Waiting for Snow

by Mari Carr

  “Apparently you don’t just use rope with those horses on the ranch.”

  Porter let a wide grin cover his face, grateful he could see Adele’s eyes as she spoke. Unbeknownst to her, he was doing his “research” right now, studying her to be sure he got every bit of information he needed before he took her to his bed.

  “You want me to tie you up, Addie?”

  “I’m only sharing the gossip I’ve heard,” she said noncommittally.

  “Coward,” he teased. “What else you got?”

  “You seem to be very good at finding alternate uses for everyday items.”

  “Like?”

  Her eyes darted lower. “Your belt, for one,” she said, her voice growing softer. There was no mistaking what he was seeing in her eyes. Adele wasn’t just rattling off rumors. She was doing some research of her own as well. She wanted to know if the stories were true. And not just because she was curious. No, Adele didn’t realize it, but she was revealing her own secret desires.

  He’d bet his entire life savings that if he unbuttoned that thick coat of hers, he’d discover her nipples were budded, tight.

  “You want me to use my belt on you, spank that sexy ass of yours, darlin’? Or maybe you want me to tie your hands with it while I bend you over my bed and take you from behind.”

  She shook her head but didn’t bother to back that lie up with a verbal denial. Instead, her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. It felt like an invitation to kiss her, but he didn’t take her up on it. Not when he was learning so much.

  “What other secrets do you know?” he asked.

  Adele’s gaze lowered, her lips pressed closed tightly.

  “Tell me,” he murmured. It was obvious she’d heard something, but she was hesitant to say it aloud. It piqued his curiosity.

  “Nothing else,” she blurted out, too quickly, too loudly.

  He sighed, disappointed. He was damn sure whatever she was refusing to say was the one thing she wanted to most. Then he figured out exactly how to get what he wanted. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

  Adele’s bright blue eyes narrowed. If there was one thing the Sparks women couldn’t resist, it was a dare.

  “Fine. According to Grace Armstrong, you have a magic tongue. And Jackie Roberson called you the Energizer Bunny.”

  He laughed, his response seeming to annoy Adele.

  “Magic tongue, huh?” he repeated. “Not going to pretend I don’t like how I’m coming out in these stories. Sound like a stud, don’t I?” he teased.

  She huffed indignantly and for a second, he thought he saw something that looked a little bit like jealousy. He liked it.

  “You’re a manwhore,” she said, turning away from him.

  He grabbed her hand, tugging her back toward him, forcing her to face him once again. “No. I’m not. I’m a forty-two-year-old man with a healthy sexual appetite. I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears choir boy, and I’m not about to apologize for my past.”

  “I’m not asking you to—”

  Porter didn’t give her a chance to finish because, while Adele wasn’t ready to admit where this thing between the two of them was going, he knew exactly where they were headed, and he didn’t want his reputation standing in the way of that.

  “I’ve taken my fair share of women to bed, Addie, but I was always a gentleman. I’ve treated my lovers with respect and—unlike a few of the ladies—I’ve never told tales. My sex life is just that—mine—and it’s private.”

  “Okay,” she started again. “I didn’t mean to insin—”

  Once more, he cut her off. “What you and I do together…that’s gonna be private too. Just between us. And believe me, darlin’, you’re getting it all. The belt, the rope, the tongue, and the bunny.”

  Her mouth fell open for a second before she managed to find her words. “You…you and I…we’re…not…”

  “Of course we are,” he corrected.

  Adele didn’t bother to finish her denial.

  He dropped her hand and placed his arm around her back so he could tuck her closer, then turned them in the direction of her house again. It was downright chilly tonight, and he started to think Adele’s wish for snow on Christmas might not be that farfetched after all.

  Adele didn’t resist his hold, so he tightened it, drawing her up against him even more. He’d spent too many fucking nights the past few months, thinking about just how perfect Miss Adele Sparks fit in his arms.

  He’d asked her to take a spin with him at a barn dance last spring, simply because Coop wanted to dance with Macie, which would leave Adele sitting alone. He’d also learned through Adele’s father TJ shortly after Christmas that Adele’s long-term boyfriend had packed up and moved to St. Louis, so he knew he wasn’t poaching on someone else’s girl.

  Porter had danced with hundreds of women in his lifetime, but there’d been something different about Adele. Something he hadn’t been able to put his finger on.

  Not immediately anyway.

  Mainly because he hadn’t bothered to think on the reason, too surprised to realize he was actually attracted to the lively, energetic woman. If he’d been asked to describe his type of woman a year ago, he definitely would have said the opposite of the Sparks sisters. He’d always thought himself partial to quieter, calmer, gentler women.

  Coop’s first wife, Sharon, sprang to mind. While he and Coop had known each other pretty much all their lives and he considered the man his brother, he’d been just as close—if not closer—to Sharon. She’d been his confidante, the one person he was comfortable talking to about his feelings and shit like that. She’d never judged him for his sexual exploits—he really had been a bit of a horn dog in his twenties and early thirties—and she’d never pressured him to find “the one” and settle down—acting like choosing a bachelor lifestyle was some sort of genetic flaw—like so many other well-meaning friends.

  He’d loved Sharon, and her death had left a big hole in his heart. One he figured he’d never fill. Until he’d grabbed Adele’s hand and pulled her to the dance floor. They hadn’t spoken a single word during the dance, but damn if it didn’t feel like they’d talked for hours by the time the song ended.

  Porter had chalked it all up to a fluke, started teasingly calling her Addie, getting a kick out of her sudden moodiness—because it let him know she hadn’t been unaffected by the dance, either—and he’d gone on with his life.

  Until Macie and Coop’s wedding in Vegas. They’d gone out to dinner at a fancy restaurant in Vegas to celebrate the nuptials. Porter had grabbed her hand for a second dance, claiming it was his duty as best man to dance with the maid of honor.

  That was when he realized whatever it was between him and Adele was no fluke. His body responded to hers with a force that shook him to his core. It was almost as if their bodies recognized each other, knew something that neither one of them had figured out yet.

  A couple weeks after that, he’d danced with her again at another wedding, and that was when Porter gave up lying to himself.

  Adele was his.

  Unfortunately, she hadn’t given up the fight, and she’d spent the better part of the last year, dating with a vengeance. Macie claimed she thought Adele was in too much of a hurry to find another boyfriend, dating in an attempt to try to get over Keith.

  Porter had watched her from afar, not worrying himself too much about it. Mainly because she’d been picking all the wrong guys and he knew it. She was a good bit younger than him and relatively inexperienced when it came to dating. She’d spent the better part of four years with Keith, and he couldn’t recall her dating anyone before him.

  So he figured she needed a chance to play the field, to see exactly what kind of men she didn’t want so it would be easier for her to see that he was the right one.

  Porter had been a little concerned when Nick entered the picture because he was a pretty decent guy with a good career and enough smarts and humor to keep a girl like Adele’s attention, unlik
e the previous long line of losers she’d accepted dates with. When he realized tonight that she’d broken things off with Nick, he’d decided then and there it was time to stake his claim. He wasn’t about to take a chance that someone else might come along who would stick.

  As they continued to walk, she softened even more against him and then—he grinned to himself—she wrapped her own arm around his back, feigning a shiver in attempt to make him think her actions were based more on being cold than wanting to get closer to him.

  When they reached the stairs to her apartment building, he released her.

  “I’ll be here Saturday at six,” he said.

  She tilted her head. “You know I haven’t said yes to that date yet, right?”

  “So say yes.”

  “What if I say no?”

  Porter cupped her cheek with one hand. “I’m still gonna be here at six.”

  “I’m not sure this is such a good idea. I like that we’re friends. This might screw that up.”

  “It’s not going to screw anything up,” he countered.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Addie,” he started.

  “I’m just saying…my dating track record sucks lately. Maybe I’m jinxed.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Seriously, Porter. I’m starting to think I was meant to live my life with cats. Or maybe consider lesbianism. Or…move to St. Louis.”

  He honed in on that last option, his eyes narrowing. Her ex had moved to St. Louis. He didn’t realize she might still be harboring some feelings for the man. Rather than acknowledge her words, he dodged the subject. “You done saying stupid shit?”

  She laughed, but he wasn’t joking. How the hell couldn’t she see her recent dating issues weren’t her fault?

  She was made to be a girlfriend.

  His girlfriend.

  Her problem was she’d been dating idiots—jerks who acted like immature, horny teenage boys—who didn’t have a clue how to be grown-ass men, let alone boyfriends.

  But he could see in her eyes, she wasn’t going to be swayed by words. Porter had been around the block enough times to know that sometimes actions spoke louder than words.

  This was one of those times.

  Bending closer, he pressed his lips to hers, finally giving in to the desire to kiss her. He’d imagined this moment more times than he cared to admit.

  It was apparent Adele had as well. She was ready for him, her arms slowly looping around his shoulders, her lips parting to allow him a taste.

  Time stood still.

  He’d heard that expression plenty of times in his life, but he’d never experienced it, never felt it happen to him.

  He took her waist in his hands, pulling her closer, as close as he could get her, wanting to feel every part of her pressed up against him, wanting her to feel exactly what kind of an impact their kiss had on him.

  Adele pulled away first, not because she wanted to stop but to breathe in some much-needed air.

  Regardless, he wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

  Porter ran his lips over the soft skin of her cheek, cold from the chilly night air. Then he nuzzled his nose against her neck, nipped at her earlobe. His cock had been at half-mast ever since he’d walked into the restaurant tonight and seen her standing behind the counter.

  Now, it was thick, throbbing, hard. Leaving here tonight was going to be one of the hardest things he’d ever do, but he was going to. While he knew what he wanted from Adele, knew exactly where he intended for this thing between them to lead, she was struggling to catch up, to believe it.

  More than that, there were still things—those secrets—they needed to talk about before he took her to his bed.

  Secrets he was going to make damn sure she understood didn’t change anything between them.

  “You got a date for the holiday social?” he murmured against her neck.

  Maris hosted a huge celebration the week before Christmas each year that was attended by pretty much everybody in town.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “You do now.”

  She laughed softly. “Don’t you want to see how the first date goes?”

  “So you’re saying yes to the date?”

  Adele was adorable as she huffed, well aware he’d tricked her into agreeing to go out with him. “Dammit. I guess so.”

  He lifted his head and captured her gaze. “Good.”

  Frown lines marred her forehead and he wondered what was going through her head. There was no denying she was as turned on by the kiss they’d just shared as he was.

  For a second, he thought she was going to refuse his invitation. Then, mercifully, she simply shrugged and said, “We can wait to decide about the holiday social until after Saturday.”

  Porter started to insist, but he decided to pull back for now. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind Adele was going to be on his arm at that social, but he had a couple weeks to convince her.

  “So…I guess I’ll see you Saturday,” she said, taking a step away from him.

  He missed the heat from her body the second she was gone, but he didn’t seek to pull her in his arms again because he knew if he did, he wouldn’t let her go.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thursday night’s dinner special is my favorite. Big fan of y’all’s ribs,” he said, knowing there was no way he was going to last three days without seeing her. Besides, if Macie was still sick, Adele would be closing up the restaurant again, and he wasn’t going to let her do that alone.

  Adele shook her head, though she was grinning. “Okay. Tomorrow. For ribs.”

  He waited as she’d let herself into her building, then he stood there a moment longer, until he saw her turn on the light in her living room and he knew she was in for the night.

  Porter started back to the restaurant where his truck was parked, fighting like the devil not to turn around.

  Now that he’d turned the corner, he had a much clearer view of what lay ahead.

  And it looked damn fine.

  He’d just climbed into his truck when his phone pinged, a text lighting up the screen.

  Thanks for helping me with Nick.

  Porter sat there and stared at the screen a second, delighted by Adele’s text.

  You’re welcome, he replied after a moment. And then…because he couldn’t resist, he added the word, girlfriend.

  He chuckled when she sent back the eye-rolling emoji along with Good night, PORTER.

  She’d capped his name, as if that belied the fact he was indeed her boyfriend.

  If Porter had his way, starting Saturday, this would be the last time he’d have to text the words, Night, Addie. Sleep well, rather than whispering them to her as he tucked his pretty little redhead against his chest, falling asleep with her in his arms.

  Chapter 3

  “Cruisers is hopping tonight,” Adele said as she and Porter walked into the crowded bar.

  Porter raised his hand, pointing toward a spot near the back. “I think I see an empty booth over there. Come on.”

  “God bless your height. I can’t even see the booths, thanks to all these damn people.”

  Porter chuckled, then grasped her hand, leading the way. Thanks to not only his height but his width, he was able to cut a swath through the crowd so she didn’t get crushed.

  They sat down just as the waitress finished wiping off the table. “Good timing, Port,” Belinda, the waitress said. “Last group just left. What can I get y’all?”

  Porter looked at her. “Couple of PBRs sound good?”

  Adele nodded. “Cold beer sounds great. It’s hot in here.”

  “Yeah. We got a popular band playing tonight. They always bring in a big crowd. They’re on a break right now, but that should be over soon.” Belinda smiled. “Hope y’all came ready to dance.”

  Adele glanced in Porter’s direction, recalling exactly how deadly dancing with Porter was to her libido.

  “I got a feeling Addie will let me take h
er for a spin or two,” he said to Belinda, though his eyes were locked with Adele’s.

  “I hate to commit this early. Haven’t had a chance to look around to see if I might get a better offer,” she teased, pretending to play hard to get.

  The truth was…there was definitely not going to be a better offer, and Porter could take her for a spin on more than the dance floor.

  Tonight had been—hands down—the best date she’d been on in forever. Maybe ever.

  Porter had picked her up promptly at six, opening the passenger side door to his truck for her and then even reaching over to snap her seat belt in place. She’d wanted to tell him she was perfectly capable of fastening it herself, but she’d been too turned on by the sheer…hmmm…she didn’t think dominance was the word as much as protective. Either way, the simple gesture had been hot as hell.

  She was an independent woman who sure as shit didn’t need a guy taking care of her or protecting her, but damn if it didn’t push a few dozen fuck-me-now buttons just the same.

  A few of the guys she’d dated after breaking things off with Keith, and prior to Nick, had been macho, arrogant assholes, who hadn’t opened doors and felt like she “owed them” simply because they’d paid for dinner. None of those jerks had gotten a second date—not that they’d asked—when she informed them that she wasn’t putting out just because they’d bought her a freaking burger.

  She’d had several days to contemplate her date with Porter, and she was surprised to realize she wasn’t suffering the usual pre-date jitters that she usually experienced the first time she went out with a guy. She didn’t have to worry about what they would talk about, and she knew whatever she wore would be just fine because he wasn’t hung up on clothes or appearances. He’d even called her ass sexy the other night, something she was definitely sure it wasn’t.

  Or at least, she’d never considered it sexy until Porter said it.

  They’d had a great time at dinner, laughing and talking about all the people they knew in common, reminiscing over days past. Porter loved Maris every bit as much as she did. Hell, maybe more. It had been a fun walk down memory lane, and Porter—given the fact he was older—even managed to tell her some stories she’d never heard before.