by Jenna Jacob
With a couple hours of daylight left, he decided to do something constructive, like reset the loose fence post near the road. Once he ambled into the barn, he gathered up the tools he needed, then plodded across the yard. As he forced the shovel into the rich, black soil, his muscles gathered and bunched, stretching with the physical labor he enjoyed. It didn’t take long for the mid-July heat to send sweat sliding down his back and dripping off his face. Peeling his wife-beater T-shirt over his head, Sky wiped his face before shoving the fabric inside the back pocket of his jeans to drive the spade into the sod once more.
~*~
Kaitlin felt a strange mixture of excitement and dread the closer she drew to Connor. She was eager to see Gran and equally ready to step into the massive claw-footed tub in the main bathroom, mix her favorite bath salts into the hot, steamy water, and melt away her excess stress. A large glass of Sauvignon Blanc perched on the side of the tub wouldn’t suck, either.
She opened the windows, breathing in the sweet scent of farmland and the occasional pungent aroma of livestock. The heady and familiar fragrances sent memories of carefree, youthful summers rolling through her, until thoughts of Sky Whitefeather invaded her brain. She scowled and wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel in a death grip.
“Dammit,” she hissed out loud. “I forgot to ask Gran if he was still in Iraq.”
If she hadn’t been so distracted by pretending to be fine, Kaitlin might have remembered. She could only hope he was still halfway around the world so she wouldn’t have to see him or dredge up more guilt from the past. She didn’t have the strength or desire to deal with Sky. Thanks to Doug, her coping mechanisms had been shot to hell. She had enough on her to-do list without needing to add fight with Sky.
Still, she should have asked. Gran wouldn’t have offered up any information about him. The first time she’d mentioned that Sky had joined the Marines, Kaitlin had nearly taken the woman’s head off. Fear that Sky would come home in a body bag and regret that she hadn’t even told him good-bye were the reasons behind Kaitlin lashing out. If she’d been braver, she would have left him with dignity and a ton of tears instead of running off like a coward…in a river of tears. She’d waffled for days about going to Chicago, fearing the size of the city and its crime rate. Mourning leaving Sky and Gran behind, Kaitlin had been terrified if she saw him one more time, she’d lose her nerve and stay in Connor. She’d hidden her fear of the unknown from everyone so they’d never see how truly petrified she was.
Kaitlin knew she never should have kicked Sky to the curb. She never should have left Connor. She’d been naive and stupid to think the grass was greener someplace else. The image of Sky consumed her. His dark, sensual eyes, always filled with love, and the feel of his full, soft lips against her mouth, trailing down her body still ignited fire inside her.
Even before she’d reached Chicago, Kaitlin had known she’d made a horrible mistake. Feeling as if a part of her soul had been ripped from inside was proof enough. For months she’d cried herself to sleep at night, but knowing she’d been the one to stab the knife through her own heart had made the loss a million times worse. She’d spent so many years obsessing over leaving Connor she hadn’t seen the beauty of the small town. The positives she’d taken for granted, like the sense of community…the genuine concern shared between neighbors. In Chicago, she’d frequented the same dry cleaners, hair salon, and corner coffee house for years. Yet the people had treated her as if she were a stranger. That wouldn’t happen in Connor. So what if everyone knew your business…and gossip moved faster than the World Wide Web. Kaitlin wasn’t the only one who had skeletons. Everyone did, but they weren’t hiding in closets—they blew in the breeze on the front lawn.
Kaitlin probably wouldn’t make it all the way to Gran’s house before everyone in Connor knew she was back. She simply had to cross her fingers and pray that no one found out why.
With a shuddering cringe, the reason Kaitlin was now driving through the countryside came flashing through her mind in living color. She’d run down the hall toward Doug’s office, anxious to share the news that Andrews Industries had named Grant-McCarthy their agency of record. But when she’d burst through his door, her enthusiasm had quickly been replaced with confusion, humiliation, and a surge of white-hot anger.
Madeline Christopher—an aging cosmetics diva and the agency’s number one client—had been sprawled out with Doug on his couch, naked. A tangle of gyrating limbs and hungry mouths had fed on each other’s bare flesh; they’d been grunting and thrusting as they fucked like animals.
When Madeline had looked up to discover they were no longer alone, a shrill, ear-piercing scream had torn from her throat. Doug had turned and his eyes had grown wide. With a loud curse, he’d tried to extract himself from Madeline, who’d screamed again before shoving Doug to the floor. While he’d stood, trying unsuccessfully to hide his failing erection behind his hands, Madeline had rolled off the couch. Her pale, saggy butt had swayed and jiggled as she’d crawled on the carpet, gathering her scattered clothing while screaming like a wounded peacock.
An array of dark and deadly emotions had poured through Kaitlin, but somehow she’d managed to keep her composure. Gathering up her dignity, she’d pinned Doug with a condescending sneer.
“If you’re going to prostitute yourself by fucking women old enough to be your mother, at least have the forethought to lock your door.” Though Kaitlin’s voice had carried a calm and even tone, inside she’d been spinning out of control.
Without another word, she’d backed out of the room, past the employees now gathered at the portal peering into Doug’s office. They’d stood with their mouths agape and eyes wide in shock as Kaitlin had raced to her office. Closing the door, she’d locked it before dragging in several deep breaths. She’d counted to ten…twice before she’d picked up her phone. In proficient Kaitlin Grant style, she’d called the bank and wired every penny from her personal account and half of the company funds to Gran’s bank back in Connor.
While Doug had pounded on her door demanding she let him in, Kaitlin had loaded her laptop and all the files she could cram into her briefcase. Placing one more call to security, she’d requested an escort to her car—not for her own protection but for Doug’s. The fury bubbling inside her had been so caustic and raw she hadn’t trusted herself to leave the building peacefully. The need to inflict pain on the rat bastard, starting with castration, had sung in her veins.
Lost in thought, she nearly missed the turn to County Road Fourteen. But Joe Brock’s regal old farmhouse snapped her away from the horrific memories filling her brain. All thoughts of Doug’s betrayal vanished as Kaitlin drank in the sight of the lush, green corn in Joe’s field. Much like the man who’d planted them, the stalks stood tall and proud.
Kaitlin’s mind sputtered. Joe was as old as Gran now. Surely he didn’t still work his farm, did he? Maybe. No, he probably did. Joe wasn’t the type of man to find an ounce of pleasure in some retirement community, surrounded by palm trees. The old farmer found contentment in his fields.
Taking a deep breath, she slowed to the posted speed limit as she crept along Main Street. Her flashy sports car with Illinois license plates stuck out like a neon sign among the dusty sedans and pickup trucks parked along the curbs. Kaitlin quickly closed her windows to hide behind the tinted glass. She passed several familiar faces as people stopped, squinted, and stared, trying to catch a glimpse of the driver in the sleek, silver Jag. Once they figured out it was her, news of Kaitlin’s return would spread like a spark in a barn of dry hay.
Passing the memorable shops and landmarks, she saw that nothing much had changed—but then she hadn’t expected it to. Turning off the main drag, she opened her window again, letting the wind caress her face. When she turned onto the gravel road and saw the green hedgerow that marked Gran’s drive, Kaitlin couldn’t take her eyes off the house as it came into view. Pulling alongside the road she stopped and stared at the old white Victorian-style
farmhouse with the wraparound porch. Her childhood home held all the charm and beauty of the plantations in Gone With the Wind—a kind of personality her mansion in Chicago sorely lacked. It was framed in huge white pine, northern oak, hickory, and red maple trees soaring high above the roofline. Kaitlin could almost smell the sweet perfume of the honeysuckle, lilac, and colorful roses that surrounded Gran’s porch.
She stared at the white gazebo, shaded by a towering weeping willow on the northwest corner of the house, remembering all the talks she and Gran had shared there. She was filled with relief at being home, and yet a whole host of shitty emotions, none of which had a thing to do with Doug, weighed her heart. Pure selfish desire to be the next advertising prodigy had robbed her of precious time she should have spent with Gran. Kaitlin’s stupid, headstrong determination had only manifested into a giant noose around her neck. How in the world had she screwed her life and priorities up so damn badly? Better yet, how had she gotten so flipping lost? Could she ever find her way back? Where did she even start?
The tide of tears she’d held back since leaving Chicago burst free. Dropping her forehead to her hands, resting on the steering wheel, Kaitlin closed her eyes and came undone. Mournful wails burned the back of her throat, but she welcomed the rush of pain and tears, hoping it might ease the darkness eating at her soul.
CHAPTER THREE
Home is where the heart is.
-Joseph C. Neal
The sound of churning gravel and the purr of a car engine drew Sky’s attention to the road. A silver Jag slowed to a stop in front of Gran’s. His heart clutched in his chest. The air stilled in his lungs.
Katie.
He didn’t need the shimmer of her glossy, auburn hair reflecting in the setting sun to recognize her. The blistering pull of every cell in his body and the rush of conflicted emotions rolling through him were proof enough. Anger, desire, sadness, and rejection brought with them a sting that burned the backs of his eyes. Forcing down the lump of emotion clogging his throat, Sky tried to tamp down the familiar vibration humming through his body. A part of him wanted to whoop with joy before yanking Katie into his arms to kiss her senseless, while another part of him wanted to forget she even existed…wipe away the ball-churning memories that flooded his brain and focus on the hurt and anger he’d felt when Gran had broken the news that Katie had left. Yet all he could think about was touching her, kissing her, holding her in his arms before he dragged her beneath him again.
Skimming a cursory glance over the ridiculously expensive sports car, Sky felt his shoulders sag. Katie had achieved her dreams, all right—it was staring him right in the face, sending a feeling of inadequacy seeping deep in his bones. He hadn’t had a damn thing to offer her at eighteen. He sure as hell didn’t now. Sky couldn’t compete with the riches she’d apparently become accustomed to. It didn’t take a genius to see he could only rate as a long-lost lover. Reality stung like a slap to the face.
Katie had ripped his heart out and stomped it to shit—a fact he’d do well to remember. But it didn’t erase the desire to love her again or the growing need inside his jeans. He was disgusted by his traitorous libido. Katie’s return only served to make him pick at the scabs of the past and douse them in salt water. Sky clenched his jaw.
“Looks like you got everything you wanted, Katie,” he mumbled with disdain. “I’m sure you’re happy now.”
No sooner had the words rolled off his tongue than the sounds of gut-wrenching sobs filled his ears.
What the hell?
Tossing down the shovel, Sky wiped the wife-beater over his face, mopping up his sweat before storming toward the Jag. Katie’s sobs grew louder and more pitiful. Like fine crystal, the flimsy barrier he’d erected around his heart began to crack, splinter, and finally shatter. Standing next to the open window, Sky watched tears drip from beneath her shroud of silky red hair. The waning sun reflected in each drop, casting them in a shimmer of gold as they spilled onto Katie’s lap.
His guts and heart clenched in tandem. Sky had only seen Katie cry once, the first time they’d made love, but those had been tears of joy. There wasn’t an ounce of happiness in the guttural sobs ringing in his ears. What the hell had happened to her? This wasn’t the strong, resilient woman he’d once loved. Seeing Katie in the throes of such brutal sorrow gutted him.
In an instant, his heart caught fire with the need to protect, burning away the poisonous animosity he’d felt moments ago. Flames of love reignited—the powerful kind they’d once shared—and Sky longed to drag her into his arms so he could comfort her and slay the demons that caused her this pain.
The need to fix things for her grew visceral, and without thinking, Sky gripped the handle and threw back the car door. Startled, Katie jumped, snapping her head toward him. Her glossy mane whipped through the air like a fan of fiery silk. Her green eyes, now rimmed red, shimmered like the broad leaves of the fields in the summer sun. Even with the splotches of red that stained her nose and cheeks, Katie still took his breath away. One look and Sky knew she’d never left him. Never left his heart. Never left his soul.
Time seemed suspended as they stared at one another. He couldn’t miss the flicker of regret, pain, and the hint of passion skittering over her haunted emerald eyes. Sky had dreamed that one day they’d meet again. But never in his wildest dreams did he imagine she’d be so obviously broken and defeated. There was no sign of the tiny tigress…the one who fearlessly wanted to take on the world. Maybe she had…. Maybe she’d challenged the universe and it had crushed her. Whatever the reason for her tears, it didn’t matter. All he wanted to do was find the strong-willed and defiant woman who was lost somewhere inside her. Find her and bring her back to the land of the living while healing her damaged soul.
A look of embarrassment darted across her face. Katie quickly swiped at her tears and tensed. Helplessly, Sky watched her bank every emotion behind a smooth and icy mask. A brittle smile thinned her lips, and the sparkle vanished from her eyes. He knew without question, Katie had donned this same arctic expression a million times. Like a well-rehearsed actress, she pulled the shades and barred the door, blocking him out. Her retreat only served to fuel Sky’s need to crash through her defenses and shield her even more. Somehow, someway, he would destroy her impenetrable fortress and find the woman he remembered.
Katie was still as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so. The pretty eighteen-year-old had grown into an even more irresistible woman—elegant and refined. Her big emerald eyes still captured all his attention while the dusting of freckles hadn’t faded from her slender nose and finely defined cheekbones on her delicate oval face. Her lips were lush and inviting; though poised in the unfamiliar plastic smile that made him want to kiss them back to life, they still curved like a cupid’s bow. Trailing his gaze down her slender neck, framed by a mass of thick auburn hair that Sky itched to sink his fingers deep into, he sucked in a ragged breath.
Dropping his gaze to her breasts, Sky could almost feel their luscious weight warming his palms…see her gorgeous champagne-colored nipples draw up hard and tight as he stroked them with his thumb, could almost taste them in his mouth again. The growing length in his jeans chafed. He issued an inward curse, knowing he’d be wearing the imprint of his zipper for a week.
He knew Katie hadn’t come back to him, hadn’t come home to apologize, though his body responded as if she had. Sky wanted to turn and walk away, but his feet were cemented to the road. A war ten times worse than that he’d encountered in Iraq raged inside him. After several long seconds, Sky managed to break through the fog enveloping his brain.
“Hello, Katie.” His tone was rough and low with a sensual allure he hadn’t meant to reveal.
In her eyes, the storm clouds parted. A real smile tugged the corners of her mouth, and Sky felt himself tumbling down a rabbit hole. He was fucked.
“S…Sky,” she stammered in a voice so soft and sultry his cock jumped at the sound. Katie trailed a gaze up and down his body as a pr
etty crimson hue slid up her chest and onto her cheeks. “What on earth happened to you? You’re…you’re huge.”
The breathless tone of approval and the fire of desire flickering in her eyes caught him off guard, but in a good way. If Sky was reading Katie right—and he was, so said the skills he’d honed in Iraq—she wanted him…as badly as he wanted her.
A smile kicked up over his mouth as he rolled his shoulders with a careless shrug. “I grew up.”
Katie nervously nibbled her bottom lip, and Sky fought the urge to capture the plump flesh between his teeth, bite on it like a ripe grape and savor her whimpers and moans. Demand crawled up his back as he leaned inside her car. Trying like hell to ignore the heat rippling off her body, he turned off the engine. The dizzying scent of her skin filled his senses: lilac and sunshine and something more. Was it a hint of salvation—his own?
Shoving aside his hopeful thoughts, Sky flipped the latch on Katie’s seat belt before offering his hand. He couldn’t stop the childish grin spreading over his lips. A taunting smirk that screamed a challenge: Take it…I dare you.
Katie eyed him suspiciously as she softly sniffed. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to give you a hug,” he replied casually. And find out why you’re crying, though I shouldn’t even give a shit. Dammit. “You never bothered to tell me good-bye. I figure after thirteen years, the very least I could get is a hug.”
His barb sent a flash of guilt darting across her face. Though it wasn’t the apology he’d hoped for, it was a start. Refusing his hand, Katie stepped from the Jag. He quickly took in the guarded expression etched across her features. When she turned to close the door, she rewarded him with a perfect view of her heart-shaped ass, wrapped snug and tight beneath her jeans. He skimmed his gaze up and down her slender legs, remembering how fantastic they felt wrapped around his waist as he drove in and out of her clutching core.
