by Maisey Yates
“No.” She unburdened herself, setting all her items down on a side table. “Logan... You’re part of us. You’re part of me. I understand why this was all...terrible timing.” She fidgeted, looking down at the bag with the ingredients she’d brought. Maybe this was bad timing, too. “I have something for you...”
“The only present I want to unwrap is you,” he whispered. “As long as you’ll have me, Rose Daniels. You’re the only Christmas present I really want. And ever since I saw you for the first time, in that beautiful bridesmaid dress, I was imagining taking it off you.”
“Were you really?” she asked, her voice hushed.
“Yes. Oh, you have no idea. Honey, when I first started fantasizing about you I thought there was something broken inside of me.” He laughed, a jagged, painful sound. “Well, forget that. I had always known there was something broken inside of me, but when I first started looking at you like that I thought maybe that was it. All the evidence of it that I could ever need. It tormented me.”
“It did?”
“Yeah. You were...you know, barely nineteen. Pretty as hell. You were around all the time and then...then it just changed and I couldn’t change it back.”
“When?”
It suddenly seemed imperative to know. When things had changed for him. For her it had been in stages. There had been that change when she had suddenly realized, not that he was a man, but that she was a woman, and that meant that him being a man didn’t put him off-limits. There was the wanting him. And then there was the slow realization that the feelings that lived inside of her were love. That they always had been, but when they were mixed together with desire, naked bodies, and laughing beneath the covers, it created alchemy that spun connection into love.
Being in love.
Not just the kind of love you had for a family.
And suddenly she wanted to know. Where the changes had happened for him. And what they had turned into now.
“You smiled at me.” He shook his head. “We had just delivered a calf. You were covered in blood and other things. We were tired, it had been a long night, and when we walked out of the barn, the sun was rising. You turned and looked at me, and the sunlight caught your hair. You smiled. I felt it right here.” He pressed his hand against his stomach. “And after that, it just wouldn’t let go. And I did everything I could to turn away from it. To let go of it and you. But it only got worse. It got to the point where I couldn’t just go find another woman to take the edge off.”
She gritted her teeth against that portion of the admission. She didn’t like to think about him with other women. She never wanted him to be with another woman again. She wanted him. And she wanted him to be with only her.
“And I told myself that I couldn’t do anything about it out of respect for Ryder. And then I realized, that he had nothing to do with anything. Our relationship is ours. You don’t need his permission. Any more than I do.”
“I never really thought about whether or not I was pretty. I never really worried about it. I’m really glad that I was to you.”
“I think you’d be pretty to the whole world.” He pulled her into his arms and brushed her hair out of her face. “But then, I’m biased. Because I know how pretty you look without your clothes on.”
“You’re the only one who does,” she said fiercely.
It was a promise. That he would be the only one ever who did.
She had never given that much thought, either. She had assumed that she would have to date a few people, when she was ready to start. Had never given a lot of thought to forever or marriage. And it wasn’t marriage that she thought of primarily now. It was just... They were bonded. Deeper than skin. Deeper than paperwork. There was no question about dating a few people. There was no question of there being anyone but him.
And that was when his intensity seemed to reach the boiling point. He hauled her against his chest and kissed her. This was no sweet, tentative meeting. Nothing like the sweetness they’d shared after he’d given her the necklace. This was something else entirely. It was fearsome and frightening. Wonderful.
Electric and explosive.
She was all right with it being too much. All right with that sense of being overwhelmed. Because she wanted it. Wanted to be overwhelmed by him. Wanted to be consumed by him.
She wanted to pour all of the feelings that she had into him. Because she wanted to add that layer that he left out. That shift that had occurred inside of her.
From the discovery of want to the inevitability of love.
This love that was just right there for them to take, for them to claim. She wanted him to claim it, too. She wanted it so very, very badly. She worked the buttons on that shirt that was mostly open, moved her hands over his muscles, his hard torso.
He was a thing of masculine beauty. The most incredible of God’s creations in her opinion. Sculpted perfection. He had taught her. He had taught her passion. He had taught her how to move to please herself, to please him. He had taught her to love this part of herself. This wild, unrestrained, passionate creature that only he had unlocked.
He had taught her to recognize these feelings. These moments.
And now, she was unleashing it all on him.
Now, she was holding him at her mercy.
Now, she wanted to show him something.
She wanted to show him her heart. How she felt. That great, driving need that existed inside of her.
She wanted to show him all of that and more.
He undid the zipper on that dress, and it fell down to her hips. She wiggled out of it completely, leaving her only in the strapless bra she had bought just for the wedding, and a pair of seamless underwear that were a bit more brief than she typically wore.
Judging by the fire in his eyes, he approved.
It made her want to get herself a variety of underwear. Different colors. Different shapes. Lace.
Anything to find new ways to tease him.
Suddenly, a whole lot of things made sense to her that hadn’t before. But wasn’t that the theme of all of this?
That life with Logan took on new dimension, new meaning. As their relationship did.
He made quick work of the bra, his hot mouth finding her nipple unerringly, sucking it in deep. She loved it when he was like this. When he didn’t treat her like she was fragile, or younger, or less experienced. When he came to her as an equal. As her lover.
When all the lines between them blurred, and nothing mattered but the moment they were in. Nothing mattered but the way they could touch each other, taste each other, make each other feel.
She loved it when nothing mattered but this.
When their bodies and desires melded into one.
She arched against him, rolling her hips, bringing the center of her need into contact with the evidence of his arousal.
And he was very, very aroused.
She broke their kiss so that she could give her focus to his belt, to getting his pants off, and when she did, she saw his face. There was something there that went past sexual desperation.
He was raw. And he was hurting.
And he was looking to her to heal him.
She had bandaged him a few times in his life.
He needed it from her again. But this was more than just putting a Band-Aid on cuts. More than kissing a bruise.
She couldn’t hold back. She had to give him everything.
And that meant that she couldn’t be safe.
But for him it was worth it. For him it would always be worth it. He held on to her tightly, and went down onto the couch, bringing her so that she was straddling his lap. Which brought her breasts right to the same level as his mouth. He teased her, suckled her, tormented her. And she loved it.
She surrendered to it.
He was a man who seemed intent on devouring her, and she was
happy to let him.
She rocked against him, trying to ease the ache that was centered between her thighs. But there was nothing that would work except for him. Him inside of her. That was what she needed.
“I need you,” she moaned, pressing her hand to his rock-hard arousal. She curved her fingers around him through the fabric and squeezed.
He dragged the fabric of her panties to the side and began to stroke her, pushing two fingers inside of her, teasing her that way while she rocked against him. She opened his pants, and settled herself over him, placing the head of him right where she needed him and sinking down.
His head fell back, his breath hissing between his teeth. He grabbed her hips, and seated her more firmly on him with one harsh movement. She gasped.
If she had thought to take control this way, he wasn’t going to allow it. He established an intense, harsh movement, his hips bucking upward, his hands bringing her down hard over him. She rolled her hips like she was taking a rough ride on a horse, sank into the rhythm and gave herself over to it.
Pleasure built inside of her until she could barely see. Until words ceased to exist in her mind and everything became feeling. Pleasure blooming in her stomach and lower, emotion expanding in her chest. When her orgasm took hold, she gripped his shoulders tight, freezing as she found her pleasure. Glorious. Intense. Everything. She saw stars. Brilliant and bright, like that clear sky above them when they had kissed in the open. That promise of something more. Something deeper. His climax followed hers, a growl that echoed in his chest. He gripped her hips so hard she thought it might leave bruises. Wanted it to, even. When it was over, she collapsed against him, spent and wrung out.
He lifted her, cradling her against his chest like she was something precious. She had spent her life being cared for by others. But she had never felt quite so cared for and protected as she did in this moment. The same man who pushed her, who challenged her, also offered the greatest protection. It was like a miracle.
Feelings like they had between themselves was like a miracle.
With his pants still halfway around his hips, he carried her to his room, and deposited her on the bed. He shucked his clothes the rest of the way as she wiggled out of her panties. Then they crawled beneath the covers, and he held her.
There had been a time when she’d ached for the Christmases of her childhood. Her early childhood. When she had longed for those gatherings when everyone had been there. They had been wonderful. And that time was over.
They had made a new kind of Christmas magic tonight.
It was wonderful to know that you didn’t have to leave magic behind in childhood. But that you could find it in the simplicity of a clear December night, held in the arms of the man you loved.
Right then, she couldn’t remember if she’d ever been quite so happy before.
And for once, she just decided to rest in it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
WHEN HE WOKE UP the next morning, it was Christmas, and Rose wasn’t in bed with him. He groaned, pressing his hands over his eyes. He would rather just sleep through the day. It was too much of a whole thing. He would rather that Rose were here with him. But of course, she had to get back to the main house, to spend Christmas doing regular things. And she couldn’t exactly have stayed with him overnight without it being noticed.
Then he heard clattering coming from outside of his room, and he sat up.
Could she have come back already?
He got out of bed and pulled a pair of jeans out of his dresser, yanking them on and buttoning and zipping them before heading out to the living room. She wasn’t there, and he went into the kitchen, and there she was.
Wearing one of his T-shirts, and that was it. She was fussing around with the oven and a mixing bowl. And she looked like... Well, she looked like Christmas morning. Like the very best present a man could ever ask for.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh,” she said, starting slightly. “I’m... It’s your Christmas present.”
“My what?”
“Your Christmas present.” She shrugged. “I was going to make it for you last night, but things got a little bit... Well. And so, I figured there was nothing wrong with having it on Christmas morning.”
“Don’t you need to be back at the house?”
“They did the gifts and everything last night.”
“Still. Don’t you think you’re going to be missed?”
“Maybe.”
“What is my Christmas present?” He decided to ask that instead, because it was clear she wasn’t going to concede his point on the fact that she should have maybe gone back to her brother’s house as would be expected.
She was playing it fast and loose with his physical safety, as far as he was concerned.
You’re playing it fast and loose with your own, and you know it.
“Chocolate chip cookies,” she said. “Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, to be exact. I found your mom’s recipe.”
He stiffened. “You did?”
“Yes,” she said. “I found the recipe, and I...I wanted to give it to you. Because I wanted you to... I want you to know... I want you to understand that even though we lost something amazing, something really important when we lost our parents...we didn’t lose everything. And there are some things that we bring with us. Some things that we are meant to carry on. I really believe that.”
“Rose...”
His chest went cold, his stomach going tight.
After everything that had happened yesterday this just felt like... It was too much. It was just too damned much.
“Don’t. Don’t argue with me. Look, I understand that this is all really hard for you. And I don’t pretend to understand all the ways that it is. I understand that it is, and that’s enough.”
“You didn’t have to do this,” he said.
“I did,” she said. She sighed heavily. “I wanted to give you something. Like, really something. I wish... I wish that...”
She closed her eyes for a long moment. “Logan,” she said. “I just want us to be healed. To be fixed. I spent a long time protecting myself. Ignoring all of my feelings. Because I just didn’t know how to have them. I’m so grateful for everything that everyone did for me, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m missing something from my life. I’m missing my mom and dad. And...it hurts.”
There was something about those words that hit him right in the chest. Echoed in him. He’d always thought Rose was strong and brave. Always. But right now she was the bravest he’d ever seen. Admitting she hurt. Which was something Logan couldn’t quite bring himself to do. “I never wanted to think about that. That I was still wounded. That there were just things I would always feel the lack of. I didn’t want to think about my own loneliness. I wanted to fix Iris up and not myself, because I didn’t want to look at the things that held me back. My fear of needing someone. The fact that I actually desperately want to be coddled a little bit, but I feel like I have to be tough. Yeah. I didn’t want to look at any of that stuff. It all scared me. Terrified me. But slowly, really slowly, over the course of our time together, I realized some things.”
She looked down at her hands for a moment. “One of the biggest ones is that we can always keep changing and learning and growing. And it’s this kind of magic gift. Recipes don’t have to stay buried. Necklaces don’t have to stay in boxes. And our hearts don’t have to stay... They don’t have to stay so guarded. Everything we’ve lost... Everyone we’ve lost... They might not be here with us in the way that we want them to be, but they’re still here. They’re part of us. If we’ll let them be.”
He looked at her, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how he was supposed to respond to that. She was standing there imploring him like she was so desperate for him to understand, and he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do with that. Didn’t
know how the hell he was supposed to say anything right now.
Because she was standing there, looking like the embodiment of a future that he had never believed he could have. A woman, wearing his T-shirt, baking his mother’s cookies. A woman who could...
His stomach pitched.
He hadn’t used a condom last night.
And there it was. Hank Dalton, coming home to roost. Or maybe it wasn’t even Hank. The man hadn’t raised him. He wasn’t dumb enough to believe that blood might make a man do something quite so stupid as not protect the woman that he was sleeping with.
No. It was just him. Not facing up to the reality of things.
It was him, imagining that things could be different when he damn well knew they couldn’t be. He had imagined a life where he would wake up every morning alone. No one would be in his kitchen bustling around making him anything.
But here she was. Radiant as sunshine, and looking something like hope.
“Logan,” she said. “You know, I wondered, why I never wanted anything more than what I had. And I thought maybe some of that was about my self-protection. I was starting to ask myself... What were my dreams? Because you know, Iris is going to open that bakery. And Pansy is the chief of police. And Ryder is coaching the high school football team. Sammy’s jewelry business is going amazingly well. Colt and Jake are out riding rodeo. And here we are. We are here. I was asking myself... Why don’t I have dreams?”
“You can do whatever you want,” he said, his throat dry, tight. “You could be whatever you want.”
“That’s just the thing. I am what I want to be. I love this ranch. With all my heart. This land is in my blood. It fuels my soul. I don’t remember my parents as well as everyone else. I was only six when they died, after all. Working the same ground my uncle did. Investing my sweat in the soil the same as my father did. Being in the same house where my mother raised us... This place built me. The loss of them built me. And keeping Hope Springs alive sustained me. Working with you sustained me. You wanted to be a rancher, right?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I would’ve been if things would’ve been different.”