by Jessie Evans
“I want a rematch,” he said, breathing hard as he climbed up beside her a few moments later.
She shook her head, eyes closed as she grinned up at the blue sky. “Nope. No rematches. I won fair and square.”
“Fair and square?” He grunted, rolling on his back. “Is that what you call it?”
“Fair and square enough,” she said, giggling. “Better start making calls to change that plane flight. I intend to keep you on the dance floor until after midnight.”
“You’re assuming I can dance,” he said, studying her face, amazed that anyone could look so beautiful covered in mud.
“Oh, you can dance.” She turned her head, eyes opening. “I can tell.”
“How can you tell?” He held her gaze, chest tightening as that electric, peaceful, exhilarating feeling he’d only felt when in the presence of this woman swelled inside him.
“Because of this.” She rolled over, propping her arms on his chest and bringing her lips to his. The moment their mouths touched, heat ignited low in his body and a joyful “hell yes,” vibrated through his bones. A low groan of approval rumbled at the back of his throat as he gripped her muddy ponytail in his hand and pulled her closer, fusing their lips together. Her tongue stroked against his, and her legs shifted until she was lying on top of him, strong thighs straddling his waist.
She rocked against where he was hard and only getting harder, and he couldn’t resist the urge to grip her ass in his hands and encourage her to keep moving, keep taking what she needed, keep riding him through his clothes until they were both too worked up to resist the urge to take this further. To take it all the way, until her soft skin was bared to his mouth and his hands and he discovered what it felt like to be joined with this woman who fascinated him without even trying.
But that’s probably the way it was supposed to be, he guessed. When you met the one who was meant for you, neither of you had to try too hard. Falling was easy. It was trying to hold back, to think straight, to remember that the world and human lives are complicated even if love isn’t that was difficult.
“We should stop,” Yasmin said in between kisses. “Someone could see us.”
“They could,” he said, cupping her breast through her shirt and rubbing his thumb across her pebbled nipple, loving the way her breath rushed across his lips in response. “I promised myself I wouldn’t touch you like this until dating was a sure thing, but I can’t control myself.”
“You feel so good.” She circled her hips, making him ache to be free of his shorts. “I want you to touch me everywhere. Everywhere all at once.”
“I want to touch you everywhere.” He cupped both of her breasts in his hands, rolling her nipples between his fingers. “I want to feel you without any clothes or mud. Nothing but you and me.”
“Come back to my place,” she said, breath coming faster.
“Did you mean what you said?” he asked, the mention of her place jogging his lust-addled thoughts. “About me moving in?”
“I guess you’ll never know,” she teased, her warm hand slipping beneath his shirt, sending more heat racing across his skin. “Since you didn’t win the race.”
He gripped her ponytail again as he pulled away, putting enough distance between them that he could look up into her amber eyes. “Tell me. I need to know if you’re as into this as I am.”
“I thought we were going to wait until Saturday to decide.” Her lips parted as her gaze scanned his face.
“Looks like I won’t be leaving on Sunday,” he said, pushing on before he could second guess his instincts. “So I was thinking…maybe I shouldn’t leave at all. I can run my business from anywhere, and I’ve got a personal assistant in San Francisco who can pack up my condo and find someone to sublet my place.”
She pressed her lips together and the hand that had come to rest on his stomach eased away. “If I say go for it, does that mean the sample is off the table?”
His brow furrowed, but it was too hard to form a coherent thought. “I don’t know,” he said, “I find it hard to think straight when you’re on top of me.”
Yasmin smiled. “Good to know.”
“Besides, I asked you first.” He let his hands play down her back to cup her bottom lightly in his palms. “Were you serious about me moving in with you?”
“I plead the fifth,” she said, rolling off of him.
“Come on.” He sat up, wincing as his painfully erect cock got caught in an especially damp, muddy fold of his boxer briefs. “Throw me a bone, North.”
“I’ll do more than throw you a bone. I’ll give you an answer, but not until Saturday. That was the bargain and I’m sticking to it.” She stood, tugging her muddy shirt away from her back. “Besides, I make it a point never to make big decisions while covered in mud. I should get back to the house and clean up.”
He came to his feet with a sigh, a part of him wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. If he had, they might both be on their way back to her place to do something a lot more fun than shower.
“So what time should I expect you?” she asked, as they started back toward the start of the course where they’d parked their cars.
He shook his head. “Expect me…?”
“For dinner,” she said. “I know you lost, but I feel bad dangling delicious Chinese-Nebraskan food in front of you and then leaving you to fend for yourself for dinner. Why don’t you come over around six? We can take a walk around the farm while the veggies are cooking and then eat on the deck. I don’t have any patio furniture yet, but we could spread a blanket on the boards and picnic.”
“Sounds good,” he said, ridiculously glad this wasn’t goodbye for the day. “Anything you want me to bring?”
“Just yourself. And anything you like to drink with Chinese-Nebraskan food. I have a couple beers, water, and half a bottle of leftover Pinot Grigio in the fridge that I’m happy to share. I would buy more, but I’m avoiding buying any more alcohol. Just in case.”
Just in case she was to get pregnant, he realized, the thought no longer as crazy as it was even a couple of days ago. He couldn’t see himself releasing the sperm sample, but he could imagine a time in the not too distant future when he and Yasmin might decide to make a baby the old-fashioned way.
That in itself was probably crazy, but he was too crazy about this woman to care.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Yasmin
Homemade, hand-pulled noodles were her mother’s specialty. Sada could whip up a batch of noodles without glancing at a recipe book while doing ten other things at the same time. But for Yasmin, the process required more concentration, a fact she was grateful for as she spent the second half of her afternoon mixing ingredients and trying not to think about Noah’s question.
When she’d made the offer to move in, all she’d been thinking about was throwing him off his center long enough for her to get a head start.
But now…
Well, it kind of made a crazy sort of sense. They would certainly find out whether they were compatible much faster if they were living together.
And what do you think Mom and Dad will say about that? A complete stranger that you met while hunting for a sperm donor moving into the house with you?
“Better than a hitchhiker,” Yasmin mumbled to herself as she rolled out her dough. Sada had recommended she find someone to knock her up the old-fashioned way, but if Noah moved in it wouldn’t be about making a baby. It would be about finding out if the two of them had what it took to become a couple.
The thought shouldn’t be scarier than the thought of getting pregnant with her first child, but it was. So she concentrated on running her dough through the pasta machine and did her best not to think of the future. Until the background check came back, she had no idea if it was safe to cohabitate with Noah anyway, so there was no reason to put any more stress on her already stressed out brain.
Seriously? If you think that background check is going to prove Noah is anything but a model citizen, you’re even crazier than you l
ook.
“And you look pretty crazy,” she muttered to her reflection in the microwave as she finished with the noodles and tossed all the other ingredients into the crockpot to simmer for an hour.
She’d thrown on fresh workout clothes after her shower—not wanting to worry about getting flour all over the dress she planned to wear tonight—paired with her “Shitake Happens” apron and a pair of blue socks with treads on the bottom that kept her from slipping on the polished wooden floor. She looked like a homeless woman who had been raiding the donation bin, and she only had another twenty minutes before Noah was due to arrive.
Tossing her apron on the hook near the stove, she dashed up the stairs to her childhood bedroom—she wasn’t ready to move into her mom and dad’s old room on the ground floor yet—and set about transforming into a butterfly. It took a little longer than usual to get her eyeliner straight, but when she descended the stairs thirty minutes later, there was still no sign of Noah. She was getting ready to call him to see if he needed directions after all when she caught a creaking sound coming from the direction of the porch.
She peered out the window above the sink to see Noah kneeling next to a metal chair, screwing the top to the base.
“What have you done?” she asked, heart leaping when he turned to smile at her.
“You said you didn’t have patio furniture,” he said. “I figured it would be a good housewarming present. Do you like?”
“I love!” She hurried through the door out onto the porch, taking in the metal table with the latticework on the top and four rocker chairs. “But you shouldn’t have done this. It’s too much.”
“It’s just enough.” He finished with the last chair and slid it into place. “And as much as I love eating on the ground, I felt like I needed a seat tonight. I think I might have pulled something in my hamstring this afternoon. I’m not used to going from zero to a mad sprint. I usually warm up a little first.”
She smiled guiltily. “Sorry about that. When it comes to racing, I have no common sense. I think about how to win and consider the other factors never.”
“I could tell. You’ve got a competitive streak.”
“Guilty,” she said, watching as he wiped his hands on his thighs, drawing her attention to how delicious he looked in faded blue jeans and a white polo that brought out the golden color of his skin. The man was hot as hell even covered in mud, but right now he was flat out stunning. He looked good enough to eat, and she had a feeling noodles wouldn’t be the only thing she’d be devouring before the night was through.
The thought made a ribbon of heat thread through her core.
“We can skip the walk around the property if you want,” she said. “If you’re suffering.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s just a little pulled muscle. I want the full tour.” He turned, gazing out over the fields stretching away from the house. “This is a beautiful place. Have you parents always lived here?”
She nodded as she led the way down the steps into the back yard. “Ever since they were married. They met while they were both getting their agriculture degrees at the University of Nebraska and moved back here to take over the farm when they graduated. My dad’s parents had died a few years before and left the place to him. It’s been in the family for generations.”
“That must be nice,” he said, pulling in a deep breath. “To have such a sense of place. My parents moved around a lot when I was a kid. Always in the Bay Area, but often enough that no one house or neighborhood ever felt completely like home.”
“Honestly, Sapphire Falls never felt like home when I was younger.” She started across the grass, down the tree-lined path leading between the fields. “I think I was born itching to get out of this town.”
He frowned. “Really? Why?”
She shrugged. “It was so small, and I thought I needed a bigger sandbox to be happy. But as time passed I realized that there was something to be said for a place where people know your name, your history. It’s comforting to be part of something bigger than yourself, even if it’s just a little corner of Nebraska. And the people here are some of the nicest in the world.”
“I agree, I’ve never—” He broke off, his stomach rumbling loud enough to be heard over the wind whistling through the trees above them.
Yasmin laughed. “Maybe we should cut the tour short and head back to the kitchen? I’ve got some leftover spring rolls you can munch on while I boil the noodles.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” he said. “I was so busy hunting patio furniture I missed second lunch.”
“Second lunch?” She arched a brow.
“It’s like second breakfast, but it happens between lunch and dinner.” His boyish grin was completely charming. “Fast metabolism.”
“Lucky. Mine slows down if I even think about…” Her words trailed off, sticking in her throat as the deck, and the surprise waiting at the base of it, came back into view.
She cursed, shaking her head in disbelief.
“What?” He followed her gaze, tensing as he spotted the threat. “Is that—”
“Sampson the third, out of his pen again,” she confirmed, bracing herself to run. But so far it looked like the rooster had yet to spot them. “And it looks like he won top cock at the festival. See the blue ribbon around his neck?”
“So he’s come to show off, is that it? Engage in some sibling rivalry? Rub it in that he won a prize at the festival and you didn’t?”
She stifled a laugh. “Don’t. If I laugh, he’ll hear, and we’ll never get inside to our dinner. He’s perfectly capable of blocking all entrances.”
Noah stood up straighter, rolling his broad shoulders back. “Oh, hell no. That bastard isn’t keeping me from my Chinese-Nebraskan food. I’ve been looking forward to that shit all day. This is going down. I’ll take him out ninja style.”
She snorted and the rooster’s head cocked in their direction. As soon as he spotted Yasmin, his breast feathers puffed up and a low, menacing gurgle sounded from his throat. “Shit,” she hissed. “Now you’ve done it, ninja style. I haven’t had a chance to heal from my last run in with him yet.”
“He’s not going to touch you,” Noah said, fingers wrapping around her upper arms as he moved her behind him. “I’m taking this for the team. You just head for the back steps. I’ll keep him away from you.”
“But don’t hurt him,” she said, heart beating faster as they crept cautiously forward, each step mirrored by Sampson, who had clearly entered stalking-his-prey mode. “If you do, my mother will never forgive you.”
“Is this the face of a man who would hurt a rooster?”
She glanced up at him, but before she could ask what the face of a man who would hurt a rooster looked like, Sampson charged.
“Go, go, go!” Noah yelled flapping his arms as he turned to meet the rooster head on. With a squeal, Yasmin made a break for the back deck. She sprinted hard, taking the steps two at a time, and dashed into the kitchen, grabbing the first non-lethal weapon she could get her hands on.
Back out on the deck, she took aim with a granny smith apple and let it fly, hitting the ground in front of Sampson just as he lashed out, nearly taking a chunk out of Noah’s knee.
“Now, Riley!” she shouted. “Run for the deck; I’ve got you covered.”
Noah turned and ran, Sampson in hot pursuit, but a few more carefully aimed apples and oranges kept Sampson out of pecking distance. Thankfully, just as she ran out of fruit basket, the stairs slowed the rooster down, giving her and Noah time to escape into the kitchen.
“Jesus,” he said, breath coming in harsh gasps. “That’s it. We’re moving to the other side of town. I looked at a ranch house with ten acres today. Already fully fenced, but we can add an electrified option. I’m not going to spend my life running from a rooster.”
Sampson, who had arrived on the deck, pecked the glass window at the bottom of the door in response.
Yasmin burst into giddy, relieved laughter. Noa
h tried to hold out, but soon he was laughing as hard as she was until they were both leaning against the kitchen table for help remaining upright.
“You should have seen your face,” she said, panting for breath. “You were so serious. Like you were facing down a wild bull.”
“You should have seen your face,” he countered. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
“He’s scarier than a ghost. Ghosts don’t have beaks or claws.”
“Or the heart of a killer,” Noah said, making her break out into giggles all over again.
“Stone cold,” she gasped. “Stone cold killer. If he were bigger, we’d both be dead right now.”
“So dead,” he concurred, pulling her into his arms until their laughter-sore bellies were pressed tight together and suddenly Yasmin wasn’t in the mood to laugh anymore.
“Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “For being my hero.”
“Anytime, baby,” he said, eyes glittering with humor and something hotter that made her insides feel soft and gooey. “Anytime.”
And then he kissed her, and she knew the moment their lips touched that this time they wouldn’t be parting until they’d gotten as close as two people could get. They stumbled into the living room, doing their best to devour each other from the mouth down as their hands roamed freely and their pulses sped and magic filled the little farmhouse at the end of the lane.
Yasmin’s dress floated over her head seemingly of its own accord and then Noah’s warm palms were on her breasts and she’d never been so glad she hadn’t bothered with a bra.
“Your hands should stay right there all the time,” she said as he cupped her in his hands, teasing her nipples until things low in her body spun tight.
“I agree,” he said, stripping his shirt off and coming back to her, his skin warm against hers as they fell onto the couch. “We should be naked together all the time. I can already tell it’s going to be my new favorite thing.”
“Mine too.” She sighed against his lips. “God, Noah, don’t ever stop touching me. Promise, you won’t.”