“No sisters. Four brothers. You have siblings?”
She shook her head. “No. I—” she laughed ruefully. “I always wanted a sister. So I imagined one when I was little. But I was an only child.”
He nodded. “Was it nice to have your parents complete attention? Or was it overwhelming?”
She looked down at the sheets that covered her hips. Oddly, she’d exposed her chest to him, talking this whole time without a bra or her hands covering her breasts. But at that moment, she felt too vulnerable and lifted a sheet’s end to cover her a bit more.
“My parents were gone a lot.” That was the only way she figured she could answer him. How could she tell him her parents were archeologists who were home twice a year? Her aunt had raised her who was also busy finishing her dissertation in feminine studies. Meredith had been raised around academics—she never said raised by academics, for she’d always felt she’d been a lone participant in Lord of the Flies, an odd experiment with how feral a child could be with no real guardian available, a freaking Nell story. Yes, the people who were supposed to have raised her were so busy. And she thought she’d understood that kind of busyness—it was for the betterment of humanity, for other people’s education. But she had been so lonely as a girl. So alone. So desperate for attention.
Surprising her, Jake had reached out and placed a hand on hers, giving her a squeeze. “That had to be rough.”
She swallowed. Her throat constricted and her heart tightened, and through it all she was amazed his sympathy had gotten to her so quickly. Nodding, she adjusted the sheet a bit higher.
He moved quickly and efficiently, covering the space between them in a nanosecond, kissing her lips tenderly and so sweetly. Oh, she liked him. She liked him so much, and knew she could get used to him, wanted to get used to him being here.
But men threw her away. She was garbage, at least in their eyes. She couldn’t rely on anyone. She knew that. Had learned that the brutally hard way.
Yett he kept kissing her softly, and something in her broke. She wanted so much to depend on him, on the kiss.
He leaned away, looking concerned, and she wanted nothing more than to dwell in his sentiment, but knew it was...well, selfish. So she changed the subject.
“How—how did you learn to speak French? Did you go to school? Have a tutor?”
He straightened a bit. “Tutors, mainly. I guess, you could call them tutors. As a lad, I wanted to learn a lot, ye ken? So I asked around. I learned how to read, write, and speak French by the time I was twelve. My brothers and I all learned it, and we’d jest in French to each other, so our father didn’t ken what we’d said. Then when I learned a bit of Latin, we had more fun at our father’s expense and at each other’s as well.”
Meredith smiled. “You speak Latin too?”
He grunted. “My older brother learned Swedish, so we all tried to learn that as well. Bits and pieces at least. Then, when we moved here, my brothers and I learned some of the Iroquois language, a little Algonquian, and the like.”
Meredith knew her mouth was ajar, but couldn’t help it. “You speak at least six languages?”
He shook his head. “As ye can tell, I hardly speak the Queen’s English. So I doubt I speak even one language very well.”
She laughed at his obvious self-effacing humor, but shook her head. “You’re amazing.”
His smile waned into something more serious. “Thank ye.”
“Are your brothers close? I’d love to meet a gaggle of men who tease each other in multiple languages.”
His smile completely vanished then.
God, why had she been so forward? Why had she asked so much? Of course, she longed to know him better, wanted to meet his family, wanted to know what it would feel like to belong to one. But she’d let her racing feelings get the better of her, instead of censoring herself the way she knew she should do. Oh, her stupid mouth.
She braced herself, getting ready for his excuse for why she couldn’t meet his family, why she needed to be pushed aside, ignored, neglected, then thrown away.
He cleared his throat, looking down at his lap. “My brother Douglas died a couple years ago, and since then my family’s been...ripped apart. I haven’t heard from any of them for over a year now.”
She lunged for him and his downcast face. Revealing her body wasn’t at all a concern. She just had to hold him. Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed him along his cheeks and forehead.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He reached around her with his strong, powerful arms, pulling her even tighter. It was intoxicating to feel his embrace, the lead-like feel of his muscles drawing her nearer, his wall of a chest pressing against her breasts, the velvety softness of his warm skin against hers, his heart beating against hers. An odd flittering thought ricocheted through her brain: she would get to know Jake better. In time they’d come to some kind of understanding, and as more time progressed she’d become his family.
Oh, wishful thinking always hurt so much.
“I’m sorry,” she choked, squeezing him a little tighter.
“Thank ye,” he mumbled in her hair.
She pulled away, still holding onto his shoulders, feeling the sinew of his capable muscles. “Is there anything I can do? Help you find them?”
He looked down again, and she wanted to suck in her stomach, hoping he didn’t look at her roundness.
“I don’t know. I hadn’t—that is to say, I’ve never thought—I—” He glanced back up at her, a shy smile occupying his chiseled and perfect features. “If I think of a way to get back to them, mayhap ye can help me? Mayhap ye’d come with me?”
She swallowed, her heart either crushing itself with hope or swallowing itself in misery. Was he making a promise to her? What if he broke that promise? What if he was saying something like that to string her along? What if he didn’t mean it, didn’t want her to meet his brothers? What if he did?
Drifting back to her side of the bed, she nodded absentmindedly. Then she noticed the Blue Willow plates, empty save for the chicken bones. Stacking the plates, she left the bed in a hurry, afraid she’d cry if she stayed close to him, wanting him so much she was scared he could see it, see right through her to how much she ached. Which would, of course, make him uncomfortable, to say the least.
Carefully placing the plates in her sink, she started to pump the water, hoping it wasn’t cold enough outside to freeze the pipe. Again. Also, she started to list off all the parts of her that waggled too much each time she moved, feeling more and more disgusted with her body, so exposed for Jake to see each and every one of her imperfections.
She couldn’t believe he’d tried to suggest he stay covered just because he had a few scars. They were rather small, but some of them were deep, making her wonder if it was measles or mumps he’d had. The two largest welts over the left side of his chest, almost looked like...well, it had looked like stitches had needed to be applied. Poor man. It had to have been painful—that’s all she’d thought when she saw his scars. His body, however, was perfection—all hard ridges, clearly defined muscles standing out. He’d worked his body hard for years, and it showed and made her want to kiss and savor every inch of his. But all she could think about was her body—cottage cheese butt. Was he cringing in disgust? Crap, what had she been thinking, walking around naked like this? He was sure to leave her now.
“Meredith,” Jake said a few inches from her.
She jumped, surprised he’d somehow snuck up on her. His gray gaze bounced down to her chest, where she tried to hold her own bouncing bits. He glanced back up into her eyes.
“If ye don’t want to meet my brothers, that’s fine.”
“I do,” she said too fast, probably sounding too eager.
He studied her eyes for a very long time, standing so naked in front of her. She wanted to stare at him, wanted to see every fiber of his body, but focused on his eyes too.
“Then...then, why’d leave the bed? Ye seem upset �
�bout something.”
She licked her lips as the pump suddenly sputtered to life, splashing icy water across the sink and on Meredith. Jumping again, she scooted back, then raced forward trying to push the pump closed. Jake leaned over, and, making it look as though he was merely pushing a feather, turned off the pump. He swiveled to her as she tried to slick away the water from her stomach and chest.
He huffed.
Glancing up, she wondered if he’d lost his patience with her and would leave at any minute. But he stepped closer, his hands grasping her waist, pulling her against him.
“Lord, I can’t think straight with ye so naked, running about, and now wet.”
She was going to ask whether he’d prefer she wear a robe, but then felt his cock stir and harden. That was rather exciting.
“I was trying’ to ask if ye’re upset.” His hands caressed down her back.
She shook her head, closing her eyes to relish the feel of his light touch.
“Ye want to meet my brothers then?”
She opened her eyes. “Yes. Very much.”
He smiled, his hold on her lowering to her backside. “In a way, I’m glad they’re not here. They’d fight me for ye. I’m sure of it.”
She laughed, not sure if he was teasing her or not.
“Ach, they would. My brother Duncan, he’s the big one. Women swoon because he’s so tall. My brother Michael is too handsome for his own good. Women follow him ‘round as if he’s Apollo himself. Then there’s Thomas, the quiet charmer. He’s charmed more women into his bed then I’d care to admit to a fine lady like ye. And lookin’ at ye, Meredith, I ken they’d want ye. I’d have to fight every single one of them for ye.”
In all her time with David, he’d never complimented her, never called her beautiful, or belle, or much of anything. And she’d never felt particularly pretty. Having plain brown hair never helped, and her owl-like eyes made her feel as though she looked more like a cartoon character than a real woman, especially so with her elfish nose. She’d never felt real.
Until that second.
She didn’t know whether Jake was just particularly good at charming too or if he was speaking the truth. And, oh, how she wanted it to be the truth, because even if it was a lie, it was the prettiest lie she’d ever been told. It made her feel beautiful. Desirable. Proof was in his erection pressed against her stomach.
She reached her arms around his neck, simultaneously lifting up on her toes. Wanting to tell him how there was no need to fight, she was his, but needing to keep her damned mouth shut, Meredith kissed him instead. Their tongues collided, and she felt her body buzz with energy. Feeling happier than she might have ever been, she lifted her knee, wrapping her leg around him. He moaned and grasped the back of her calf, except her balance wasn’t the best on one set of toes, and she teetered. Catching her, he pushed her up on the lip of her pantry. Somehow, they ended up laughing and looking at each other in the process, and Meredith’s heart beat so loud, she worried he heard it.
Thinking frantically of saying something, she asked, “How old are you?”
“Four and twenty. You?”
She nearly died. Covering her face with her hands, she shook her head. “No. You can’t be. Oh my God.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, while he tried to pry her fingers from her visage.
“Oh my God, no.” She was mortified. He was so young. She’d guessed he was younger than her, but twenty-four? Twenty-freaking-four?
“What is it, Meredith?”
He was as young as some of her students. As many of her students, actually. That’s what was wrong.
She swallowed and somehow jumped away from her pantry and him, still covering her mouth with her fingers.
“Ye’re scaring me, woman. What’s wrong with my age? Ye can’t be much older than I. Mayhap by a year?”
She shook her head and finally turned. He’d followed her, his perfect body, so chiseled and lovely, so close. His erection might have lessened from a moment ago, but it was still there, straining toward her.
“I’m eight years your senior.”
He straightened. “Nay, ye can’t be. Ye look my age.”
“It’s my stupid eyes and idiotic freckles. I look like a child, but I’m much older than you, I assure you.”
He laughed for a moment, but then pointed a finger at her with a scowl. “Don’t talk about yer eyes and freckles like that. I love those parts of ye. And it’s not like ye’re a million years older than I. Ye just have eight years on me. That’s all.”
“That’s all? That’s a huge age difference.”
“Nay. Not at all. Plus, no one would ken our difference, since ye happen to look young.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and he noticed with his grin turning into a leering smirk. She was softening towards his argument, and she knew she probably should say something more about being older than him, but he looked so adorable and so sexy.
He took another step closer, his hands gracing up her arms. “Lastly, my birthday is soon, making ye only seven years older than I.”
She chuckled and let herself get wrapped up in his arms and naked body. “When’s your birthday?”
“The sixth.”
“Of January?”
He nodded, caressing her arms and back.
“You’re an Epiphany baby.”
He stilled, looking down at her a bit shocked. “Aye, born on the Twelfth Night too.”
“It means you’re lucky, doesn’t it?”
He held her tighter. “For once, I would agree with that.”
Reaching down, he kissed her then.
“I want ye again.” His voice rasped and was all sex.
She shuddered, wanting him too. Inspiration struck, making her smile up at him. “I have an idea.”
“I do too.” He ground himself against her.
She giggled, desire making her breasts feel heavy, her thighs tingled. Grabbing his wrists she pulled him with her nearer to the door. “I have a very good idea. Let’s take a shower together.”
*
“Lord, ye made this with yer tiny hands?” Jake admired Meredith for building the tall shower contraption that swallowed a third of her porch.
It was cold as sin outside and just as dark, but there he stood with a white blanket wrapped around him, and Meredith tucked in that plaid of hers, stoking a fire in a small boiler close to the large canister device she called a shower.
She had a huge grin, her cheeks ablaze with the flames and her enthusiasm. “Yes. I find I rather like making things. I wanted to make this, thought about it for a couple weeks, then started to draw the design. It’s nowhere near perfect, and we’ll have hot water for only about ten minutes, but it’s warm running water. Can’t beat that.”
He chuckled, liking this side of her. Ah, hell, he liked all sides of her. But right now, she was as animated and energetic as the fire in the boiler, heating the water for said shower. She was glorious.
In her beautiful excitement, he almost forgot about the possibility of a threat, but he had checked for marks or signs that someone was close by. There was nothing. He wondered if the man on her porch had been some straggler who had eventually run off, never to be seen again. However, she had slapped a company mining man, although, the smack was probably called for, in his estimation. Aye, this Mr. Bruisner needed to answer a few questions. But in the meantime, it seemed Meredith was safe.
Yet Jake knew well enough that often things could change quicker than the blink of an eye. His own life was an example of that. One moment he thought he was dying from smallpox, the next he was shuttled God knew where, then he was a witness to atrocities no one should see, should know about. Railway law...he knew there was no such thing and had seen men acting inhumanely, acting like animals. Nay, animals would mayhap have more decency than what he’d witnessed.
A cold, small hand wrapped around his cheek.
“You all right?” Meredith asked, her voice raspy, reminding him where he
was, and the hope he’d never see anything like that again.
He held her hand to his cheek, no longer worried she found his skin disgusting. She might, though, not like his whiskers rubbing against her soft skin. He needed to shave.
Nodding, he forced his lips to curve up. It wasn’t much of a chore when he gazed upon her sparkling violet eyes, the concerned way her dark brows drew together.
“Yes.”
“Do—do—” she pulled her hand away and grouped the plaid more tightly around herself, frowning. “Do you think me odd, not feminine, for making this?”
God, by being lost in the past, she’d had to wonder if he wasn’t proud of her for building such a feat. He chided himself and knew it was always best to remain in the present, for it was such a gift now.
“Nay, woman, this is wonderful work ye did. Amazing. Ye think of patenting it?”
Her brows arched high. “No. I hadn’t.”
His smile grew. “Ye might think of it. Ye might make a pretty penny on yer shower contraption.”
The curve of her lips upward made him feel, again, like the victor of a war. Whichever war, he knew not, and it didn’t matter. He’d won, and that was all that mattered.
“You want to take a shower with me?” she asked, her eyes averted from his, seeming shyer than usual.
“Yes.” Whatever taking a shower was sounded like paradise.
He also knew they should talk more, get to know each other, but it seemed all his body could do was be close to hers. And to be a wee bit too excited. He’d probably be sore tomorrow, not from making love to her, but from wanting her so much.
She fetched any remaining hairpins from her tresses, piling the three pins on the porch’s railing, then pushed a lever, and another one, and soon Jake heard the pitter-patter of water falling. Meredith pulled a curtained glass door, and there, inside the canister, was a warm rainstorm. Only, it was gentle and sweet, like the way it could rain in the summer months in South Carolina. Meredith had created a shower.
With only the silver moon and stars as light, he tried to see how the water dribbled the way it did.
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