Every other time may have been sex, but this was making love. I was showing her my love for her, and she was receiving it openly, passionately. And I was going to show her so much more.
I relaxed and sat back on my heels, staying inside her, and let her legs drop off my shoulders. She wrapped them around my hips, and I put both hands underneath her back to pull her up. I could have lifted her with one, but I wanted to make sure she felt safe. When she was sitting on my knees, she rocked into me, and I put one hand on her ass to hold her there. I loved watching her ride me, to let her control the moment, but not now. Instead, I stood, holding her in place on me, kicking my jeans all the way off, and walked her to the edge of the water.
The water was cool but not cold, and I waded us in gently. My steps were gradual and measured. I had taken her this way many times before. It was not the first time I had lifted her from the sand and carried her to the rock without leaving the comfort of being inside her. She pressed her lips on my shoulder, kissing down as I carried her to the rock, water reaching above our hips and sending ripples out to the shore.
I laid her against the rock and dug my feet into the sand below me. The water would provide resistance as it always did, but it also provided a sense of connection with the water, the earth, and the universe. In this moment, naked and entwined, we were connected with all of it and each other. Our love encompassed it all.
Rocking into her again, my chest pressed into hers. Her ankles crossed and resting on my ass, her breath, warm and soothing, gave my neck goosebumps. Her arms were free to move now, and she wrapped them around me, one going behind my head and playing with my hair and pulling me into her. She wanted me as close to her as possible while I was inside her, and I wanted the same.
I let my forehead fall into the crook of her neck and shoulder and let both hands fill with her supple, round ass. Pulling her into me with each thrust, I felt myself nearing climax. I didn’t want to finish completely in the water though, where the resistance might keep me from being as deeply in her as I wanted. Instead, I lifted her, placing her on the rock fully and climbing on top of her.
I wrapped my arms around her and she wrapped hers around me as one leg curled around my hips and we lay on our sides. I pressed down on her ass with each thrust, forcing myself as deeply as I could go. Her voice was rising, and I knew she was going to climax too. Together, our orgasms began, and I roared, my cock throbbing as I came impossibly hard. My mind emptied along with my body and collapsed into her as she pulsed and shook around me.
We lay there for some time, curled into one another, water dripping off our bodies and sinking into the rock until we were dry in the summer heat. I kissed her again deeply, and a contended sigh passed my lips. Her fingers traced lines on my chest and then she snuggled up closer, legs wrapping around one of mine and her cheek resting on my shoulder as we watched the sky through the trees above us.
Chapter 34
Shannon
Work on Monday had me feeling like I was in a totally different world than I was last week. I was high on life and brimming with energy and excitement. All around me, music blared as I had it cranked up as loud as I could to keep up with the adrenaline pumping through me. It had me dancing as I detailed a car I just finished up servicing.
The customer did not ask for the special added attention, but I finished up the work they needed early and just felt like doing something nice. Besides, I’d always enjoyed the focus and finishing touch detailing once a car had gone through its service. I liked returning a vehicle to its owner in far better condition than it came to me. It was a bit of pride as a mechanic and earned me loyal customers over the years.
Beau was enjoying the music and high energy of the morning as he ran back and forth in front of the shop. His tail was wagging so hard it looked like it might break free at any moment. Occasionally, he barked and jumped up in the air like he was singing along. I tossed him a tennis ball, and he ran for it, bringing it back but not putting it back in my hand. Instead, he dropped down onto the drive and chewed on it before going back to his jumping.
Dad drove up toward the shop and came out with his face screwed up in a cringe. “You trying to entertain the whole neighborhood?” he shouted above the music.
I went to the radio and turned it down. “Sorry,” I told him. “I’m just in a good mood today and felt like having some music.”
“What’s got you in such high spirits?” he asked.
My face cracked into yet another smile. Since the day before, I hadn’t been able to stop grinning like a fool. As soon as I stopped and was feeling neutral, the thoughts of lying there beside the creek with Jesse flashed back through my mind and I went right back to the huge smile. There had even been a couple of moments where I started giggling at nothing but the memories. It was like all the happiness and joy I’d missed out on from all those years we weren’t together was finally getting a chance to bubble back up.
“Jesse and I are back together,” I told him. “For good this time. He said he’s been thinking about what he wants and needs out of life, and that he loves me and wants to be with me.”
“What did you tell him?” Dad asked.
I laughed. “That I never stopped loving him, of course. And that I feel the same way.”
He grinned and gathered me up into a big hug. “I’m so happy for you, honey,” he said. “I’ve been waiting a long time to see you smile like that, and I admit I’m pretty thrilled you’re smiling that way because of Jesse.”
“So am I,” I told him.
“You and Jesse will have to come over for dinner with me and your mom on one of these nights to celebrate properly. It’s been a long time since either one of us have seen Jesse and it will be good to talk to him on good terms now.”
“I would love that, Daddy,” I told him.
The back of my throat tightened off and my eyes stung unexpectedly. I was almost overwhelmed with emotion, but I was feeling emotional in the best kind of way. All the pain and sadness I felt for those years Jesse was gone out of my life had been washed away and all my hopes and dreams had finally been realized.
I would also be lying if I didn’t admit there was a bit of vindication and even a little smidge of smugness going on in my heart and mind. Over all these years, every time I talked about Jesse in a way that wasn’t angry or expressed any type of longing for him to come home, everyone in town did their best to make me feel like I was clinging to false hope. They spent all these years telling me I needed to get over him and just put it all behind me because he was never coming home and we were never going to be together. It was a trip knowing it wasn’t false all those years and now I was getting to live out the fulfillment of that hope.
Because it had always been there. Even when I tried hard not to acknowledge it. Even when I let myself be angry and bitter about him or tried to imagine a future that didn’t include him, that hope kept burning on. Deep down, I knew I couldn’t forget about Jesse Montgomery. I couldn’t forget about what we shared and the life we imagined building together.
I stayed right up on that high for the rest of the day while Dad and I worked through our long list of repairs and maintenance jobs. Business was definitely picking up, which was more than a blessing. I spent most of my days so busy I felt like my brain might stop thinking about breathing just so it had more room to handle everything else. I went home exhausted but I would far rather have it that way than the clawing for any bit of work we could find. My daddy always said unless you were sitting on your porch, it was better to hear chaos than crickets.
For the end of the day, my father padded out, leaving me to close up the shop on my own. He took Beau with him, noting the high temperature of the afternoon to convince me my pup needed to be brought somewhere to cool down. Truth was, Beau was perfectly happy, but Dad wanted some time with his granddog and Mama had probably gotten jealous he got to spend so much time with Beau the other day when she was off visiting her sister a couple of towns over.
&n
bsp; I did a few more little things and knew if it was even just a week ago, I probably would have lingered on at the shop for another few hours working. But not today. There were better things on my mind than filling up time with brake jobs and engine rebuilds.
I finished up the last of what needed to be done for the day and packed up. Taking off my coveralls, I glanced in the mirror and shook out my hair before heading for my truck. Just as I was approaching it, Roy Hayes pulled up in his cruiser. I rolled my eyes as he got out and stood in front of the car, crossing his arms over his chest.
He stood there staring at me for at least thirty seconds. He was expecting me to say something. That was the kind of man he was. He just wanted me to be the one to start the conversation, to anticipate what he was thinking and feeling and spell everything out to him. I could already tell by the look on his face what he was waiting for. He wanted an explanation, maybe even an apology. It was going to be a cold day in hell before he got either one of those from me.
Finally, he realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere just standing there and waiting for me to supplicate myself to him. He crossed his arms tighter and shifted his weight.
“A little birdie told me you and Jesse are back together,” he said.
“That’s none of your business, Roy,” I told him.
His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. “Everything in this town is my business, Shannon. And I feel like it’s my place to warn you—”
“It’s not your place,” I stopped him sharply. “Nothing that has anything to do with me is your place. I love Jesse. I have always loved Jesse. Ever since we were just kids. I know that it never sat right with you, Roy. But I can’t help that. And it’s not my job to make you feel better. Or whole. Or complete. Or fulfilled in life. Or justified. Or anything else you might be thinking. And I’m done indulging you and your passive-aggressive control issues. All right?”
“Passive-aggressive control issues?” Roy asked, a hint of mocking in his voice. “Listen to you, sounding so full of yourself.”
“Stop it, Roy. Just stop it. You need to back off. You’re not going to get anywhere storming up here trying to scare me or coming up with stories to make Jesse look bad. You and your family have been doing that for years and it’s time for it to stop. I’m done letting you act like this and just dealing with it. Leave me and Jesse the hell alone.”
Not giving him a chance to say anything else, I marched to my truck and tossed myself inside. I barely paid attention to where he was as I pulled away. It was going to be up to him to move out of my way. I was done doing anything to accommodate him. Even as I shot out of the driveway and drove away from the shop, I knew full well Roy was watching every step I took, like he always did. Like he always had. It felt good to say all those things to him, but I didn’t really believe it was going to stop him. That just wasn’t the kind of man Roy was. Just because I told him off didn’t mean he would leave me alone.
If anything, I expected everything I said to him was going to have the exact opposite effect. I was digging in my heels and he saw that as defying him. Roy Hayes, like any other Hayes, didn’t like when anyone pushed back against them. They especially didn’t like it when it came from anyone having to do with the Montgomery family. In the end, Roy was a Hayes and Jesse was a Montgomery. And maybe one day, I would have that last name, too.
That meant many things but one in particular. Being a Montgomery would mean Roy and I would inevitably become enemies—if we weren’t already.
I reached up to flip my visor down to protect my eyes from the glare of the setting sun and grinned at myself in the mirror.
“Worth it,” I said.
Chapter 35
Jesse
I had made some really difficult phone calls in my life. Some of them were frightening. Some were just plain awkward. I could still distinctly remember having to call around ICU hospitals to try to find Derek, one of my army brothers, on several occasions when he didn’t show up at home when he was supposed to, only to end up calling the jail and finding out he was there. Most recently, I had to make the phone call to my brothers back at the ranch to let them know I would be heading back to Montana and needed a place to stay.
That was the hardest phone call I ever had to make. Not just because of what it represented, the end of my military career, but also because I wondered how my brothers were going to react to it. There was the very strong possibility that they would tell me there wasn’t any room for me at the ranch. That I made my choice and they had restructured how the ranch operated and I didn’t fit in anymore.
They could very well have told me I was on my own and would need to figure out what I was going to do next. But they didn’t. No matter what was going through their minds or how they actually felt about the situation, they told me to come home and they would be waiting for me.
Right at the moment, a couple of days before when I picked up the phone to call my superior in the military, I couldn’t decide which phone call was more difficult. While I was still going back and forth between the two of them, trying to decide which was more uncomfortable and nerve-wracking, at least both were over, and both had ended better than I anticipated.
The call to my superior made my stomach flip and my heart pound so much I had to dial three times before I let it start ringing. When he answered, he sounded almost as surprised to be hearing from me as I was to be making a call. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew he was probably anticipating the call. Even if he wasn’t actually expecting me to call, what I had to say to him was no big shock. After all, he was involved in the decision to honorably discharge me due to my PTSD. Despite that, I still hadn’t been able to fully come to grips with that reality, with the truth behind my mental health, until I was able to talk with Shannon and my brothers.
Once I got to that point and was really able to admit what was going on and that I needed help getting through it all, it was time to make the phone call. Before I got on the plane to return to Montana, my superiors told me they would be there for me if I needed them. They assured me there were resources available and they would help me every step of the way. I didn’t think I would ever make that call, but it was time.
I got off the phone feeling like a weight was off my shoulders. Resources for how to follow the proper protocol to get support for my PTSD were written in front of me, and by the end of the day, I had my first appointment with a therapist set.
That was where I was sitting now, in the waiting room of the therapist’s office, waiting to be called back for that first appointment.
The blue, green, and cream color scheme was soothing, but I still felt anxious as I waited. This was the first time I’d be going to a therapist because I knew deep within me I needed help and this was how I was going to get it.
There were a few times when I was still in the service that they made me go talk to a therapist about what was going on with me. I did it only because I was under orders, but I wasn’t open to it and spoke as little as I possibly could. In my mind, the only reason I was sitting there in the office was to fulfill some requirements and assuage my superior officers. It didn’t have anything to do with actually helping me or making anything better.
It was different this time. Even with my nervousness rolling around in my stomach, I knew I was taking an important step. Sitting there in the waiting room meant I was seeking out the help and support I really needed to get through the challenges pushing down on me. Without that, I would never be able to move forward and have the type of life I wanted. The longer I sat there waiting, the more anxious I felt. It spiked when the therapist looked out from the back at me and invited me into her office. But as soon as I sat down on the large brown leather sofa and she sat across from me, the anxiety released and started dissipating.
A sense of resounding clarity settled over me. As hard as this was, I was taking the right steps. I was doing the right thing for me—and for everybody in my life who was important.
“Hi,” the therapist s
aid with a warm, friendly smile. “I’m Terry.”
“Jesse,” I told her. “Nice to meet you.”
“Jesse, can you tell me why you came here today?”
“I was recently discharged from the Army. They said I’m suffering from PTSD.”
“How does that make you feel?” she asked, then gave a short laugh. “You were probably dreading hearing that question, weren’t you?”
“Kind of,” I admitted. “But maybe I wouldn’t have thought this was really therapy if you didn’t ask me.”
“Then I guess we’re making progress,” she said. “So go ahead. What was it like for them to tell you that you have this condition and it meant you wouldn’t be able to serve in the military anymore?”
“It was rough,” I told her. “To be totally honest, I thought it was bullshit. I figured everybody who was in the military had bad memories and would sometimes have nightmares or feel jumpy. I thought it was ridiculous they said I couldn’t serve anymore because of my mental health. It made me angry. The military was my entire life. Literally. It was all I did, all I thought about. I had disconnected from my family a long time before I came back. Even though I kept in contact with my brothers, I never really intended on coming back and living on the ranch anymore. In my mind, I would be in the military for the rest of my life, or at least until I was old enough to retire, and then I would figure out what I was going to do from there.”
“So it felt like everything was taken away from you,” she said.
“There really wasn’t much left to take away from me,” I told her. “When I left Green Valley, I left my life behind. My father had Alzheimer’s and it was really bad by the time I left home. It seemed like I was the focus of all of his frustration and anger. It got really nasty between us, and I just couldn’t live like that anymore. It feels ridiculous for me to admit that now.”
His Reckless Heart (The Montgomery Boys Book 1) Page 20