by Anna Lowe
Sarah faced the lake, closed her eyes, and stood silently for so long, he was sure she was never going to speak.
I’ll love you forever, my mate, he’d told her that night. That night and that night only, because he’d never risked the word mate with her before.
She stooped, picked up a stone, and sent it skipping across the lake. The clouds reflected in the surface scattered and overlapped, suddenly more storm than peaceful afternoon. Fitting for his mood, and for Arizona — a place that could change in the blink of an eye.
Slowly, the blue of the water and the white of the clouds settled back to their respective places again, which meant he was the only one trembling now.
“I’ll love you forever, my mate,” Sarah whispered. So quietly, he nearly missed it.
Soren stared at her reflection. Stared at the truth, in a way.
Mate, his bear hummed dreamily. Mate.
Between the Moonlust and drinks and whatever drug she might have been slipped that night, Sarah had ended up sleeping with Todd. Which was as much his fault as her own, because if he’d worked himself half into a frenzy, imagining he was with her, it would have been the same for Sarah.
Maybe fault isn’t the word, his bear said. Maybe it was destiny.
Sarah skipped another stone, and Soren stared at the wobbling reflection of the two of them standing side by side. Destiny sure seemed intent on steering them down a twisted path — but to what end? Would it ever let them come together, or would it keep them forever apart?
Chapter Thirteen
Sarah stared at the clouds, rippling across the mirror of the lake, then strode away. She didn’t look at Soren. She couldn’t look at Soren. Her vision blurred as she walked, desperate to escape all the mistakes she’d made. She didn’t get far, though, before the gravel next to her crunched and Soren took her gently by the hand.
“Over here,” he said in a voice so soft and gentle, she could have cried.
She did cry, all the way over to the bench he led her to. She cried enough to fill a third lake beside the two shining so blue and innocent under the spring sky. Not that she saw much of the scenery between her tears. Mostly, she just saw the past.
She cried and talked, and talked and cried, because now that the dam was broken, she just couldn’t stop the deluge. She started from the time Soren departed for the East Coast and babbled on and on, all the way up to the time when she’d wandered into the Quarter Moon Café, not long ago.
And the whole time, Soren held her and stroked her hair and whispered quietly in her ear.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, over and over. But how could anything be okay after all that had happened?
“Todd started coming around after you left, but I swear we never did anything except that one time. We never even thought about doing anything. He felt as bad about it as I did. I swear…”
She shook, just thinking about that crazy night. Her body might have been with Todd, but her heart and mind had been with Soren. God, how different things would be if she’d been more careful.
But somehow, she’d gotten all mixed up and let things go too far. Between the drinks she’d consumed and whatever had come over her, she hadn’t exactly been herself. Plus, Todd was so much like Soren — big, strong. Silent. Mysterious, somehow, like all the folks who lived on Soren’s side of the mountain.
Soren was special, though. His own type of enigma, with his own broody charm. He’d been her closest friend for years. God, how could she ever have let him let her go? If she’d figured anything out in the past few weeks, it was that something had forced Soren to break up with her. When his eyes locked on hers, they filled with love and laughter and hope. When they drifted out of focus, though, they grew bitter, and he’d glare at something in the past.
Soren held her without saying a word, and she wondered when he’d push her aside and stomp away in anger. But he didn’t.
“Then that night…that awful night of the fire…” Her whole body tensed at the memories. “I woke up in bed, smelling the smoke. Thank God I smelled the smoke. But the door was locked, and I couldn’t get out. And I couldn’t get to my parents because the fire was spreading fast. There were flames everywhere…”
It was all so vivid in her memory — the angry snap of the flames, the steaming hisses, the booming crack as beams collapsed — that she pulled the collar of her shirt up over her mouth as she’d done that night.
Her hands shook as she remembered the heat, the agonizing peeling sensation as the skin of her arms burned.
“I couldn’t get my parents or Ginger out. I couldn’t get them out,” she sobbed. “I couldn’t get out of the house, either. The door was barricaded. And outside, there was this circle of men, and I swear they were chanting…”
Soren went tense all over. “Purity. Purity.” His tone was flat and quiet, nothing like the dark chant she’d heard, and yet she shuddered, hearing the words again.
“But then Todd drove up—”
“Todd?” For the first time since they got to the bench, Soren’s voice was hard.
She gulped, remembering the relief that washed over her when she’d recognized Todd’s pickup. “I was about to break a window when he ran up — he ran right through the circle of men — and broke through the door.”
“Todd,” Soren repeated, all hushed now.
“He saved me, Soren. He saved me.”
She squeezed her eyes closed against the memory of Todd taking a stand when the arsonists closed in on them.
“He yelled at me to run for the car, and he fought the men to give me a chance. Jesus, did he fight.”
Soren stiffened and went dead quiet.
“I got to the car and tried to drive to him, but then they were on him…” She trailed off as the awful vision replayed in her mind. Of Todd, falling out of sight. Of the gang of men, hammering down at him with fists and bats and stones.
“I left him there,” she cried. “I left him and my parents and saved my own skin.”
“Sarah, you had no choice.”
“I should have tried something.”
She protested until Soren practically shook her. “You had no choice. Jess and Janna had to do the same thing.”
Then he was the one who was hunched and shaking, holding his head in his hands while she hugged him tighter than she ever had before.
“I should have been there,” he said. “I could have fought them…”
“Then you would have died, too. There were too many. Dozens.” She’d even imagined seeing wolves prance around the flames, but she wasn’t about to share that.
She held Soren, and Soren held her. She cried a little longer. Well, a lot longer, until the tears dried up and he patted her hair.
“Did Todd know? About the baby?”
She could have shed another gallon of tears about that, but she was all cried out by then. She shook her head and spoke hoarsely.
“He didn’t know. I didn’t even know. Not then, I didn’t. God. He didn’t know.”
It felt so unjust. So wrong that a man who’d never been anything but good to her — a friend who died for her — wouldn’t ever know about his own child. A child he hadn’t planned on any more than she had.
Then her muddled mind twitched with another thought. She sat up quickly with a hand on her stomach.
“Oh! The baby!”
“What?” Soren grabbed her arm.
“The doctor…the doctor saw something wrong.”
He blew out a breath. “There’s nothing wrong with the baby, Sarah.”
How could he know? How could he be sure?
“But…but…”
He took a deep breath and took hold of both of her hands. “My turn to talk to you.”
“About what?” She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering what he could possibly say to put her mind at ease.
He scraped a hand through his hair, mesmerizing her as sunlight shone through the golden brown. He leaned forward like a man on the cusp of a major revelation, and s
he held her breath.
A raven cawed, and her head snapped around. Not so much at the bird, but at growing aware of her surroundings again. Everything was peaceful and calm, but the hair on the back of her neck stood.
“What?” Soren asked, looking around.
She shivered. There it was again — that feeling of being watched. Of danger closing in. Not as close as she’d felt it before, when she’d grabbed the first bus she could catch and fled an invisible foe. But still, the lunatics who wanted her dead were out there, and they were hunting her down. Or maybe they were simply thinking of setting out to hunt her down, because the feeling passed a minute later.
“What is it?” Soren asked.
She stood up, taking his hand. “Nothing. Probably nothing. But let’s get home, okay?”
Soren’s brow went from being tightly knitted to smooth, and his eyes lit up when she said that.
“Home?”
She squeezed his hand. God, did they have a lot to figure out. But right now…
She managed a thin smile at the thought. “Home.”
* * *
She held his hand all through the drive back to the saloon, and that itchy, crawling feeling of being watched dissipated bit by bit. Maybe it was having the solid bulk of Soren at her side that did it. Maybe it was the feeling of coming home or of being greeted so casually by the others, as if she truly belonged. Whatever it was, her soul warmed, and the creeping feeling of being watched was gone.
The minute they returned to the saloon, Soren was called off to a meeting with Ty Hawthorne — the man whose family leased the saloon to the Voss brothers. And though her heart ached to see Soren go, his absence did present an opportunity to get back to work on the saloon accounts, because it ate at her, just imagining the mess. She spent the whole afternoon in the office, shaking her head and muttering. But she enjoyed it, too — running her hands over the armrest of Soren’s chair, just where his arms would go. Inhaling the faint traces of Soren’s oaky scent along with the leathery fragrance of the desk blotter and the scent of wood oil in the air. The office might not be a good place for Soren, but it reminded her of him.
Jessica fed her double portions at dinner, and Janna even got her to play a round of pool, which wasn’t easy with the baby in the way. But it was fun. Casual. Relaxed in a way she hadn’t felt in ages.
Soren still wasn’t back, so she squeezed in another hour of work after that, letting the scents of the office surround her with memories, just the way the sheets of her bed did when she finally called it a day. Headlights passed outside the window at intervals, and she wondered which might belong to Soren’s truck. Her heart thumped a little harder when she heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. But there was no knock at her door, no whisper. Just a pause in which she could imagine Soren lifting a hand to knock, then shaking his head and moving on.
Soren! She wanted to call out. Come to me.
The footsteps continued to the bathroom, then backtracked to his room.
She lay staring at the ceiling, telling herself to sleep. But she couldn’t. Just like so many other nights of the past few weeks, she lay there, wishing for him. Wanting him. Needing him even more desperately than before.
She ran her hands over her stomach, pretending they were his. And though it started as a soft, innocent touch, her hands started roving to places that were far from innocent. Was it the hormones of pregnancy making her horny tonight, or was it pent-up need finally coming out?
Either way, she was like a cat in heat, and she needed release, soon.
The curtains rippled quietly on a zephyr of a breeze, and she caught a glimpse of the crescent moon hanging low in the sky, just above the rooftops across the street.
She traced the same shape around her breasts and thought about what Soren had said. What had he called it? Moon…moon…
Moonlust. His words echoed in her mind. When two people who are destined to be together think of each other at exactly the same time on exactly the same night…
She smiled, remembering Soren saying the words. A man of few words could be a poet sometimes.
“Moonlust,” she whispered out loud. Maybe she should try it out sometime.
Maybe she should try it out right now.
She slid her hands over her breasts, and her nipples peaked. God, what she’d give for Soren to come prowling into her room right now. She was fed up with being lonely. She was fed up with curling up alone. Fed up with pretending she didn’t feel the same spark she’d always had for Soren.
A spark that blazed into a raging inferno until she was burning with need.
She’d always figured jacking off was for guys, but heck, if the Moonlust thing didn’t work, at least she might ease a little of the itch. So she slid her hands slowly up her torso and lifted her breasts, the way she wanted Soren to. Scooped the soft, pliant flesh and circled them this way and that. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, pretending it was him.
Yes, that was good. She teased herself the way he would, pulling her hands away, then letting them sneak back, and her body grew hotter and hotter. Her need grew wilder until she was pumping her hips in time to the motion of her hands over her breasts. She caught a nipple and twirled her fingers around it, making it harden and rise. It was like an on button, and her legs danced under the sheets as if they were tangling with his.
Soren. Soren.
“Soren.” She called to him, in her mind and in a whisper, touching herself the whole time. She closed her eyes and pictured him moving over her. He’d slide a hand between her knees and trace the inner curve up…
“Soren,” she moaned, already burning with anticipation. Anticipation and frustration, because it was just a mirage.
She imagined a knock on the door. Imagined it opening and Soren standing there, watching her touch herself. Would he like that? Or would he chuckle and tell her she was doing it wrong?
The ceiling fan turned slowly, and she pictured him entering the room. He’d step around the mattress and go to the window first. After a quick glance outside, he’d open it wider and throw the curtains back so the moon wasn’t just peeking around the corner but shining right in.
Her eyes were closed, but she tipped her head toward the window, imagining Soren standing there, fists clenched at his sides as he watched her. His erection would grow stiffer and stand higher as he watched her. She pictured that long, thick shaft filling her. Sliding in and out as the friction increased. It would build and build until he pounded into her with long, hard strokes, giving her the high she craved. He’d rock her higher and higher until she soared among the stars, then rasp her name, and he’d—
“Sarah,” Soren whispered as the door squeaked open, two steps away.
She kept perfectly still, wondering what he might do.
“Sarah,” Soren repeated in a voice husky with need.
She turned her head to the door, and there he stood. Not backlit by moonlight, but with the same clenched fists and the same jutting erection she’d imagined. The same need punctuating his voice.
She stretched her hand toward him, wondering if it was an illusion that might waver and disappear.
“Come to me, my love,” she whispered in the half darkness. “Come to me.”
Chapter Fourteen
Soren tried to keep his breath steady, but the minute she said the words, his heart leaped.
Come to me, my love.
Mate, his bear called to her. My mate.
His whole body called to her like hers called to him, and he turned his brain off. Hell, he’d turned it off a while ago when he’d lain naked in bed, tossing and turning and thinking of her. Not about the baby, not about the news Ty Hawthorne had shared with him, not about the saloon.
Her. Everything ceased to exist except her. All that was left was the burning need. Wrapping his own hands around his aching cock was no good. He needed her.
It was like all the other nights he’d dreamed of Sarah — with the need turned up by a factor of
ten or twenty or more. He could hear her whispering in his ear, imagine her touching herself.
She needed him, too. He could sense her desperate desire.
She’s right there, his bear had urged him. Right in the next room. Not in your dreams. Not in heaven. She’s right there.
Sarah was a few steps away, touching herself and wishing for him. He could feel it. See it. Sense it as if those were his hands exploring her bare flesh. So what the hell was he doing, lying in his room, all alone?
How he hadn’t tripped over his own feet in his rush to get to her door, he didn’t know, but there he was. And more importantly, there she was, beckoning to him.
“Soren,” she whispered again. “Come to me, my love.”
She loved him! She wanted him!
She always has, his bear reprimanded him. Just like we love her.
Every muscle in his body twitched for her, but when he stepped into her room and closed the door behind him, he headed for the window first. Instinct led him there to let in the cool night air, along with a little bit of moonlight. He didn’t stoop to look, but he knew the stars of the Great Bear were out there, too, shining on him.
He pushed back the curtains and looked at Sarah for a long minute, balling his hands into fists. He itched to touch her, to kiss her, to fill her, but he needed to watch, too.
“Sarah,” he whispered across the room, because he could. Because she was really there.
“Soren,” she breathed. The sheets were a mess, and he could see her knee sticking up on one side and one bare breast peeking out the other side.
God, he could admire that view forever.
Her hand rubbed over her breast, and he watched the tight nipple rise. He could practically taste it between his lips, feel the tiny bumps around it on his tongue.
Sarah started circling her breast just as his hand wrapped around his cock, and they both watched each other breathlessly.
