by Cara North
Halfway back to the ranch, Romper began to haul ass. He wasn't sure what got the old man so excited, but he never knew the horse to drive so hard so fast. “Whoa boy, we have a ways to go now."
Another sound broke the night. A distant neigh from another horse. Romper ignored his pull on the reign to slow down and instead sped up. He started sending out a call of his own. Heath didn't know what was going on.
Then, he saw her. Clear as the moon, the sleek white coat like a light against the darkness. On her back was darkness like a thundercloud. The White Queen neared, and Rafe was riding her.
His heart almost burst into pieces. His greatest fears all surfaced. Tears tried to stain his eyes. Was he too late? For his brother to come all this way things must have been more serious than he thought. How much time was wasted?
Rafe and The White Queen drew near. Romper slowed and neighed his recognition. Rafe abruptly halted in front of them.
"You stupid idiot!” Rafe shouted. “What the hell are you doing, Heath?"
"Oh God, is she all right? Is the baby okay?” His heart hurt. He knew the difference now. When he realized she was gone, it hurt, but like a sucker punch, not like this.
"Hell no, she's not all right. She's at home worried sick about your dumb ass, and you're out here playing Cowboy when your wife's at home grieving her mother!” Rafe came closer and grabbed the collar of Heath's jacket. “You're my big brother. A man I trusted. Loved and respected all my life. Get your head out of your ass and start acting like that guy again, will ya?"
He looked at Rafe dumbfounded. Rafe let go of his collar, the threat over, if it was a threat at all.
"We all know you're scared shitless, man. You didn't give her a second chance like you promised. Now, you fucked up your first real chance with her. Hope she is forgiving, brother. If my momma died and my spouse bailed, I don't know what I would feel about that.” Rafe turned the White Queen around. “Come on Beautiful, our job here is done."
The Queen agreed with a neigh and took off like a bolt of white lightning disappearing from their sight though Romper ran hard trying to catch her.
As the sky began to lighten, Heath rode into the stables. Jack was there waiting. Arms crossed, hair tousled, he looked like he might have been drug out of bed. “Jack."
"If I knew where you were, I would have told you. I'm pissed at you, and now I'm pissed at Rafe. Get off the horse and go see your wife. We can talk later.” Jack grabbed the reigns, and Heath looked at his youngest brother. He didn't like being talked to like this, but what could he say. For the first time in history, he was the one fucked up in the family. Had he been so hard on them when they made mistakes? He smiled, knowing damn good and well he had.
"All right, little brother.” Heath dismounted and headed home.
The walk to his house stretched his muscles, but it did not help his courage. He let her down. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he had done to her what she did to him all those years ago. He did the exact thing he asked her to never do again. He wanted her trust, but he didn't return the favor. Now, he was dragging home at the break of dawn tail tucked between his legs like a scolded dog.
He entered the garage, looked at the pretty pink Harley and winced. She knew by now he caused the damage to the bike. Groaning out loud, he pushed himself toward the door. His feet became heavy; his heart pounded harder. No one would consider him a coward, yet he was afraid.
"Act like you got a pair for crying out loud,” he scolded himself then took a deep breath. He opened the door to the kitchen.
He let his breath out in a whoosh of relief. She wasn't sitting there with a frying pan ready to belt him across the head with it. Feeling a little more relaxed, he entered the house and slowly made his way through to their bedroom.
There she was. Sleeping like an angel, so peaceful and serene looking. His heart thumped a solid beat he felt throughout his body, into his very soul. Relief washed over him in a gentle wave. She was home.
Trying to sneak into the room, he tiptoed toward the bed. One wood floorboard barely creaked, and her eyes opened. Frozen in place by her stare, he stopped dead in his tracks.
"Heath?” She pushed up to her elbow, scrubbed her eyes with her other hand, then yawned.
"I. Well. I.” He gulped the brick lodged in his throat trying to swallow it down.
"Come to bed.” She patted the space beside her.
"I. I. Uh.” Words escaped him. So much flashed through his mind at once, apologies, begging for forgiveness, pleading for a second chance.
"Heath,” her voice was gentle, making him even more concerned. Chance was better known for her hissy fits than reason. “I can be mad tomorrow. I need you tonight."
Another sucker punch landed in his gut. She wasn't going to let him off easy. She wasn't going to throw a tantrum and possibly a lamp at his head. She was instead going to make him face his demons and deal with it.
He stepped closer, removing clothes along the way. She pulled the sheet back, and he slid silently into the bed next to her.
Stiff and unsure what to expect, he lay there straight as a board.
"Heath?” She looked at him puzzled then pulled his arm up to crawl underneath it. “God, you smell good."
"I need to shave,” his voice was so soft and unfamiliar he wondered who was talking to her.
"But you smell good. You smell like the lake we went swimming in, the field after it's been freshly plowed, earthy and warm. Underneath all that is a spice, a heat that is uniquely yours. You smell like home."
Her head shifted on his chest, and her arms squeezed him tightly. Tears choked him. He was drowning in an unshed pool. “I'm sorry."
"I know. We'll talk later, okay? Just hold me."
His arms wrapped around her, and he tried to relax. Moments of silence passed between them. “I love you,” he whispered.
She didn't respond. His gut clenched. Then, she inhaled, and a soft snore broke the silence. The smile tugged at his lips. He might have hell to pay in the morning, but he had the woman he loved in his arms tonight.
* * * *
Chance yawned, stretched the best she could while being held captive in Heath's grip. Tilting her head to get a better view, she looked up at his rugged face. She couldn't remember a time when he wore a full beard. It made him look like a mountain man. She giggled then realized she was supposed to be mad at him.
Sighing, she resigned to the simple fact, she wasn't mad. Hurt and worried, yes, mad, no. How could she be mad at him for doing what she herself did? Having him near warmed her through and through. He would expect her to be angry this morning. She thought of a better way to wake him up.
Her lips kissed his chest once, twice. Her mouth opened, and she gently nipped his skin. His hand stirred on her back. More determined she inched her hand down his abdomen and through his soft curls. When she griped his penis, it started to grow. Heath began to make more noises; his heartbeat picked up. She could hear it as her head lay on his chest again.
His erection grew magnificently against her palm. The feel of the warm soft skin over such a hard unyielding core fascinated her. She slipped her fingers over the broad head and smiled. Heath growled a sleepy groan of approval.
"Heath,” she whispered then began kissing his neck.
"Mmm?” was his stunted reply.
"Wake up, Cowboy. I want a ride.” Feeling more turned on and less filled with grief, she focused on the pleasure in the moment. Nothing was penetrating through this time with him. No thoughts of her mother, of his leaving, or the guilt she was feeling for both situations. Instead, she felt warm and wet and ready. Ready to feel good again. With more volume, she nipped his neck and said, “Heath."
"Yes, Baby.” He awoke, blinking rapidly.
"Wake up and make love to me."
Before he could answer, she kissed him. The whiskers from his beard and mustache tickled her lips and scratched her chin. She licked his lower lip, pulled it between her teeth for a gentle nip, then released it. His hands snaked
up her back and pulled her on top of his body holding her close and still.
"Hang on.” He gasped for breath then rolled them over, so he was on top. “Better?"
"No.” She grabbed his back and rolled them to the first position. “This is better."
He looked at her for a moment then nodded. “Okay, but don't you want to talk first?"
"No. I want to do this first.” She slid down his body coming to rest between his legs. Both hands wrapped around his fully erect cock, and he groaned.
"Sweetheart, I should be ... Oh sweet ... Whooo."
Heath surrendered as she sucked the head into her mouth. She licked and sucked and used both hands to work his shaft over and over until he was begging for mercy. Her pussy ached. It throbbed with need and wept for relief.
"Please, Chance. I just want to be inside you. I need to be inside you.” He pulled at her shoulders again.
She went but slowly. Stopping to lick his navel and kiss his abs, his left nipple, then she sucked his right. Heath continued to flex his grip on her arms. She knew he wanted to rush her. She was feeling the same urgency, but watching him get so worked up was a turn on. He grabbed her face, his thumbs near her lips. Feeling wanton, she turned her head and pulled his thumb into her mouth.
"Ah, damn,” he growled.
His hand slipped between her thighs, and his eyes widened when he realized she was as wet and ready as he was. Pressing back against his shaft, she let him know what she wanted without telling him, without letting go of his thumb.
As the head of his dick penetrated her pussy, she let go of his thumb and moaned in sure bliss. “God, Heath."
"You feel so good."
Seating herself completely, she looked down at the man she loved. His eyes told her things his lips probably never would. They held love and relief in them. They showed fear and worry. He looked vulnerable. “I love you."
"I love you, too.” He sat up to meet her. She wrapped her legs around him, and he held her for what seemed an eternity.
"Heath?” She smiled against his neck.
He grunted a reply.
"Do you wanna finish this up here?"
He let a slight laugh escape. “I wanna to stay like this forever.” He nipped her neck.
"Me, too."
His hands moved to the bottom of her butt cheeks, and he slowly lifted her then rocked his hips forward as he pulled her back down. “Oh yes. Me, too."
Heath pulled and lifted until they were both breathing like they ran a marathon. Chance used her feet to help steady the rhythm and assist with balance. Her eyes locked with his. He felt his heart melt inside his chest. She loved him. She really did. As her eyes closed, the walls of her pussy clamped around his dick tightly then pulsed as her face made beautiful expressions, and her throat let out a moan of ecstasy. She was beautiful all the time, but she was damn near a goddess when she came. Holding out as long as humanly possible, he finally let go and enjoyed his own orgasm.
Sweating, panting, and clinging to each other for dear life, he couldn't think of a better way to wake up in the morning. Then, her belly touched his, and he remembered the baby. “Is the baby okay?"
She lifted her head from where it was resting on his shoulder and quirked a brow. “Yeah, why?"
"With all the stress and ... how are you?"
Pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, he watched her expression remain perplexed.
"Are you going to shave this off?” She touched his beard. It wasn't like the thing was long and bushy, but it was full and more hair than he could remember having on his face before.
"If you want me to.” He planned to do it anyways, but he wanted to hear her thoughts on it.
"Please do. It makes my face itch. Imagine what it will do to my thighs.” She smiled and winked at him. He laughed then realized something wasn't right. Here he was holding on to her, and they were flirting and playing, but he should be up shit creek without a paddle right now. She should be mad at him or at the least grieving her mother.
His smile faded and so did hers. She looked serious for a moment then smiled again. “I'm hungry, are you?"
"Well I—"
"Good.” She lifted up and off of him and then rolled out of bed. “Let's grab a shower, and I'll cook while you shave. How does that sound?"
She strolled around to the bathroom. “Come on, lazy, we've already slept in long enough. I know they missed me in the kitchen this morning, but I would like to be there at lunch. Plus, I have this great recipe planned for the dinner menu tonight."
As he stood, he watched her carry on about her business as though nothing happened. It was weird, and he didn't know what to do. Surely his brothers would not be so forgiving this afternoon. He scratched his chin and decided he needed help. The men were no good at dealing with the mood swings of a woman. He needed to talk to the women. With his mind made up, he joined his wife in the shower.
* * * *
He stepped lightly up the stairs to the loft in Jack's house. Bethany was his best option of getting a handle on his current situation. “Hey, you busy?"
She rolled the desk chair, so she could see around the computer monitor and glared at him. Apparently, she was not as forgiving as his wife this morning. “You."
"Yes, me.” He stepped up the few remaining stairs and into the loft. She stood, planted her hands on her hips, and stared at him. “What?"
"I'll tell you what! You, you ran out. I still can't believe it. I really want to put a foot in your ass this afternoon, but I am sure she already has.” Bethany raised her right arm and pointed and shook her finger at him. She finished by crossing her arms over her chest.
"Nope. She's ‘fine.’ And here you are ready to take my head off. So, what does that tell you?” He strolled over and took a seat.
"Excuse me?” She turned to look at him. Jack sure found himself a handful, and not because she was a beautifully voluptuous woman, but because she was tough under all those frilly clothes she wore.
"This isn't easy, what I'm about to do, but I don't suppose you could hold off on putting your foot in my ass until after I ask a favor, could you?” He hated asking anyone for anything. He really hated asking a woman for advice.
"Depends on the favor.” Bethany tapped her right foot and raised a brow.
"I need help. I know I messed up. I know she should be mad at me. I am pretty sure she should be upset about her mother even if they didn't have a strong bond. What I don't know is what to do.” He opened his eyes, not realizing he closed them until he was finished talking. Her foot stopped tapping, and her evil glare turned softer and more concerned.
"What do you mean, exactly? She hasn't said anything about any of it?” Bethany walked to her desk chair and sat down.
He shook his head. “I know you're mad at me. I understand that. I made a mistake. How long can she live in denial?"
Bethany snorted. “I lived in it for thirty years. She can ignore it until she can't. Until something or someone forces her to face the truth. Her mother is dead, and her husband, well, you're still a good man. You just surprised me at how stupid you could be."
"If it helps, I thought she ran out on me again,” he tried to explain.
"No.” She shook her head. “It doesn't help. If you thought she ran out on you, you should have told us before taking off. Instead, you trusted no one. The reason she ran out the first time was because you didn't trust her, and the reason you ran out this time was because again, you don't trust her. If you did, you would have asked one of us. We waited and waited for you. Then, we had to lie to her while worrying about you."
Finally, the reality of it all sank in. Everyone should be pissed at him. Here he was living his life as the responsible one and he did the most irresponsible thing of all. “I didn't think of it like that."
"Well, think about it.” She was back to being cross with him. “I'll talk to her. Maybe some of my anger will rub off on her."
"Gee thanks.” He stood. “Could you maybe not tell any
one..."
"Don't push your luck. It's bad enough Rafe came banging down the door to have Jack's ass for not telling him. I was nice and cozy till then.” She looked off and half smiled in her memories. “When I thought Jack was going to leave me, or kick me out, I felt lost. Truly lost. I'm not saying I need him to know who I am. I'm just saying I didn't know who I could be until I met him."
"And you think she's lost?” he pondered the thought.
"I think you are.” Bethany shook his thoughts right out of his brain.
"What? Me?"
"Yes. You.” She pointed at him. “You can't see the difference she has made in your life because you're stubborn. You can't keep your eyes off of her. You smile a hell of a lot more now that she's around. If you want to know what I think, it's because you're happy. And being happy for real, having what you always wanted, scares the shit out of you, Heath Johnson. I know. It scared me, too."
He thought about her words all the way back to the house. If being happy and having what he wanted scared him, how did it feel to her? Surely she was afraid of it, too. And what about the trust issue? He scoffed. He trusted his brothers; he wasn't used to having to account for his whereabouts all the time.
* * * *
"Missed you at dinner,” Chance said as she sat next to him on the couch. She could tell by his expression he was in a mood. “What did you eat?"
"Sandwich.” He picked up the remote and flipped the channel.
She looked at his profile. Damn, he looked good. He should still be kissing her ass for the stunt he pulled; maybe he needed a reminder. She traced her finger along his thigh. “So, you're not hungry. Is there anything else you might need?"
He stopped her hand on his thigh and patted it before removing it completely. “I would like to catch the news for a change."
"The news?” Her mouth dropped open. He was really acting like nothing happened. Like he didn't leave her in a great time of need. “You don't want to spend time with me? You don't think after what you did I don't deserve a little more attention?"
"I thought you were all right with it. You know, you made a mistake, I made a mistake, no big deal right?” He briefly took his eyes off the television to look at her. He winked before turning his attention back to the screen.
