by Gina Wilkins
He wasn’t in a habit of explaining himself in so much detail. His associates in California had learned not to ask questions, just to accept whatever he chose to share with them.
Rachel wasn’t going to be so easily satisfied.
She jerked her hand away from his and jabbed him with her finger again. “And what are you protecting me from this time?”
“Everything happened so fast this past week. I was giving you time to think. Time to decide if you want this to go any farther. I was leaving you my number,” he reminded her.
“In other words, you decided again what was best for me, just as you did fifteen years ago. Well, let me tell you, Lucas McBride, I didn’t need you making decisions for me then, and I certainly don’t now.”
“I...”
She gave him no chance to speak. “If you want to leave because you aren’t interested in a serious relationship with me, then go. I survived before, I will again. But I don’t think that’s what you want at all. I think you want to be with me. I think you want to be here to see your sister married. I think you’re just too damned scared of real, honest, overwhelming emotion. I think you’ve stopped believing in lifetime commitment, because it’s not something you’ve experienced before. Your mother died, your stepmother ran off, your father withdrew, the town turned against you... and I hung up on you. And those hurts have left you an emotional coward.”
“Rachel...” His voice was husky. He felt as if he were bleeding from a dozen small wounds, all inflicted by words that rang painfully true.
“I’m sorry for hurting you, Lucas. I’m sorry I was too young and naive and overwhelmed by events to trust you as I should have. You hurt me, too, but I’ve gotten past it. I’m ready to go on from here. But this time, you’re going to have to take a risk. You’re going to have to tell me how you feel and what you want. You’re going to have to swallow some of that McBride stubbornness and pride and...”
As fascinating as he’d found her tirade, as beautiful as she looked with fire in her dark eyes and a flush of determination on her face, he knew it was his turn to speak. “I love you, Rachel.”
She closed her mouth and stared at him narrowly. “What did you say?”
“I love you. I have since I was a stupid, hot-tempered kid. I’ve never stopped. Never.”
It was as close to baring his soul as Lucas knew how to do.
She closed her eyes for a moment, as if in relief. He noticed her hand was trembling when she reached beneath her collar and drew out a thin gold chain. A gold heart-shaped charm dangled from her hand. “You made me a promise when you gave me this,” she said. “Do you remember what it was?”
The sight of the charm made him swallow hard. Oh, yes, he remembered giving it to her. He remembered the look on her face when she’d opened it. The love in her eyes.
If he’d known Lizzie had been going around saying he’d given her one, too, he’d have...
But he couldn’t think about what he should have done. Or start second-guessing the choices he had made. He could drive himself crazy that way. “I remember.”
“You said we would be married when I finished college and you had a secure income from a stable job. Well, I finished college eleven years ago. And rumor has it you’ve got a good job. Are you a man who reneges on his promises, Lucas McBride?” she challenged him, her cheeks flushed, her gaze level.
Something tight and painful eased inside him. He was still a bit worried that things were happening too fast, that Rachel would change her mind once she’d had time to think—but he would be the world’s biggest fool to walk away from her again when she had done everything but order him to stay. Her courage humbled him—and showed him how right she’d been when she’d called him an emotional coward.
“Not anymore,” he answered her, holding out his arms.
She walked into them, wrapping her own tightly around him. “I love you, Lucas. I loved you when I was eighteen, and I’ve fallen in love with you all over again at thirty-three.”
He held her tightly, his face buried in her hair. “Your family is going to hate this. Your mother...”
“Will have to get used to it,” she broke in firmly. “This is my choice, not hers.”
“We can take it slow, if you want,” he felt compelled to say, giving her one last out. “Give you time to make absolutely sure...”
“Lucas.” She looked up at him, her mouth inches from his. “Do you need more time?”
“Hell, no,” he muttered, his tone heartfelt. “If it was up to me, I’d marry you right now. Right here. Never let you out of my sight again. But...”
“Then shut up and kiss me,” she murmured, reaching up to tug his head down to hers.
He smiled ruefully against her lips. “You’ve become a bossy woman, Rachel Jennings.” He wasn’t complaining.
“Yes. I figure I have to be to keep up with you.”
“You could be right,” he conceded. And then he allowed himself to kiss her, knowing he would be lost when he did.
He was right. The first brush of her lips against his made his head spin. And when she moved closer to him, bringing their bodies in full contact through their bulky winter clothing, he lost all remnants of self-control.
Crushing her mouth beneath his, he twisted, holding her against the hard rock wall. He reached between them, fumbling with her jacket, and with the buttons of the heavy brushed-cotton shirt she wore beneath it. He spread the garments open, baring her skin to his searching hands. Savoring her softness, he slid his palms up her sides and cupped her breasts through the lace of her bra.
Rachel groaned into his mouth, her hips pressing into his, against the erection that strained against his zipper. After spending the morning trying to be noble, telling himself there was a chance he wouldn’t see her again, the sheer relief of having her with him now went straight to his heart—and to his groin. He wanted her as he couldn’t remember ever wanting before.
Rachel’s hands were busy, pushing his leather jacket aside, fumbling with the buttons of his denim shirt. She crowded against him, and her skin felt warm against his. He tugged her bra out of the way, flattening her soft, firm breasts against his chest.
They moaned in unison.
Snaps were unfastened, zippers lowered. Lucas reached inside her jeans and cupped her bottom, lifting her against him. Their breathing was ragged, their movements frantic. Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging tightly.
For one brief, lucid moment, Lucas became aware of their surroundings. The chill in the air. The roughness of the rock behind Rachel’s back. “You can’t be comfortable,” he murmured, lowering her tenderly to her feet. Trying so damned hard to rein in his hunger. “We should wait. Find a bed...”
“Next time,” she whispered, moving sinuously against him. “I want you, Lucas. Love me.”
She reached down to take him in her hand. His knees almost buckled. Next time, he told himself as he lifted her against the wall again, he would give her romance. Flowers, candlelight, a soft bed. This time he could only give her himself.
Rachel seemed to have no complaints when he thrust deeply, heavily into her. Her soft, choked cry sounded pleased, excited—and maybe a little triumphant.
Lucas knew in that moment that he had finally come home.
Epilogue
LUCAS TUGGED restlessly at the too-tight collar of his tuxedo. “I think I’m choking.”
“When’s the last time you wore a tie?” Emily asked, smiling up at him from within the layers of white net that framed her face.
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” he answered candidly.
“Well, you look great. So stop complaining and try to enjoy it.”
Enjoy it? Not likely. Lucas’s stomach was knotted as he and Emily waited in the church vestibule for their cue to enter. Wade and his best man, proud-looking Clay, and a groomsman who was one of Wade’s deputies, waited at the altar. The bridesmaids—Savannah and Tara—had just gone in, and it would be Lucas and Emily’s turn an
y minute now.
How did he let himself get talked into staying for this wedding, anyway—not to mention giving the bride away? But even as the question crossed his mind, he knew the answer. Rachel and Emily had joined forces; Lucas hadn’t stood a chance against them.
With a sinking feeling, he heard the bridal march begin, signaling that it was time. He drew a deep breath, hoping everything would go well. This was his sister’s wedding day. He would hate for anything to spoil it—especially anything having to do with him.
“I love you, Lucas,” Emily said, smiling up at him with stars in her beautiful blue eyes.
He bent his head to kiss her cheek. “I love you, too, little sister. Now, let’s go get you married.”
He shouldn’t have worried. Emily was so radiantly beautiful in her wedding finery that all eyes turned immediately to her when he walked with her into the church. He knew there were those who were eagerly watching him, as well. But the gawking wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d expected.
He delivered Emily safely to her groom, then, with a sigh of relief, took his seat on the pew beside Rachel.
She reached out to take his hand, probably fueling the gossip that would surely follow the wedding. Lucas didn’t care. He squeezed her fingers, anticipating his own upcoming wedding. He and Rachel would be married quietly, with only their families around them. Her mother would be there, as well—dressed in black, perhaps, he thought wryly, but there.
Now that Sam Jennings had finally confessed to everything—the murders of Al and Nadine, as well as the death of his nephew, Roger—which, he continued to insist, had been an accident and ultimately Lucas’s fault—and the break-in at Emily’s house, Jane had conceded that Lucas was innocent and had daringly saved her daughter’s life. She didn’t have to like it that Rachel planned to marry a McBride, but she wasn’t going to cause trouble.
Lucas would be taking his bride to California, where her expertise with business accounting would be a valuable asset to Rebel Software.
“Now,” Rachel whispered. “Aren’t you glad you stayed?”
He looked at the altar, where Emily and Wade repeated their vows while Clay stood beaming at his father’s side and newlyweds Savannah and Tara looked on in misty-eyed approval. And then he looked at Rachel, who smiled at him with such acceptance and contentment that his heart swelled.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I’m very glad I stayed.”
Oblivious to the onlookers, and no longer concerned with the gossip, Lucas leaned over to kiss Rachel. Their lips met at the same time his little sister kissed her new husband at the front of the church.
The scandalous McBrides had found everything they’d been looking for, right here in their little hometown.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6443-4
THE REBELS RETURN
Copyright © 1998 by Gina Wilkins.
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