Restless Heart

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Restless Heart Page 16

by Rhonda Laurel


  It seemed like an eternity not a few days since she’d seen him. There felt like something missing in her life with him being out of town. Life went on but she knew Austin wasn’t there in Harper’s Grove on his ranch. But it did give her some time to digest all that had happened between them the last few weeks. She was excited about the possibilities of their budding relationship and she hoped he felt the same way too. By the number of times he’d called her she thought it was a good sign. It was nice hearing his voice right before she went to bed.

  She waved at the guard as she drove through the gates of the ranch, happy she didn’t have to stop anymore. They knew her and ushered her through without a second thought. She continued on to the main stable buildings where he said he’d be and parked. She got out of the car and began a quick, spirited pace in search of him until she caught herself. Her heart was thudding out of her chest at the idea of seeing him again. She couldn’t help it. She was downright giddy. She stopped and took a breath. Get a grip girl, she told herself.

  But she remained hopeful she could keep her composure until she saw Austin. He was walking down the corridor, looking handsome as ever in a work shirt and a pair of jeans. He flashed a smile and her heart started thudding again. She’d missed that wonderful smile, the way he strutted with an easy confidence and that hat. A man never looked sexier in a cowboy hat. And those expressive eyes that seemed to be talking to her even when he was silent. They were filled with promises of passionate things to come.

  He met her halfway, pulled her into his arms dispensed the formalities and planted a toe-curling kiss on her.

  “Hey.” Austin said when they broke apart.

  “Hey, yourself. I guess the ride is out of the question.” She bit her lip.

  “You sound disappointed.” He raised an eyebrow.

  “You may have made me a horse lover again.”

  “I knew you’d come around. You look like a country girl for sure.”

  “Yeah?” She looked down at herself.

  “You are tough enough to handle whatever comes your way.”

  “What do you want to do? Now that riding is out of the question.” Well one kind of riding anyway. The way Austin was looking at her, she was ready to don a pair of chaps and ride him like a rough buck.

  “We can still have a quiet dinner at my house,” he drawled. “And after that, we’ll wing it.”

  She got into her car and followed him as he rode down the path. The house was set further back into the property and a good distance away from the commercial buildings, with a big yard surrounded by paddock-style wood fencing. The house was private, in an area away from the trails that would not be disturbed by riders. It was a large dwelling for one man.

  The sky was getting darker by the minute. They pulled up as the raindrops began to fall.

  “Wow. This place is huge.” She got out of her car and put her purse on her shoulder.

  “I like my space.” He grabbed the groceries bags from her back seat.

  “How many bedrooms?”

  “Five.” They made their way up the path, walking side by side. He opened the door and deactivated the alarm.

  As soon as Austin closed the door, the sound of thunder boomed around the house.

  He glanced out the window as the rain intensified. “We made it just in time.”

  “Thank goodness.” She gave a quick glance at her hair in the big oval mirror above the hallway table. The rain always gave her a terrible case of the frizzies. But she looked good.

  “We’ll get these bags unpacked, and then I’ll show you around.”

  “If you don’t mind I’d like to eat first. I was buzzing around all day, and I’d like to get started.”

  “I want to change first before we get started,” he said. “I don’t exactly look presentable.”

  She smiled. “You look good to me. I’m cooking tonight so you can take your time.”

  “We said we’d do this right. Give me twenty minutes.” He looked around. “Can I get you anything?”

  She looked around. “I’ll need that fry pan. I can’t reach it, even in these shoes. Oh and that one over there too.”

  He reached up and retrieved the pots. She gave him a curious glance when he went into the pantry and retrieved an apron for her. She stood absolutely still when he stepped right behind her and began to tie it around her waist. He took his time tying a bow, not that she had a problem with that. She could feel the heat pulsing off his body and it was getting mighty hot in the kitchen. The chemistry brewing between them, coupled with the sound of the rain, made for a steamy combination.

  “There you go.” He turned her around to face him. “Now your pretty outfit won’t get dirty.”

  “Thanks.” She parted her lips when he moved in closer. This kiss was more intense than the last one they’d shared. It was a prelude to something. When they finally parted, she found herself gasping for air but wanting more. No, they were going to slow down and do this right. And barring a camera crew popping out of his pantry, this time there would be nothing to stop them. She gently pushed him away. “Now go get changed. We have a first date to get right the second time around.”

  “Yes ma’am.” He kissed her quickly then walked out of the kitchen.

  She got to work unpacking the bags. She’d gone to the fish market this afternoon, and everything looked so fresh, but the red snapper spoke to her. After a quick Internet search on her phone, she found a perfect recipe for pan-fried red snapper with polenta and a side of roasted asparagus. She turned the oven on to preheat, then went to trimming the asparagus. She perused the cabinets looking for spices and she found a couple of shelves filled with a cornucopia of choices.

  A few minutes later, music wafted into the room. It was soft, mellow, and undeniably country music. It sounded like Tate McGill. She was a big fan of his, and it was no surprise Austin would listen to his famous friend’s music. She remembered seeing a photo of the two of them in his office at the stables. He knew a lot of notable people, yet he seemed unfazed by it all. He, like her, had grown up in a world of giants. Be they titans of industry or Hollywood, it was sometimes surreal to be around rich and famous people. Austin understood that, and she was grateful he didn’t have stars in his eyes like Levi did whenever he met one of her mother’s celebrity friends.

  Soon she had a rhythm going around the spacious kitchen with its state-of-the-art appliances. The fridge had a transparent top door, so it was easy to peer in and see he had fresh garlic and parmesan cheese, which she needed to give the dishes a flavorful kick. Once she had the asparagus in the oven, she put on a pot of water for the polenta, then placed the seasoned and flour-covered red snapper into the oil. She poured the polenta into the boiling water while keeping an eye on the crisping fish.

  Exactly twenty minutes later, Austin was back. She tried not to stare when Austin came back into the kitchen. He was wearing a navy blue dress shirt that contoured to his broad shoulders and tapered waist. The jeans he wore were fancier than the ones he worked in, and his suede shoes rounded out the ensemble. He’d shaved, and his hair was combed perfectly with a little styling gel in it. And he smelled good. He looked GQ chic, but she could see that rugged cowboy in him.

  “It’s smells delicious in here.” Austin rubbed his tummy.

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “But you smell much better.” He came over and kissed her.

  “Thank you again.” She continued stirring the polenta. “A girl could get used to all the compliments you dish out.”

  “A boy could get used to this home cooking. I do believe that is red snapper. One of my favorites. And what’s this?” He looked into the pot. “Yum, you made my other favorite, grits.”

  “No, it’s polenta.”

  “It looks like grits.”

  “Well, it’s really the same thing.”

  “You take that back.” Austin put his hands on his hips.

  She laughed, but she stopped when she looked up at his face and sa
w he wasn’t smiling. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m a country boy. We take our grits very serious.”

  “What difference does it make what you call it?”

  “Is that an existential question?” countered.

  “Well.” She turned off the burner and put her arms around his waist. “Why don’t we compromise? How about fancy grits?”

  He squinted at her. “Fancy grits?”

  “With a drizzle of olive oil on top to give it a different flavor. It will be a party in your mouth.” She nuzzled his neck.

  “I guess I can try it.”

  “Brave man. Hmm, we need a bottle of wine.”

  “I can get a couple of bottles of my friend Marco’s Chardonnay. It has a subtle oaky flavor. It should pair nicely with the red snapper.”

  “Good. I’ll set the table.”

  Austin went into the wine cellar and got the wine. It was the first time in a long while he’d shared a bottle with a woman in his home. The house was his place of solitude, and he wasn’t quick to let just anyone in. Savannah wasn’t just anyone though. Not by a long shot.

  He’d gone online and read her article on him on the flight back. She’d done a great job telling the story of the fire, and he could see her journey as a resident was coming full circle. She’d given him respect and didn’t embellish anything. It was an honest portrayal of who he was, and he couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

  When he returned, the table was set, the lights had been dimmed, and there were candles on the table.

  “Nice.” He got out the corkscrew and went to work on the first bottle.

  “You were so kind to put on that beautiful music.”

  “I like Tate’s playlist of love ballads.”

  “Do your friends always help you out on your dates?”

  “What do you mean?” He poured the Chardonnay in the glasses.

  She chuckled. “Tate’s on the sound system. Marco’s supplying the wine.”

  “I suppose so.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I am blessed to have talented friends.”

  He held her chair for her as she took her seat. She waited for him to sit down. She smiled as they both gently touched glasses before sipping their wine. It was an excellent vintage.

  She put her napkin on her lap. “You have a magnificent home.”

  “Wait until you see the rest. Do you want to say grace?”

  “OK.” She grasped his hand. “Bless the food. Bless the cook. If I had a stick, I’d break her foot.”

  “Huh?”

  She burst into laughter. “My grandma Flo used to say that.”

  “I like it. Not sure how I’d feel about it if I was the cook though.”

  “I often wondered what it meant, but it’s one of those things you can never get a straight answer about. I have a lot of nonsensical witticisms. My mother might want to pretend she is Hollywood elite, but her roots are more to the Southern part of the country.”

  He laughed. “Ah-ha!”

  “Now you give saying grace a shot.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I am thankful being here with this beautiful woman, sharing this delicious-looking meal. Anticipating what is yet to come.”

  “Amen,” she said.

  He dug into the fish. “This is delicious.”

  “Try the grolenta.” She motioned to it with her fork.

  “Huh?”

  “Grolenta. I was thinking of a mashup of ‘grits’ and ‘polenta,’ and ‘pits’ sounds gross.”

  He took a bite. “Not bad.”

  “I mixed in parmesan. I thought it would be a nice touch since it’s on the asparagus too.”

  “It’s divine.” He put another forkful in his mouth. “I read your article on the plane. You did an awesome job.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes. You handled the whole thing with dignity and respect. You weren’t too intrusive, even though you know plenty about me. I feel honored by the words you used to describe me.”

  “You’re an honorable man in every aspect of your life. I’m happy to know you. And just think, you were running from me like I had the plague when we met.”

  “I’ll never make that mistake again.”

  The continued talking through dinner. They meshed well, and he liked that. Even when they disagreed with each other and took a strong stance, they instinctively knew when to let it go for both their sakes. He’d always wanted a woman who knew the delicate art of compromise. He didn’t want to feel like he had to give in all the time like some hen-pecked significant other. He wanted an equal give and take.

  The fruit tarte she’d brought for dessert from her friend Barbara Jean’s bakery was delicious. Soon they moved from the kitchen to the living room. He started a fire, and they sat cuddled on the couch. He kissed her, a light smooch at first to convey how much he was enjoying being with her. But it morphed into something else when she kissed him back ferociously. He explored her body with his hands, loving the feel of every curve she had. She untucked his shirt and ran her soft, finely manicured hand over his chest. His heart stopped and his penis got rock hard when she caressed him through his pants. Enough was enough. He had to get her into his bed.

  “Savannah,” he growled. “If we don’t go upstairs right now, I’m going to take you right here on the living room floor.”

  She grinned. “Lead the way.”

  He scooped her up into his arms and headed upstairs. Once he’d reached the bedroom, he pulled back the covers and gently laid her down on the bed. He looked at her for a moment. She was simply beautiful. To think she’d spent most of her life thinking she didn’t measure up in some way was ludicrous to him. He loved every curve of her voluptuous body. She was soft and feminine and all the things he’d ever wanted in a woman.

  He kneeled on the bed and kissed her while he undid the buttons on her blouse. As each button relented, he could see her creamy breasts that were being held prisoner by the satiny material of her undergarment. He slid the blouse down her arms and freed her of it, then tugged on the front clasp of the bra. He cupped each full breast in his hand and rubbed his thumbs across each nipple until she groaned in satisfaction. But he was just getting started. He put a nipple in his mouth and began to suckle, reveling in the sweet taste of her skin.

  He lay on his side and continued to suck as he unbuttoned her pants and slid his hand down into her panties. She opened her legs wide for him as he inserted two fingers into her while his thumb caressed her clit. He was getting her ready for him.

  He lifted up to remove his clothes. He liked the look of hunger in her eyes as he slowly undressed. He kicked off his shoes, then removed his shirt and his jeans. He was rock hard, and once he finally removed his boxers, he was throbbing he wanted her so badly. He opened his nightstand drawer, retrieved a condom and sheathed himself quickly. He climbed back in the bed, braced himself on his knees, and thrust into her with such force she gripped his arms to steady herself. With each plunge, he felt like he was getting closer to being one with her, so he kept up the rapid rhythm until he was so deep inside her, he could swear he was connecting with her soul. It was all-consuming. The kisses couldn’t come fast enough. The caressing of each other’s body left him feeling like he wanted to touch her even more. The control he usually exhibited in an intimate encounter went out the window as they sped up and devoured each other.

  When she gripped his ass and pulled him closer, he knew he was a goner. Soon that pleasurable tension welled up from deep within his sack, screaming to be released but he wasn’t going to climax without her. He gripped her waist and hoisted her up and he positioned himself in a sitting position and put her down on him. He began to thrust upward as Savannah put a death grip on his shoulder blades. Soon they were out of control, each panting and moaning until it was time. He finally gave in when she let out a raucous yell and he followed right behind her with a primal groan of his own. They both collapsed on the bed and into each other’s arms. He knew then he wanted to spend the
rest of his life with her.

  * * *

  Savannah reluctantly opened her eyes, tempted to go back to sleep. She and Austin had been up all night making love and had finally knocked off a couple of hours ago. She reached for Austin, but he wasn’t in the bed. She glanced at the clock. It was six-thirty, and she knew his day started at six. Perhaps he’d dressed and gone down to the stables? Nah, he would have woken her up for that. The fact that he’d left her alone in his home spoke volumes. Either he trusted her implicitly, or he couldn’t come up with a good excuse to get her out of there fearing she’d cause a scene. Evasiveness didn't jive his passionate displays last night. The connection between them was electric.

  But if he had left her a note, she hoped it was something polite and sweet, anything that wouldn’t make her regret the night they’d spent together. Where was he? The morning after making love for the first time could be blissful or a regrettable nightmare. She didn’t regret a thing. She hoped he didn’t either.

  Memories of the most sexy, amazing time in her life with a man were fading down the drain as she began feel like she was alone and she began to worry. She liked Austin, a lot, but she couldn’t help but listen to those rumors about him having a short attention span with women. She found her clothes neatly folded on a chair in the corner but no note. Perhaps there would be a note downstairs. So she went into the bathroom to freshen up.

  She was trying to keep cool as she walked downstairs in search of him when she smelled bacon. She found Austin with an apron slung around his hips and cooking at the stove. Whatever happened next, she could handle it. There were plenty of ways of getting around Harper’s Grove without running into him. Like the rumor of the old rum-running tunnels below the town or only going out at night. Maybe it was best if she turned tail and—

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” Austin said.

  “Good morning.” She stilled. “You must have eyes in the back of your head. I was being extra quiet. Is that some of your SEAL training?”

  “Partly.” He laughed. “But you have a scent.”

 

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