by Barb Han
“I’ll do my best to get back before supper,” he said. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be, considering his head had been out of the ranching business lately.
Nate pulled up next to Linda’s car at Chelsea’s house. He got out and walked her to the back door, linking their fingers.
The urge to kiss her had been building all morning.
“Before you go inside, I’d like your permission to kiss you again.”
Chelsea turned around and locked gazes with him.
“You sure that’s such a good idea?”
Chapter Seventeen
“It’s a terrible idea,” Nate said with one those devastating smiles of his.
Chelsea fisted Nate’s shirt. She’d been thinking about the kiss they’d shared far too often. This was going to be the worst of bad ideas and yet she couldn’t stop herself. Her gaze drifted up to his lips.
And then she looked into his eyes—another grave mistake—because the hunger she saw in them caused heat to swirl low in her belly. The feeling of a hundred butterflies releasing caused her stomach to drop.
Yeah, she was in deep trouble with Nate because this kiss was going to mean a lot more than she wanted it to.
She’d rather do emotional breezy with white-hot passion with him. The kind that burned intensely for a few hours before flaming itself out.
The fire between her and Nate spread.
Ignoring the fact that this heat could cause devastation like she’d never known, Chelsea pushed up to her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. His tongue delved into her mouth, causing more of that heat to rocket through her body. His mouth fused to hers. His breath quickened, matching the tempo of hers.
Chelsea had never experienced the kind of all-consuming passion that she did when she was with Nate. He was more than just ridiculously hot. He was intelligent and kind, which made for a potent combination. It was also impossible to resist for long.
His hands looped around her waist, pressing her body flush to his. His hands splayed against the small of her back and her stomach turned summersaults.
Every time she took in a breath, her breasts felt heavy and swollen with need, a need to be touched.
Desire built inside her and she was perplexed by how one kiss could stir up such a reaction in her body.
She pulled back long enough to ask, “Do you want to come inside?”
“Is that a real question?” Nate asked.
He linked their fingers after she unlocked the back door.
Once inside, he stopped her long enough to feather a kiss on her collarbone. She grabbed his hand and tugged him into the hallway where she stopped him midway to kiss him on the lips.
Their breath quickened as they moved to the stairwell. Anticipation building with each step toward her room, her bed.
The floor creaked and Chelsea froze. A few beats later, she squeezed Nate’s hand and led him to the top of the landing.
Her mother’s door was closed and, after a quick peek, Chelsea realized the woman was sound asleep. Skylar was still in school.
Chelsea led Nate to her bedroom.
It didn’t take but a second to close and lock the door. She turned to find him standing right there. He took her hands and lifted them until they pressed against the door above her head. He dipped his head and captured her lips. And her knees struggled to support her weight with the heat in the kiss.
His tongue dipped inside her mouth and warmth pooled between her thighs.
With her back against the door and Nate flush with her front, she thought about how amazing he would feel on top of her, crushing her into the mattress with his weight. She wanted to feel him inside her.
Her breathing quickened, matching the pitch of his as he toed off his boots and she stepped out of her tennis shoes.
Chelsea wiggled her hands free of his and dropped them to the hem of his shirt. He helped her by shrugging out of it and then she tossed it onto the floor. Hers joined his a moment later.
He groaned a deep guttural noise when he saw the teal lace of her bra. Then he palmed her breasts as she angled for her bra snap. A moment later, that joined the growing pile on the wood floor.
“You are perfection,” he whispered in a low, husky voice that sent trills of electricity shooting through her body.
She figured this wasn’t the time to point out the stretch marks that he didn’t seem to notice or care about as he dipped his head and captured a nipple in his lips.
Her body hummed with need as her fingers dropped to the waistband of his jeans. She fumbled with the buttons at first but his strong hands joined hers and he stepped out of the denim a second later. In his boxers, she could see his stiff length and another rocket of desire fired through her. Her mind tried to convince her that it had been too long since she’d had mind-blowing sex but her reaction was all Nate Kent.
He had buckets of sex appeal.
She dropped her hand to the erection tenting his boxers and his body stiffened with her touch. His gaze locked onto hers. There was so much hunger in his eyes, he made her feel like the sexiest woman on earth, flaws and all.
A few seconds later, she stepped out of her jeans. He hooked his fingers on either side of her hips and her panties joined the pile on the floor.
By the time they reached the bed, they were bare, naked, skin to skin.
The silky skin of his erection pressed against her belly. He looped his arms around her and kissed her so thoroughly her knees actually buckled. Strong arms kept her upright.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered in that low, husky voice that trailed along her skin. “And smart.”
He feathered a kiss along her collarbone.
“And sexy.”
More kisses along the nape of her neck.
Chelsea pushed him back a step, causing him to sit on the edge of the bed. She joined him, wrapping her legs around his midsection, feeling the sexiest and most empowered she’d ever felt with a man.
It was Nate. He had that effect on her. She felt smart and beautiful and appreciated by him.
Chelsea wrapped her arms around his neck and tunneled her fingers into his hair as she kissed him.
She settled on top of his erection, slowing enough to allow the tip inside. She moved her hips until he was a little deeper inside. His tongue swirled in her mouth. And then her pace picked up.
She ground her hips and he groaned a sexy noise.
He brought his hands up to her breasts and rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers as she slid on top of him until he reached deeper insider.
Bucking her hips, a well of need sprung as he matched her tempo.
Chelsea gripped his shoulders, digging her fingernails into his skin as he brought her to the brink of ecstasy.
Before she could jump off the cliff, he twisted her around until she was on her back, his weight pushing her deeper into the mattress. She loved the feel of him on top of her as he thrust his sex deeper inside her.
She matched his pitch as she felt his muscles tense. He was on the edge with her.
Faster. Harder. Deeper.
He drove himself inside her until her muscles clenched and released as she reached the peak of ecstasy.
He dove off the cliff with her, drawing out the last spasm.
And then he collapsed next to her, chest heaving.
By far, that was the best sex she’d ever had because it had felt like so much more.
“This changes things between us,” he said so low she almost didn’t hear him. “I’m falling for you.”
Chelsea wasn’t sure how to respond so she pretended not to hear him.
A few minutes later, Nate kissed her before getting dressed and walking out the door.
Why hadn’t she said something to him?
Why couldn’t she go there with him?
&nb
sp; Why hadn’t she stopped him from leaving?
* * *
A BRANCH SCRAPED against the window, startling Chelsea. The winds had picked up in the past hour and the cold front seemed to be moving in earlier than expected. She glanced at the time. She wasn’t due to pick up Skylar for another half hour.
Rain droplets pelted the window behind her, making it sound like someone was tap dancing on the pane.
That couldn’t be a good sign.
Rather than wait for the front to worsen, Chelsea decided to pick up her daughter early. Better safe than sorry, was her thought when it came to unpredictable Texas weather.
Brutal winds blasted her windshield and pea-size hail crashed against the hood. Debris blew around on the streets, which were empty, as most people were already hunkering down for the storm.
Chelsea realized half the kids had already been picked up by the time she got to the preschool. A moment of gratitude washed over her for not being the last one there.
Skylar ran to her mother and launched herself into the air. Chelsea put her arms out just in time to catch her. At close to forty pounds, Skylar was getting harder to hold.
“Momma!” the little girl exclaimed and Chelsea’s heart nearly burst. Skylar had her father but a selfish part of her was grateful that she wouldn’t have to deal with sharing custody. She was selfish enough to want every birthday, every Christmas, with her angel. Granted, if Travis had turned out to be the standup father Skylar deserved, Chelsea would figure out a way to make peace with being alone every other year for special holidays.
But Chelsea would be grateful for what she had.
“Are you ready to go, sweet girl?” Chelsea set Skylar down and bent to her level.
“Yes.” That little girl’s smile could melt even the worst day.
Skylar packed up her princess-themed backpack as Chelsea thanked Mrs. Eaton, her teacher.
Hand-in-hand, the two walked out of the preschool. Wind pelted them the minute they stepped outside. Chelsea squeezed her daughter’s hand a little tighter as she clutched her coat closed with her free hand.
“Ready to run?” she asked Skylar.
“Mommy? Who’s that man?”
Chelsea looked up in time to see Travis in front of her pickup, leaning against the hood.
Her heart clutched as icy fingers gripped her spine.
“Can we talk about it later?” Chelsea had no plans to deliver the news he was Skylar’s father.
She gripped her keys a little tighter. “Let’s go home, okay?” she said to Skylar.
“Okay,” came the response along with a giggle.
Chelsea hurried her daughter toward the pickup.
“We need to talk,” Travis said as they approached.
“I’m sorry but I don’t have anything to say to you.” Chelsea she stalked past Travis, glaring at him. “Please stay away from me.”
“We both know I won’t,” he declared.
“Do you care about me at all?” she asked, incredulous.
“Baby, I still love you,” he stated.
Fire ants crawled across her skin as she opened the door and secured Skylar into her car seat.
Chelsea shut the door as Travis gripped her wrist.
“Ouch. You’re hurting me,” she said to him, forcing a smile to hide her reaction from her daughter who watched through the window.
“I saw you with that fireman.” Travis seemed to grind out the words.
“Let go of me.” Chelsea jerked her arm away from him, breaking his grip.
“You’re my girl.” Travis’s voice sent a chill down her spine. In his twisted world, he believed those words.
“I belong to me and my daughter. None of which is your business, Travis,” she stated as she stalked to the driver’s side.
She grabbed the handle and opened the door just a little when it was jerked out of her hand and slammed shut.
Travis pushed her up against it and then his mouth was next to her ear. “Hear this. You are still my girl. That child in there belongs to me. And I have every intention of getting my family back.”
Chelsea planted both hands on the vehicle and, using all her strength, pushed back.
Travis was caught off balance and stumbled backward a couple of steps. Chelsea rushed into the pickup and locked the door behind her. He banged against the window with his fist and she thought he might actually break the glass.
Skylar screamed.
“It’s okay, sweetie. That man won’t hurt us.” Chelsea’s heart squeezed at the thought of telling her daughter that man was her father.
This was not the man she’d known. Travis had changed so much. Was it jail that had made him so cruel? Sure, he’d stolen from her, but he’d never wished her harm. This was different. He was different. And she was very afraid of what he’d become.
The engine cranked up and she squealed her tires out of the parking lot. Her hands shook as she reminded herself to take a few deep breaths.
The weather system had arrived, full force, as nickel-size pieces of hail pelted the windshield. Back at the preschool, she’d barely noticed the freezing rain while distracted by Travis.
Travis. Chelsea had racked her brain dozens of times in the past four years for missed signs. When she’d first told Travis she was pregnant, he hadn’t been thrilled by the news but he’d come around. She’d been the one concerned because they hadn’t been dating nearly long enough and he’d lost his job and had been down about it.
After being told about the baby, he’d accused her of having an affair and then walked out, disappearing for eighteen hours. His phone had been turned off. Chelsea, certain he’d leave her, convinced herself that she could have the baby on her own. Her business had started flourishing. It wouldn’t have been easy but she’d been prepared.
And then he’d come back. He’d said that he’d needed a little time to think about being a father. He apologized for his initial reaction to the news and managed to convince her that he was excited about the baby. He’d kissed her belly and she’d wanted to believe him so much that she’d ignored all the signs that he wasn’t telling the truth. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth was his tell-tale giveaway.
Chelsea had ignored it. She’d wanted, no needed, to believe that Travis had wanted to be a good father. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that her family history was repeating itself. She’d refused to think that she could be that naïve or stupid.
It had taken experience and hardship for Chelsea to realize that none of Travis’s failures had been her fault. She hadn’t been able to fix him any more than she could make him love his daughter.
The similarities to her family background had not been lost on her when Travis hadn’t showed up at the hospital that early April morning—
An old Jeep roared up behind her, flashing its lights.
She checked her rearview and saw that Travis was behind the wheel. And then he tapped her back bumper.
Chelsea bit back a curse.
“Mommy, I’m scared,” Skylar stated before crying.
If crying would help, Chelsea would have no problem doing the same. But she had to be strong for her daughter.
“It’s okay. I get scared sometimes, too. Let’s make this a game, okay?” Chelsea was searching her brain for something to say as she banked a last-minute right turn. But Travis followed.
“Close your eyes, cover them with your hands and count to one hundred as loud as you can,” she said to Skylar. Her own heart rate climbed and she prayed the distraction would work. Anger burned through her. It was one thing to try to hurt her, but to bring harm to their daughter was unforgivable.
“One, two, three...” came from the back seat.
“Good, girl. Keep it going.” Chelsea made another quick left-hand turn and then another. The roads were getting slick so she couldn’t
risk going too fast.
Another pair of quick turns yet the Jeep was still behind her.
Chelsea glanced around, unfamiliar with the surroundings as she continued to make left or right turns, trying to lose the Jeep.
This was not the time to realize she didn’t know how to get to the sheriff’s office from here. Her cell was on the floorboard, the contents of her purse being dumped out on the last turn.
She approached a bridge that warned of a lake and had no choice but to slow to a crawl. She wanted to turn around but couldn’t manage it with Travis on her bumper. How on earth had they gotten to this place where her ex, the father of her child, was trying to harm her? Didn’t he realize that his daughter could be hurt?
Chelsea white-knuckled the steering wheel, seeking an outlet for the rage building inside her. She had so much anger. She switched lanes and he followed, tapping her bumper again. He might be scaring her but there was no way she was going to let him win. Not this time.
The roads were bad. She wanted to gun the engine but couldn’t risk the slick roads. Chelsea pushed slightly harder on the gas pedal and then switched lanes as Travis roared up to her back bumper.
What was he thinking?
Desperate, Chelsea scanned the road. Was there a turnoff? Would it be safer for her and Skylar if Chelsea pulled over?
Travis had to know that there was no way she was letting him get anywhere near Skylar. As far as Chelsea was concerned, the man would never meet his child after pulling this stunt. Her heart hurt for the fact that Skylar would never have a real father.
Of course, when she thought about an amazing man whom she’d prefer to have as her daughter’s father, Nate Kent came to mind.
“Sixty-five, sixty-six...”
She heard Travis gun his engine, trying to slam into her on the bridge, but he’d only succeeded in spinning out. The Jeep banged against the guardrail. He must’ve hit the ice patch she’d managed to avoid.
Chelsea continued to creep along the bridge, her stress levels through the roof as her heart pounded her ribs.
She checked her rearview mirror but no Jeep came whirling up to the bumper. At least the heater in the pickup was solid, she thought distractedly.