by Cora Seton
“Now it’s your turn.”
She thought a moment. “Books or movies?”
“Hmm. That’s a trick question. You want me to say books, but the truth is movies.”
Nora smiled. “You’re right about that, but I’ll let it slide. As long as they aren’t zombie movies.”
“My favorite kind.” She groaned and he laughed. “Winter or summer?” he asked, tugging at her hand.
“Summer. Hamburgers or hotdogs?”
He chuckled. “Steak.” She elbowed him. “Hamburgers.” He lowered his voice. “Kissing or cuddling?” He waited for her reaction to that one, and was gratified when she sent him a sidelong look that betrayed her interest.
“Cuddling. Holding hands or looking into each other’s eyes?”
“Holding hands.” He squeezed hers and lifted it up to press a kiss in her palm. “Skinny dipping or hot tubbing?” Would she rise to the bait?
“Skinny dipping in a hot tub,” she declared. Clay’s pulse sped up. That sounded like a lot of fun. “Under the stars or in a five-star hotel room?”
Clay thought about that. “Both could be real good,” he said after a minute, “but I think I’d like to have you under the stars.” He let go of her hand and slid his arm around her waist. They were under the stars now. Was she thinking about making love to him?
He leaned closer. “On top or underneath?” he whispered into her ear, then kissed the top of her head.
She rested against his chest, and he put his arms around her. When she tilted her head back, he bent down and possessed her mouth with his. Nora met him with a hunger equal to his own, and something caught fire within Clay. He needed this woman, now and forever. Even the worst day got better when she was around.
When she broke away from him and grabbed his hand, he moaned his discontent, but when she started back for the camp, he understood what she wanted. “Not back there. They’ll be waiting for us this time.”
“Where, then?”
Clay thought about that. When the answer came, he nearly laughed out loud. “I know a place.”
Nora wondered if Clay meant to march her all the way to town after they’d walked for about twenty minutes. “Where are we going?”
“It’s just a little farther.”
They’d crossed the creek, Clay taking off his shoes and carrying her in his arms, and had followed the track away from the water overland toward the west. The sun was setting, its rays casting long shadows across the coarse landscape.
“Around this bend,” Clay said finally, just as Nora was ready to give up altogether. The boots she wore under her gown were sturdy, but they weren’t meant for this kind of outing. Her feet were beginning to hurt, but she forgot all that when a small white structure came into view.
“Is that—is that a one-room schoolhouse?” she asked in surprise.
“You got it. Long out of use, of course.” Clay led her to the door and opened it. Nora couldn’t believe such a thing still existed. “There’s another one nearer to town that’s been kept up by the historical society, so this one doesn’t get much love. We used to come and play here sometimes as kids, though.”
“It’s amazing.” She couldn’t believe it wasn’t locked up tight. Didn’t vandals get in and destroy things? “Is this on Westfield land?”
Clay nodded. “Yep. Years ago, the Westfield children were educated here along with a lot of their neighbors. It’s a testament to the construction skills of our forebears that it’s still standing after all this time. Montana winters are hard on buildings that aren’t heated. Would you have liked to teach at a school like this?”
“I’d have loved it. I still would. Sometimes I daydream about—” She cut off. She couldn’t say that out loud. She’d never told anyone about her secret fantasy.
“About what?” He came and placed his hands on her hips. “You can tell me anything, you know. I won’t spill your secrets, and there aren’t any cameras here.”
She was glad of that, and glad of the dim light, too, as the sun set beyond the hills. Clay leaned down to kiss her, and she thought she could stay right here with him forever, no matter if the windows were boarded up and the building rather musty.
“You daydream about…” he prompted when he pulled back.
“Being a teacher again. Having a school like this someday,” she whispered. “Filled with all of our children. Boone and Riley’s, Savannah and Jericho’s, Avery and Walker’s.”
“Yours and mine?” Clay suggested, tugging her closer. “I’d like nothing better.” He kissed her again, a kiss that thrilled her all the way to her toes and seemed to contain promises of everything that could happen in the years ahead. Standing in front of her, his legs braced apart, Clay seemed the epitome of strength and stability, and Nora longed to be part of his vision.
“You’d like that because then you’d win,” she said pertly, because wanting what she couldn’t have—or shouldn’t have—hurt too much.
“We’d win,” he corrected her. “It doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive, does it?”
“Maybe not,” she conceded.
“You still haven’t answered,” Clay said, sliding his hands up to the ties of her dress. He undid them slowly, giving her every opportunity to stop him.
She didn’t want to stop him.
When he had them undone, he kicked off his boots, jeans and boxers, and peeled off his shirt as she turned to present him with her stays. As he worked at them, he stood close enough she could feel his arousal bobbing against her back. She reached behind her to wrap her fingers around him. Clay groaned deep in his throat and worked faster to undo her ties, but as she slid her fingers over him, teasing another groan out of him, his fingers slowed and he braced himself, his hands gripping her hips.
There was something so sexy about playing with Clay when she couldn’t see him. As the light faded, it grew dark in the schoolroom, but Nora wasn’t afraid. She was with Clay.
Knowing he was caught behind her, helpless under her touch, made her feel wanton and powerful. When he slid a hand down between her legs, however, Nora shut her eyes and moaned, unsure who was teasing who. He must have liked that response, because he slid his hand up under her stays and cupped her breast. Nora leaned into his touch, already panting with need. She didn’t know what it was about Clay that brought her so quickly to such a state. A few minutes ago they’d been having a conversation. Now they were joined by a state of bliss they could only create together.
But as good as this felt, she wanted more.
Nora pulled off her dress, shift and stays. Clay helped her, peeling them up and over her head. He hesitated. “The floor’s in a bad state. Here. I’ve got an idea.”
He laid her dress and underthings carefully over one of the old desks, took her hand and tugged her over. Gently placing her hands palm down on the wooden surface of another one of them, he stood behind her and slid his hands over her hips. Nora understood what he meant. She braced her hands on the desk, and when she looked back over her shoulder at him, just enough starlight filtered through the gaps of the boarded windows for her to see the gleam in his eyes.
Nudging her legs apart, he reached down to touch her. She knew he’d find her hot and wet; she’d been aching for him for hours. The stroke of his fingers quickly brought her to the brink.
“Clay—”
“I want you really ready.” His voice was husky, and as he returned to teasing her, Nora thought there was no way she could hold on. Somehow she did, and a few minutes later, tingling all over, vibrating with need, she moaned with pleasure as he kissed her neck and teased her nipples with his free hand. When she thought she couldn’t last any longer, he rustled through the clothes he’d dropped on the floor, pulled a condom out of some pocket and sheathed himself.
“Hold on,” he said.
She leaned forward and braced herself again, biting her lip when he nudged against her. As he slowly filled her with a strong, sensuous stroke, she felt weak in the knees.
&n
bsp; “Okay?” he whispered in her ear. Nora nodded. More than okay.
Amazing.
As he pulled out and pressed in again, the sensation was so overpowering Nora could only try to hang on. The delicious friction made every nerve ending tingle. She pushed back against him as he sank deep inside her again. Her breasts, taut and heavy, swung as they moved together. Clay tangled a hand in her hair, braced his other hand on her hip and sped up, making her moan all over again.
As Clay’s pace picked up, Nora’s thoughts and feelings merged into a liquid blur of pleasure. It all felt so good, she didn’t want it to end, but the crescendo building inside her couldn’t be contained for long, not the way he was touching her.
When her orgasm crashed over her, Nora could only ride the wave of sensation. It pulsed through her hard and fast, shaking her in its intensity, until her vision blurred and she bucked against him as hard as he was crashing into her. When it was over and Clay panted behind her, she had the feeling if he shifted an inch, they could start all over again.
She was ready to try.
“You have to,” Clay whispered into her hair as he gently pulled out of her, turned her around and held her against his chest where she could hear his heart beating. She realized her hairdo had fallen apart during their lovemaking, but she didn’t care.
“Have to what?” she murmured. She was warm and sated and hungry all at the same time.
“Have to marry me. I want that every day. Don’t you?” He tilted up her chin and brushed his mouth over hers, gathering her close against him. “Nora, I want you. I want all of you. Forever. Say yes.”
God knew she wanted to. No one had ever made her feel like this. She’d never been able to speak her needs so clearly with a man, either. She felt so easy with Clay, even if they hadn’t known each other very long.
Maybe he was right.
“Think about it. Living together, loving each other.” He chuckled. “Building houses together.”
Nora blinked. There was the problem. Marrying Clay meant marrying a whole lifestyle. One she hadn’t chosen for herself.
“I’m not sure about that last part,” she said honestly.
“I was kidding. You won’t have to help me forever. It would be cool if you did,” he admitted, “but not necessary.”
She shifted into a more comfortable position. “I don’t like being told what to do with my time. I came here for a reason. Doesn’t it bother you to be dictated to?”
With a sigh, Clay eased back an inch, although he kept his arms around her. “I’ve been in the Navy for years. It’s second nature to let myself be allocated to the job that needs me most.”
“I didn’t join the Navy, though. I didn’t even join Base Camp. I got pushed into it.”
“Don’t let that stop us from being together.” He touched her face. There was so much love in his voice, it made Nora ache to hear it. “Sometimes you have to give a little to get a little.”
“What about my writing?”
Clay was silent for a moment. “You wrote last night. I would have waited for you if you’d asked tonight.”
“An hour here, a half hour there. That’s not what I came here for. I’m living in a tent. I’m part of a reality television show. Not by choice.”
“I guess what you’re getting in return for that is me,” he said bluntly. “Only you can decide if that’s enough.”
It felt like enough—almost. Nora wasn’t wet behind the ears, though. She knew the precedents they were setting right now would carry through their relationship.
“I’m not ready to decide that tonight,” she said. “I like you a lot. I like the way we feel together. But I have to know for sure. I’m sorry.” She held her breath, afraid he’d leave. He’d gone so still she knew instinctively he was thinking about it.
“I guess I can’t expect you to rush into anything.” He was obviously disappointed, and Nora’s heart constricted.
“Clay, be a little patient, okay?” She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him, fitting her body against his. When he kissed her again, she knew all would be well—at least for now. She kissed him back, her hunger for him welling up all over again. “I want you,” she whispered in his ear. “I want you all the time.”
“Sooner or later you’ll realize what we have is worth fighting for. I’ll be waiting,” he warned her.
She nodded, not daring to speak. She was so close to saying yes, the word was on her lips as he sheathed himself a second time, lifted her onto the desk and pressed into her all over again as she wrapped her legs around his back.
But still she kept silent.
When Clay woke the following morning, alone in his tent, all he could think of was Nora. He hadn’t noticed the long march home when they were finally finished with lovemaking. He’d been too drunk on the taste of her—the feel of being inside her.
He’d proposed.
Clay sat up.
She’d turned him down.
But then she’d made love to him, giving herself so wholeheartedly he felt like they were engaged no matter what she said. She’d looked so beautiful in the dim light, Clay had tried to make the moment last as long as he could, but when she’d arched back and cried out, he’d followed her right over the edge. No one made him as hungry as she did. No woman had availed herself of his body so freely, either. Halfway home she’d been ready for another round. He’d obliged her gladly in a good old-fashioned romp under the stars that left both of them out of breath, and his clothes soaked through. He’d tried to spare her beautiful gown, but he wasn’t sure how it had fared.
Back in Base Camp, the rest of its inhabitants long asleep, they’d showered together in the freezing water in the bunkhouse, dried each other off with towels and nearly made love all over again. “You’d better go get some sleep,” he’d told her.
“I just want you too much,” she’d answered.
He wouldn’t rest easy until she became his wife, but Clay thought there was no way she could keep her distance when they were so good together. He’d keep close and keep asking, he decided. There wasn’t anything else he could do.
A half hour later, they met in the line for breakfast, and he leaned in for a quick kiss.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he whispered.
“Cameras.”
“I know.” He backed off reluctantly.
Nora was cheerful through the meal, however, and Clay felt good about the chances of things turning out. Maybe he just had to keep making love to her to get her to say yes. He didn’t mind that one bit.
After breakfast they parted ways. To Clay’s surprise, Dell appeared at the building site with the other men, but instead of interfering and offering unwanted opinions, he simply pitched in and did what he was told. They made terrific progress on Boone and Riley’s house.
Clay had never seen Dell like this. He imagined his dad must have acted this way at job sites often enough—he’d never been fired until recently, after all—but it wasn’t a side of his father he was familiar with. When Boone came by an hour later and mentioned they really needed a shed built near the main gardens, Clay thought it was a chance to throw his dad a bone.
“Dad, do you want to take that on? You wouldn’t have to answer to me,” Clay said when he’d pulled Dell aside and told him about Boone’s request.
To his surprise, Dell shot him a withering look. “Just like I thought. You want to get rid of me.”
“I’m trying to give you a project that will interest you,” Clay protested.
“A shed? You think I’m interested in sheds? I’ve been in this business for thirty-five years. My aspirations run a little higher than that.”
His raised voice attracted attention, and Clay lost his patience. “I don’t know what you want from me. I’ve done everything I can to help you out—”
“I don’t want your help. I just want a little goddamned respect! Is that so much to ask?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Clay saw Nora approaching, a wary expressio
n on her face. She hesitated a little distance away, and he knew she was waiting for instructions. Dell caught sight of her, too.
“Steer clear of this one,” he said to her, indicating Clay. “He’ll treat you like he’s treating me someday.”
“What about how you’re treating me?” Stung, Clay forgot to keep his voice down. “You keep railroading right over me like I’m some kid playing a game. This is serious stuff.”
“Tiny houses? Reality TV shows? Pardon me if I think it’s all a great big joke.” Dell stormed away, leaving Clay close to blowing his top. He couldn’t blame the man for his frustration. He was right; there weren’t any projects here that suited his skills. Clay had no idea why he didn’t just go ahead and become an architect like he’d always wanted to.
Something clicked as Nora approached. His father had always wanted to be an architect. Yet here he was after thirty-five years working construction, still no closer to that goal.
“That wasn’t fair of him to say,” Nora told him, reaching his side. “He’s angry at himself, really.”
Clay shoved his hands in his pockets and watched his father stride across the fields toward distant pastures. “I think he’s angry because he’s never really had a chance to pursue his true goals.”
“Do you know what those goals are?” She was back in one of her work gowns, with a voluminous apron over it.
“Yeah, I do,” Clay admitted. “They’re the same as mine. He wants to be an architect.”
“I didn’t know that about you. I mean, I knew you designed the tiny houses, but I thought you liked the building part best.”
“I like both parts,” Clay said. “I like to design things and then build them. But my designs won’t be taken seriously if I don’t have the right qualifications.”
“A degree.”
“Exactly.”
“Does your dad want to go to school?”
Did he? Clay had no idea.
He pulled out his phone and called his mom. Nora watched him. When his mother answered, he launched right into his questions. “It’s architecture, right? That’s what Dad needs to do? Why hasn’t he ever gone back to school?”
