped back. His gaze dropped to her splayed legs, and she had to force herself not to slam her thighs shut.

  Not for him, but for herself—she wanted him to look his fill, wanted to soak up the warmth of his hungry gaze. She liked the way he looked at her. She rarely compared him to her past relationship now, but this moment was starkly different from how she’d been seen in the past, and the comparison didn’t have the same sharp edge this time.

  It was softer, like a new memory was being formed that would dull her experiences.

  This is what she would remember when she thought about trying to be beautiful for her partner. With Adam, there was no need to try. She simply was beautiful in his eyes, always, and that was sexy.

  ***

  The gala was held in a converted barn, which sounded more rustic than elegant, but as soon as Isla saw the sparkle of silver and gold in the lobby, she knew the invitation hadn’t lied about the event’s formal note.

  They found Owen and Kerry at a table, but Adam didn’t want to sit. After greeting them, he wrapped his arms around Isla from behind and swayed her back and forth. “May I have your first dance?”

  “You can have all of them.” She spotted Catie on the other side of the room, wrapped in red satin, and waved.

  Adam tugged her onto the dance floor.

  She relaxed into his arms. He was good at this kind of dancing, too. “Last time we were on a dance floor, we got carried away.”

  He spun them around, then pulled her close enough for him to whisper in her ear. “We already got carried away tonight. Burned off that filthy energy so we could remain respectable in mixed company here.”

  She buried her face in his neck, her body shaking with silent laughter, but that just gave her a nice dose of his cologne all over again. If being respectable meant not inhaling her husband’s scent, well, she didn’t want any part of that.

  He pressed his hand into the small of her back, then spun them again. Oh, if he wanted to really dance, she was game for that, too.

  They stayed on the dance floor for three songs, then made their way back to the table, where Josh had just arrived—and a bottle of champagne had, too.

  Adam snagged his brother to help him grab food from the buffet and Isla waved Catie over to join her for a glass of wine.

  “You look stunning,” she said as her friend sat down beside her.

  “Thank you. You do, too. I didn’t know you owned anything quite this luxurious.”

  “It’s an exception in my wardrobe. If we come to this next year, I’ll be wearing the same thing. Unless there are other formal events I should know about?”

  “The Pine Harbour social calendar trends more heavily towards blue jeans and plaid shirts than black velvet dresses, but maybe that should change.” Catie looked like she was going to say more, but Will slid into the chair next to her. She gave him a quick smile, but seemed flustered by his arrival. “Hey.”

  He reached for the bottle of champagne. “What are we talking about?”

  “Fashion,” Isla offered.

  “Nothing,” Catie said at the same time. Then she stood up. “Oh look, the buffet.”

  Will watched her leave, then glowered in Isla’s direction. “Was that about the bachelor auction?”

  “I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, so nope.” She tipped back her glass, then extended it. “Top me up and tell me what the bachelor auction is.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  Isla sincerely doubted that, but she wasn’t going to pry if the school principal didn’t feel like elaborating. They were both saved from further conversation when Adam and Josh returned with plates laden down with appetizers.

  Adam slung his arm around her, his fingertips playing against the skin revealed by the swoop of her neckline. He wasn’t looking at her, but she could feel his attention anyway. Warmth bloomed everywhere he touched, just as it had before they left home, when she’d guided his hand further along that same path.

  After eating, they hit the dance floor again. There was a pause in the dancing an hour before midnight for a raffle, and they had another plate of food from the buffet at that point. Then it was dancing again until the countdown to the new year.

  As Auld Lang Syne played out over the speakers, Adam swept Isla back into a dip and kissed her until she was breathless.

  “Happy New Year’s.” His eyes twinkled as he righted her. After weeks of big feelings, this felt like she had old Adam back again, and she loved it.

  She kissed him back, then led him to the table where Kerry was pouring one last round of champagne.

  “Any New Year’s resolutions?” Owen asked after they all leaned in for a toast.

  Kerry elbowed Josh. “To get this one to join the co-ed soccer team.”

  Will grinned. “I’m going to start two new clubs at school.”

  “All work and no play makes Will a dull boy,” Josh griped.

  Adam took Isla’s hand in his. “Take my wife on a belated honeymoon.”

  She did a double-take. “What?”

  He winked at her. “We’ll talk later.”

  Kerry made a swooning sound. “That’s right, you didn’t get a honeymoon.”


  Adam’s hand swept up and down Isla’s arm, his touch distracting. But she didn’t miss what he said next. “When I fell for her last summer, it was perfect timing at the absolute worst time. We didn’t even have a chance to talk about it, and then we were both diving into new jobs. It’s time to rectify that.”

  When I fell for her last summer.

  Something about the way he said it tugged at her inside.

  “Honeymoons are overrated.” Josh shrugged when everyone at the table turned as one to give him A Look. “What? They are.”

  “And how would you know?” Owen asked, laughing.

  Josh tipped his flute back and drained the last of his champagne. Then he set it down on the table and sighed. “Because I spent mine in Bali. And the wedding was annulled when we landed back in the States. All right?”

  The din of the party surrounding them faded out to white noise. Isla felt her mouth drop open, then, as if moving in slow motion, she dragged her gaze to Adam—shock—and Will—horror—then Owen—confusion.

  “You what?” Kerry asked faintly.

  “Excuse me?” That was Owen.

  The party sounds roared back to life around them. Josh shrugged. “Not my finest hour. Didn’t feel like sharing it before.”

  “Who was she?”

  “Someone on the racing circuit. A mistake.” He waved it off. “This was not the best moment to dump that news, I guess.”

  “Not sure there is ever a good time,” Will muttered. “Was there a wedding we weren’t invited to?”

  “No.”

  “That’s it? No? That’s all we get?”

  “Maybe I’ll share a little more of the story next year.” He shrugged.

  Beside Isla, Adam took a deep breath. “Well, on that note, I think I’m going to take my wife home. It’s been a long day. This was fun. Weird, but fun.”

  Isla mouthed thank you to Owen, who was laughing at his brothers, and he nodded in acknowledgement. It had been fun, a lot of fun, and only a little weird. Weird in a good, close family kind of way.

  After they got their coats from the coat check, Isla thought about what Adam had said. “Hey,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers. “So…last summer?”

  He slid her a glance. “Oh. That.”

  “Yeah. That.”

  “Let’s go home,” he murmured. “We can talk all about it there.”

  What was there to talk about, besides maybe everything?

  They drove home in silence. The only thing that kept Isla from completely falling apart was the tight grip Adam had on her hand—not letting go even for a second after he put his truck into drive—and the echo of his words.

  When I fell for her last summer.

  She believed him.

  She loved him.

  And yet it felt like they still had a mountain in front of them to climb, to get over, because she hadn’t known. There was still so much they didn’t know about each other.

  When they got home, Adam let go of her hand to put the truck in park and turn the key. Then he exhaled roughly, twisted in his seat, and reached for her as she was launching herself across the console.

  He shuddered and kissed his way past her lips. Urgent, demanding. She wanted to crawl into his lap, get inside his coat with him, and never let go.

  But the sharp wintery cold outside was starting to seep into the truck cab already, and Adam’s breath puffed in clouds between them as he pulled back.

  “I need—”

  “Let’s go in—”

  They both stopped, and then he gestured for her to go ahead.

  “Let’s go inside,” she repeated.

  He squeezed her hands, his gaze hot and mesmerizing even in shadow. “Stay right where you are.”

  He was around the truck in a flash to help her down, then kept his body shielding her from the wind and snow all the way to the front door.

  Inside, he guided her into the living room without turning on any lights.

  He kissed her in the dark for a long, urgent moment. Then he shuddered and stepped back. “I want to show you something,” he whispered. “Stay here. Stay here and be beautiful, just exactly as you are. I’ll be right back.”

  She shook as he left the room, as he climbed the stairs. He returned quickly, carrying something.

  “I had a plan for these,” he said as he set down the large box that had arrived earlier in the week. “I was going to…well, it doesn’t matter. Now is perfect.”

  He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her again, then asked her to close her eyes.

  She pressed her eyelids shut.

  Adam had spent the last week planning an absolutely perfect “Christmas morning” to act out on New Year’s Day, and now none of that mattered.

  He already had the hooks in place, so it didn’t take long to open the box and hang the frames. His hands shook the whole time, desperate to get back to Isla, eager to show her what he had done. What he had finally figured out.

  It had taken him too long to realize what Owen had tried to tell him—what had already happened long ago.

  He couldn’t be vulnerable with Isla until he was vulnerable with himself.

  Taking a deep breath, he returned to the living room and took her hand. He guided her to stand, and she laughed lightly, softly. Perfectly. “Where are we going?”

  “You need to turn on the lights.” He led her to the switch for the Christmas lights, then turned her so she couldn’t see the hallway. “Open your eyes.”

  She blinked her eyes open, then gave him a wide, beaming grin. “Now what?”

  He gestured to the switch. “Turn the lights on, and turn around.”

  She kissed him first, then did as he instructed.

  The gasp she let out when she saw the first framed photograph was the best sound he’d ever heard. It trumped any orgasm he’d ever wrung from her body, and every sweet laugh. It was a sound that said she knew how he felt.

  He had finally shown her what he needed to say out loud—and he would, as soon as he dealt with the lump in his throat.

  She moved closer to the frame and lifted her hand, ghosting her fingers over the image. It was a still from their wedding day video which Adam had never shown anyone, but looked at many times himself. He’d had it professionally printed in black and white on archival paper, framed for posterity. For the rest of their lives, they’d be able to look at this photo and remember the moment they exchanged vows in the most earnest, special way.

  He hadn’t known yet that he loved her, but in hindsight, there was no doubt in his heart that he did at that moment.

  In the photo, her head was cocked to the side, listening to him give his vows, and the way her gaze was locked on his face gave him life. More than once in their marriage she had made him feel like a king. Now it was his turn, quite overdue, to ensure she knew she was his queen.

  “There’s more,” he whispered, his voice gravelly.

  Three more pictures, all from his phone. One of just Isla, working in the kitchen at the bakery. He loved the way the light hit the side of her face. Another photo was of her wedding bouquet on the night she moved in. And the final picture was from the bathroom renovation, a selfie he’d taken of himself in his tool belt, but in the shot was the mirror he’d just installed, and captured on that reflection was Isla laughing at him.

  Her beautiful, loving laugh. With him, never at him.

  “For a long time, I thought I couldn’t love, because I didn’t want to love. And I never had to look closely at that until I fell in love with you.” It was better that she was still looking at the last photo, that he could say this while holding her, but not looking at her. “And I think I realized, terrifyingly, deep down, that if I love you, I can lose you. And I never want to lose you.”

  “You won’t lose me.” Her voice cracked as she spun in his arms and hugged him as tight as humanly possible. She squeezed him with all her might. “Where did these photos come from?”

  “I have a collection on my phone. Wh
en I’m at the station and I have some down time, I look through them. I never get enough of looking at you. You’re my queen.” He tipped her chin up. He’d got through the hardest part. It didn’t matter if his voice broke now, if he teared up and couldn’t say much else. “You’re my wife. And I love you.”

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted into a silent O.

  “I’m your husband,” he said huskily.

  She nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “You’re my husband.”

  That felt majestic. “Say it again.”

  She grinned. “My husband.”

  Damn straight. “You’re my wife, Isla. Forever. And I love you with all of my heart. I want to race home to you after every shift, and hold you every night that I’m able. Wake up to you every morning. I need you in my arms, and when you aren’t there, something’s just wrong.”

  “I know.” She dazzled him with another smile. “I feel the same way, because I love you, too.”

  He had spent eighteen years convincing himself he didn’t need to hear those words.

  Had thought the biggest hurdle would be saying them.

  But hearing them?

  From Isla?

  A shudder rolled through him, an unexpected earthquake of feeling, and his grip on Isla tightened, plastering her to his chest.

  “Let’s go to bed,” she murmured into his neck. “I want you again.”

  The downstairs bed was closer, so he picked her up and swept her in that direction. At her closet, they undressed together, him helping her out of the velvet dress, her working at his shirt buttons.

  The bedding was still rumpled from the fast fuck they’d had earlier on the edge of the bed. Now, Isla swept it back and tugged Adam under the duvet.

  He sprawled out on his back and she climbed on top of him, straddling his already hard cock with the sweet spread of her thighs, but made no rush to rub against him or take him into her body. Instead, she leaned forward, tugging the blanket up over her back, cocooning them in together.

  Naked, entwined, just the two of them.

  She gave him the happiest smile. “The photographs are the best present ever. I need you to know that I got you socks.”