by Leah Brooke
Chapter Eleven
Carson waited with Sam until Deanna finished bathing Casey before clearing the last of the snow from the sidewalk and driveway and salting them.
He couldn’t stop glancing at the house, hoping to get a glimpse of Deanna or Casey.
Sam lifted the empty bucket and set it in the back of their truck, along with the shovel he’d been using. “Casey looked a little better after her bath.”
Carson sighed and turned away, carrying his own shovel to the truck bed. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Sam glanced at the house again before getting into the truck. “If we do, we’ll just have to fix it.”
Still irritated that she’d called Len instead of calling their cell phones, Carson got into the truck, slamming the door closed behind him. “I want to believe she’ll call us if she needs something. I hope like hell that we got that point through to her.”
Sam backed out and drove to the shed where they kept firewood stacked. “I hope so, too. If not, we will.”
He didn’t speak again until they pulled up in front of the shed and threw the truck into park with a hard sigh. “We have to.”
Carson understood his friend’s frustration. “We know how to run a ranch, train horses, rope anything, and can ride bulls with the best of them. I can’t think of a damned thing that has scared either one of us in years. Hell, we weren’t even worried about buying the ranch or taking on the debt that came with it.”
Shaking his head, he smiled as he opened his door. “We’ve had a hell of a lot of fun sharing women in the past, but with Deanna, it’s not all fun and games.”
Sam smiled and stepped out, rounding the truck as Carson opened the shed. “We’ve outgrown that.”
“Speak for yourself.” Carson chuckled and gathered an armful of logs. “I plan to have a hell of a lot of fun with her.”
After stacking the logs in the truck bed, Carson sighed. “Having something permanent with her scares the hell out of me.”
Sam dropped his armful of logs into the truck bed. “Then bow out. Leave her and Casey to me.”
“Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere.” He gathered another load. “I just don’t want to fuck this up. Neither one of us has had a long-term relationship in quite some time.”
“True.” Sam followed him out to the tuck again. “We’ve been too damned busy making the changes we wanted at the ranch to have time for more than one-night stands.”
Carson smiled. “It looks like that’s over.”
“Looks like.” Sam turned from setting more logs in the back. “What I know about raising a little girl wouldn’t fit in a thimble, and sharing a woman on a permanent basis scares me as much as it intrigues me. We’re just going to have to stick together. Both of them need the security of a united front.”
“That’s for sure.” Carson went for another armload, once again fighting back anger at the thought of Deanna’s life in Mississippi. “How a man can treat a woman like that is beyond me.”
After loading the bed of the pickup with firewood, Carson rode with Sam back to the main house, inwardly cursing when he got a phone call that took them in another direction.
By the time he dealt with the insurance adjuster while Sam dealt with questions from ranch hands and spoke to Al Mosley, almost two hours had passed.
Just as Carson got back into the truck, his cell phone rang.
Digging it out, he looked at Sam, who’d stiffened.
“Is it her?” Sam slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
Carson checked the display and got in. “It’s Mary.” He hurried to answer, putting it on speaker, worried that something had happened to Deanna or Casey. “Mary, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted you to know that the soup is ready.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Carson sat back. “Okay. Thanks. We’ll be there in a few minutes. We’ve gotta shower before we go back over there. Did she call?”
“No, she didn’t call.”
“Good. We’re on our way.”
When Carson walked through the back door a few minutes later, he found Mary stirring the soup simmering on the back burner.
Turning, she smiled. “Soup’s ready. I’ll turn it off so it cools a little for you to take it over. How’s Casey doing?”
“We don’t know.” Sam grabbed a cookie from the plastic container Mary had filled with more homemade cookies and sat to take off his boots. “Deanna got some medicine in her, set up the vaporizer, and gave her a bath before we left.”
“I saw her when she left this morning. She’s pretty—even with a black eye.”
Carson looked up and set his boots aside. “Been staring out the window with the binoculars again?”
It was a habit she’d picked up after Don’s first heart attack in an effort to look out for him, but Carson didn’t know how he felt about her spying on Deanna.
Mary shrugged and moved to the table, closing the lid on the container of cookies. “Can’t see inside the house. Outside is public. You can’t blame me for being curious.”
Mary frowned, her eyes flashing with anger. “Broken wrist, too, and she moved a little too carefully, like one of you or the men do when you have broken ribs.”
Carson rose and poured himself and Sam each a cup of coffee. “You see too much.”
After setting one in front of Sam, he sat down with his own and opened the container of cookies again, helping himself to one.
“Neither one of you has much of a sweet tooth.” Looking up out of the corner of her eye, she smiled faintly. “Seems you’ve developed a taste for something sweet.”
Sam helped himself to another cookie. “Don would have wanted us to look out for her.”
“Uh-huh.” Clearly amused, Mary grinned, but after a pregnant silence, she sighed, her smile falling. “She’s running from trouble, isn’t she?”
Carson sipped his coffee. “Like I said, you see too much.”
Mary eyed each of them, wiping the table with the towel she always kept tucked into the waistband of her apron. “That stuff Don talked about?”
Surprised, Carson blinked and glanced at Sam. “He talked to you about her?”
Mary shrugged. “He mentioned something once when he read one of her letters. Said he wished he could help her. I asked what he was talking about—to help her with what? He got tears in his eyes and said that he was afraid her husband would kill her. Talked about going to get her. The next morning, he had his first heart attack. We never talked about it again.”
Mary went to the counter and picked up her binoculars. “I’ll be on the lookout for trouble—and I’ll be listening for Casey’s whistle.”
Carson shook his head, giving her a warning look. “You stay out of the way. I want you to be alert, but if you see something, stay in the house, lock the doors, and let one of us know about it.”
“You sound as if you’re looking forward to some trouble.”
“Nothing would make me happier than making a little trouble myself.”
* * * *
Hearing the back door open, Deanna reluctantly opened her eyes, her heart beating faster at the sound of whispered masculine voices.
Stretched out on the sofa, she looked down at Casey, who sat on her thighs, coloring in one of her new coloring books, her smile falling when her daughter stiffened and scrambled up her chest.
“Did Daddy find us?” Casey’s whispered question held a fear that brought a lump to Deanna’s throat.
Wrapping her arms around her, Deanna rubbed her back. “No, sweetie. That sounds like Carson and Sam.”
Carson came through the doorway, his grim expression telling Deanna that he’d overheard Casey. “Sorry, Lil’ bit. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Their gazes locked for only a second or two but had an impact on her senses that made it difficult to breathe.
He started toward Casey, his smile one of affection and indulgence. “How’s my Lil’ bit?”
Crouchi
Sitting up, Casey dropped her crayon into the box and gripped her doll, surprising Deanna by holding up an arm in a silent demand to be picked up.
Carson’s smile widened as he reached for her, but he had to clear his throat before speaking again. “There’s my little girl.”
Sam had walked into the room just in time to witness the short scene, appearing just as affected as Carson. “Sorry we were gone so long.”
Deanna struggled to a sitting position to make room for Carson as he lowered himself to the sofa by her feet and settled Casey on his lap. “That’s okay. I told you that we’re fine. We’re not your responsibility.”
“Uh-huh.” Sam slipped his hands beneath her, stealing her breath, and, with an ease that both excited and unsettled her, lifted her against his chest and turned to lower himself to the sofa with her on her lap. “We don’t feel that way, and we missed our girls.”
Cupping the back of her head, he leaned over her, blocking her view of Carson and Casey. “We’ve been thinking about both of you since we left.”
Holding up her wrist, he touched his lips to her cast. “How do you feel? Are you in any pain?”
Deanna smiled, the skin around her cheek and eye tightening. “I’m fine.”
“You look tired.” Sam took her hand and placed it on his chest. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
“Not much. Casey was up most of the night. I had some children’s ibuprofen with me, but I gave her the last dose this morning.”
His eyes narrowed. “You should have called last night. We could have had the doctor come over.”
Frowning, Deanna sat up. “Sam, not in the middle of the night.”
Sliding a hand up her back, Sam inclined his head. “Yes. Even in the middle of the night. We give Dr. Scott a lot of business, and men get hurt in the middle of the night. He’s always available to come out to the ranch.”
Carson frowned. “Did you like him? Did Casey?”
“Yes.” Watching Sam and Carson share a look, Deanna had the uneasy feeling that if she hadn’t liked the doctor, he would be replaced. “We both liked him very much.”
Helping Casey reach for her crayons and coloring book, Carson eyed Deanna. “I called him. He’s coming over tomorrow to check on both of you.”
Looking up, Casey closed her book, handed her crayon to Carson, and picked up her doll again. “We have chocyate chip cookies. You can have some if you want.”
Sam turned his head to smile at Deanna, an intimate smile of shared amusement and pride. “Did she have any cookies?”
Shaking her head, Deanna hid a smile, looking from him to Carson and then to her devious daughter. “No. I wanted her to eat something that would be light on her stomach.”
Carson’s eyes danced. “Did you eat something?”
“Yep.” Eyeing Sam, she held her doll tighter. “Mommy made scambied eggs.”
“Scambied eggs, huh?” Carson chuckled and reached out to close his hand over one of Deanna’s stockinged feet as if in need of the connection. “Mary makes me scrambled eggs sometimes. Did you eat all of yours?”
“Yes, so I can have cookies.” Casey lifted her chin as if daring him to argue against her logic.
Sam’s lips twitched. “Is that a fact?”
“Yep. I took my medicine and ate all my scrambied eggs. I drinked all my juice.”
Sam bent Deanna back over his arm and nuzzled her jaw. “What do you say?”
Giggling, Deanna yanked her foot from Carson’s hold. “She can have two cookies. I have to fix her lunch in a little while.”
Sam shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Mary’s chicken soup is on the stove—along with more cookies.”
Casey wiggled as Carson rose with her, her eyes wide with awe. “More cookies?”
Carson grinned. “Yes, but they’re only for little girls who take their medicine and listen to their mommies.”
“I’m a good girl, and I always yisten to Mommy.”
Sam slid a hand to her hip, holding firmly when she would have risen and easing her back over his arm again. “Carson, take Casey’s coloring book and crayons with you. Deanna and I are gonna have a little talk.”
Nervous at the prospect, Deanna watched Carson smile and nod, speaking to Casey in a playful voice as they disappeared into the kitchen.
Once they were out of view, Deanna stiffened and tried to rise, but Sam firmed his hold. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Sam closed his hands on her hips and lifted her with an ease and tenderness that only a strong man could yield. Lowering her to straddle him, he smiled and slid his hands to her waist. “About how much I missed you today.”
Gripping his shoulders, she jolted when his lips moved over her neck. “You d-don’t know me well enough to m-miss me.”
“I know you well enough to know that you’re turning me inside out.” His lips moved over her neck and up to her jaw, sending a warm tingling sensation spreading outward. “I know that wanting you and worrying about you keeps me awake at night.”
Deanna stiffened when his hands slid higher to cover her breasts, anticipating a rough squeeze.
Lifting his head, he pulled her closer, sliding his thumbs back and forth over her nipples. “You’re so damned sexy.”
Sucking in a breath at the sharp sensation—a hot sizzle that raced to her slit—Deanna gripped his shoulders tighter. “Not sexy.”
Dizzy from the pleasure, she pressed her lips against his in a silent plea for his kiss. “Bruised. Beaten.”
Sam’s arms came around her, one hand at her back and the other tangling in her hair. “And that enrages me.” His lips brushed over hers. “Infuriates me.”
Lifting his head, Sam stared down at her, his eyes narrowed. “Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you.”
Not knowing what he intended to do, Deanna stiffened, sucking in a breath when he slid his hands to the outer curve of her breasts, lightly caressing her nipples again.
“Easy, baby. I won’t hurt you.” His lips brushed back and forth over hers. “You stiffen up when I touch you, but then you melt.” Lifting his head, he slid his hands under her sweater and unfastened her bra. “I just want to touch you. God, you’re so damned sweet. Let me give you pleasure, baby. Let me make you feel good.”
Her harsh moan sounded strange to her own ears, a carnal sound that seemed to excite Sam.
With a hand at the back of the neck and another at the small of her back, he laid her on the sofa and covered her body with his. “Shh. I don’t want Casey to think I’m hurting you and run out here.”
His smile tripped her pulse, and as he stretched out on his side on the outer edge of the sofa, he lifted her sweater higher to expose her breasts.
Lowering his gaze, he let his gaze rake over them, the appreciation in his eyes touching her deeply. “You are so damned beautiful.”
Self-conscious about the ugly bruise on her ribs, she tried to cover it, but Sam took her hand in his, kissing it above her cast.
“Don’t. You’re beautiful. Stay still.” He grinned again and gave her another devastating smile. “I’m trying not to press against your ribs, but you’re wiggling.”
Cupping the back of her head, he slid a hand into the waistband of her sweatpants, bending his head to suck her nipple into his mouth.
A cry escaped before she could prevent it, but it was a cry Sam seemed to have anticipated.
With a deep, masculine groan, he covered her mouth with his, swallowing her groan as he slipped his fingers between her folds.
Gripping his shoulder, Deanna struggled to keep silent even as she arched against him.
Her clit burned beneath his fingers, feeling more swollen and heavier with each mind-numbing stroke.
In the back of her mind, it registered that his fingers had become slick with her juices, her pussy clenching at the pleasure and releasing even more.
His palm remained flat on her mound, holding firm despite her wiggling, which allowed him to continue his slow strokes to her clit with a precision that sent her senses reeling.
His tongue slid erotically over hers, an incredibly erotic invitation to play that she couldn’t resist.
With every slide of his tongue and every slick stroke to her clit, Sam lifted each boulder of fear and sadness that had been weighing her down for years, uncovering a part of her that had been hidden for what seemed like forever.
A part that had been inaccessible.
Shaken at the sharp vulnerability of having her passions revealed to the light, Deanna writhed in an effort to slow down the sensations bombarding her, but she’d already reached the point of no return and spiraled out of control.
Pleasure exploded in her clit, spreading outward in a ball of heat that left her breathless and clinging to Sam for support.
The strokes to her clit slowed as he lifted his head. “Shh.”
His smile of male satisfaction made her stiffen in embarrassment, but the affection and indulgence in his eyes quickly put her at ease again.
“Those cries of yours make my cock throb, but I’m very much afraid that they would scare your daughter.”
Watching her eyes, he slid his hand from the waistband of her sweatpants and gently caressed her belly on the way to her breast. “One day soon, I’d like to hear those cries without having to muffle them.”
Bending, he touched his lips to her nipple before straightening, sliding a hand to her back to lift her against him.
She smiled when he touched his lips to her hair, leaning against him when he refastened her bra. “That was incredible.”
Chuckling, Sam righted her sweater and lifted her chin, dropping another kiss on her lips. “Good. It’ll get better, especially once I learn your body.”
She blinked as he rose and settled back on the sofa beside her. “What about you?”
Wrapping an arm around her, he settled her against him. “I can wait. Now isn’t exactly the time.”
Frowning, Deanna stared up at him. “But—”
“But nothing. You’re exhausted. Why don’t you take a little nap? Carson and I are here to keep an eye on Casey.”
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