by Tessa Layne
Just this morning, she’d started looking at cheap warehouse space in several cities across the country, because once Colton walked away, she couldn’t stay in Prairie. Seeing him but not being with him would be more than she could take. She’d have to leave.
She pulled into the drive and cut the engine.
“Talk to me, Lydia,” he murmured with that sweet seductive tone that always made her sing like a canary. He stroked a finger down her jawline.
The words jammed up in her throat. God forgive her for being a coward. She couldn’t put herself on the line for him again. When he heard the words I Love You, his rejection would be swifter than the last time she’d showed her true feelings all those years ago. Colt might come to love someone someday, but it wouldn’t be her, and it would be long after she’d figured out how to move on with her life. A sob threatened to replace the words stuck at the back of her mouth.
The porch light flashed, signaling that Luci knew she was in the driveway. Saved by the bell. Flashing him a smile, she unbuckled her seatbelt. “They’re waiting for us inside.”
“Who’s waiting for us inside?” Colt muttered, obviously irritated.
“Luci’s family. She has them for dinner once a week. Hope you saved room after mama’s pie.”
“You didn’t tell me there was going to be a second dinner,” he groused.
“Sorry. Forgot.” She hopped out of the SUV before she said more. In truth, it had slipped her mind. She’d been too wrapped up in Colton for any other part of her brain to work, and at least now, the Cruz family would give her cover. Lydia put on her game face and pushed open the front door.
“We’re out back tonight,” Luci hollered from the kitchen. “And don’t worry, no one touched the projects.”
The aromas coming from the kitchen were mouthwatering. “Is that posole?” Colton asked.
“Good nose,” Luci sang as she handed over a bowl. “Condiments are outside. Green and red chile sauce, sour cream, cilantro, lime, avocado, and cheese.”
“What about you, Lydia?” Luci asked. “Mama made it special tonight.”
“What’s the occasion?” Luci’s mother rarely cooked anymore, having handed the primary duties to the younger members of the Cruz family. But she always cooked for special occasions.
“A perfect summer night.” Luci leaned in. “I think she misses cooking for a group every now and then.”
Lydia accepted a bowl only because if she refused, Luci would start grilling her, and Lydia didn’t want to make a scene in front of her family. Her life felt dramatic enough at the moment. She followed Colt to the back deck, unable to hide a grin at the white lights someone had strung up. One of Luci’s cousins played guitar in the corner. Someone had started a bonfire in the middle of the backyard. Clearly, they were here for the duration. Lydia fought a sigh. More than anything, she wanted quiet, space to think, to sort out her feelings where Colt was concerned, and to figure out a plan of action in the wake of a broken engagement that never had been in the first place.
Colt pulled out a chair for her, then sat next to her. “I know you’re putting on a good face, but something is going on. What’s it gonna take for you to fess up, sweetheart?”
Again, the words bubbled up, ready to be heard. She wavered. He’d never been anything but honest with her from the get-go. He’d let her call the shots every step of the way. What were the chances that he’d turn her down? Significant, given their one and only conversation about love and marriage. He’d been honest about those feelings, too. Putting her posole down on an upside-down crate someone had turned into a table, she stood. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I think I need some air.” Never mind that she was already outside. She rushed back into the house, through the kitchen, and out to the front porch.
Fireflies winked on the front lawn, and she sank onto the porch swing with a relieved sigh. There, in the dark, she could gather her thoughts, and if the tears came, so be it. At least out front, no one would bother her. The swing creaked as she pushed it back and forth, joining the night chorus of tree frogs, crickets, and toads. She extended her arm across the back of the swing and dropped her head, letting the sounds wash over her. She’d always enjoyed summer nights in the Flint Hills, the sounds soothed her, grounded her, and tonight was no different.
The front door creaked. She ignored it, still pushing the swing.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Colt offered quietly.
She’d give him props for persistence. “The night has me melancholy. I’m sorry.” She scooted over on the swing. “Join me?” She patted the empty spot next to her.
He sat down and stretched out his arm, silently inviting her to come close. And like a starved puppy, she’d take whatever crumbs he offered. She scooted over, curling into him, and laying her head on his chest, pulse slowing to sync with the heartbeat under her ear. This would be enough, it had to. It was the best she could expect from him, and right now, fool that she was, she’d take it without question. With a sigh, she shut her eyes, and let the motion of the swing lull her. She caught a whiff of his cologne, spicy and warm underneath his natural masculine scent. She counted to one-hundred squeaks from the hooks.
At one-hundred-thirty-two, he spoke. “Why don’t we take a drive? I know someplace quiet.”
She nodded against his chest, unable to speak. She could sense the tension coiled in his body, his muscles wound tight beneath her hand. This was it – time to lay their cards on the table.
CHAPTER 30
Colt’s stomach jumped, refusing to settle. With every groan of the porch swing, his anxiety grew. Lydia was about to bail. That had to be why she was pulling back all of a sudden. Withdrawing. She couldn’t even look at him, and that only meant one thing. She was done with him. With them. Fear spread through his veins like ice as he cast about for a place to take her, away from the well-meaning but prying eyes of their families and friends. “Why don’t we take a drive? I know someplace quiet.”
She nodded against his chest and pushed off the swing. “I’ll grab some blankets.”
Once she’d disappeared inside, Colt sprang to this feet, shaking his sweat covered palms. His breath came in short gasps as he chased after his scattered thoughts. Every self-preservation alarm in his body sounded in a deafening chorus. He’d carefully orchestrated his life to avoid this very situation. The Colt of six or eight months ago would have politely said goodbye and exited the arena as fast as his boots could carry him. But he was all-in for Lydia. Even though riding the orneriest bull on the rodeo circuit, followed by the meanest bronc, held significantly more appeal than opening his soft underbelly to her, he’d do it. Hell, he’d rather walk barefoot across a Texas parking lot in summer, but he’d man up for even the smallest taste of what he’d witnessed at Travis’s.
His boots carried him back and forth across the porch. He might have been a failure in his young life, but he was different now. Had he shown her enough of that to convince her? Doubt assailed him as he replayed comments from his brother, from Dottie. Was he worthy of someone as special as Lydia? Probably not, but he sure as hell was gonna try.
The screen door creaked, and Lydia stepped out, a large quilt tucked under her arm.
Colt held out his hand. “Why don’t you let me drive?”
She didn’t make a sound, but fished out the fob from her jeans pocket and handed it over. Taking the steps by two, Colt bounded toward the SUV parked at the end of the driveway and held open the door for her before rounding the vehicle and climbing in.
“I snagged a few beers. They’re in my purse,” she offered quietly, clutching the blankets to her like armor.
“Good call.” He shifted into gear and pulled out of the driveway.
Thirty-three minutes later, he pulled onto the access road that led to Marion Reservoir.
“I haven’t been here in years.” Surprise colored Lydia’s voice.
“I used to come here all the time.”
“To drink?” she asked wryly.
She snorted.
“Don’t judge. It was the first place I thought of that was out of the way.”
“I’m totally judging.”
“You know I’m not like that anymore.”
She nodded. “I know,” she answered in a small voice. “Can we go someplace you’ve never been?”
A chance to make new memories, unsullied by the past. He liked that. “Of course.” He passed the first turnoff, heading into unfamiliar territory. They drove another mile, silence filling the cab. Glimpses of the moonlight reflecting on the water teased his peripheral vision. The lake would be glorious tonight. He turned onto the next road and wound through the trees, slowing to a stop at an old abandoned camp site. “I should have brought firewood, it might be buggy.”
“It’s okay. I have bug spray in my purse.”
Always prepared, his Lydia. He kicked himself for not planning ahead. A fire would have been much more romantic. At least no storms were on the horizon. She hopped out of the SUV before he could make it around the front to open the door. An old cottonwood log lay a short distance from the shore. Lydia spread a blanket on the gravel and draped the other over the back of the log. He sank to the ground, butterflies launching in his stomach.
Lydia joined him, angling her body toward his.
He took her hand. They spoke at the same time.
“I need to tell you some things.”
“I need to tell you something.”
Lydia’s mouth turned up for the first time since they’d left Resolution Ranch, melting his fear with its brilliance. “You, first.”
He laced his fingers with hers. “You sure? I have a lot to get off my chest.”
She nodded, giving his fingers a squeeze.
Taking a big breath, he started. “I was five the night my mom left. I don’t remember much about her, but I remember that night like it was yesterday.” His gut churned, and he was back at the ranch, a scared kid in the midst of chaos. “She’d been drinking. But this time I remembered my dad begging her not to go. I’ll never forget the desperation in his voice. She said she didn’t know why she’d agreed to live in this godforsaken town, that he’d lied to her. Sold her a bill of goods.”
Lydia gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand.
“It gets worse. Trav stepped in and pleaded with her on my behalf, and she looked at me like I was nothing. Worse than a pig in mud.”
“Oh, Colt.”
For years the memory had torn him up, made him want to toss the contents of his belly, and the only thing that numbed the grief was booze, or pot, or women. It still hurt, probably always would, but not in the same way. Now, he could take out the memory and turn it in his hand. Examine it like he would a flank strap, or a new belt.
“What broke me? Broke dad too, for all I know, was when she told dad it was my fault I was born. That she never wanted me and that she was going home to Florida.”
Lydia let out a sob, squeezing his hand tight and wrapping herself around him. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine how that devastated you.”
“I was too young to process it, all I knew was that my mom didn’t love us and that was why she left. My dad was never the same. I-I think that’s why he got sick and died.”
She shook her head. “You must know better, now.”
Colt scrubbed a hand across his jaw with a sigh. “Yeah. But sometimes…” A shudder wracked him. He’d never told anyone his deepest, darkest fear. He swallowed down the dread that gripped him. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. “Sometimes, I think my dad blamed me for her leaving.” It sounded awful, giving voice to the thoughts he’d kept locked tight for decades. “Sometimes, I’d catch him staring at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. And-and I could tell.”
Lydia lifted her head, and forced his gaze up. “It wasn’t your fault,” she declared with conviction. “You were a kid. A baby.”
He forced himself to keep going, to hold the emotions threatening to railroad him at bay. “I’m not proud of the choices I’ve made. How I handled things.” He stared out at the water, drowning in its darkness.
“That’s all in the past, Colt. It’s not who you are now.”
Unable to look at her for fear of what he’d see, he focused on the tree-line on the far shore. “And who am I, Lyds? Who do you see?”
“I see a man who uses bravado like armor, but his loyalty is fierce if he considers you a friend. I see a man who takes his responsibilities seriously, who is as good as his word, who is generous and encouraging.” She hesitated.
“And?”
“Who’s cocky, and funny.” Her breath hitched, as if she was struggling to say something. “And who is very, very lovable,” she finished in a rush.
Well, knock him over with a feather.
She climbed onto his lap and dropped her head, laying kisses along his neck. “I can’t erase the past, but I can give you this right now.” She brought his hand to her heart.
What was she saying? Longing surged through him as her heart thumped beneath his fingers, steady and strong. This. This heart, this woman anchored him. Gave his life purpose. If there was even the slightest chance she felt the same way, he’d charge through that opening with everything he had. Skating his fingers over her collarbone, sliding up her neck, he tipped up her chin. “Say the word,” he urged, not even sure he knew what he was asking for.
She answered with a kiss, her mouth opening, tongue darting along his lip. With a groan, he responded, giving her access to his mouth, to any part of him she wanted. It was like kissing her for the first time again, the way their tongues slid and curled in a conversation that went straight to his soul.
Her hands pulled at the buttons on his shirt. In a flurry of fingers, they disrobed, mouths still drinking each other in like water in the desert. They broke apart only to shimmy out of their jeans, tossing them on the growing heap of clothing.
Gently pushing her back, he drew a hand down her torso, reveling in the way she glowed in the moonlight. “So perfect, so sweet,” he murmured, circling a finger around one taut nipple. Goosebumps erupted on her skin as she arched into his touch.
Her hand fluttered from his shoulder over his pecs, coming to rest where his ribs were taped, her touch like the kiss of butterfly wings. “Does it hurt?”
“Only in the sweetest way possible.”
She reached lower, thumb pressing up along the ridge of his rigid cock, fingers encircling its slick head.
He followed suit, sweeping his fingers through her wet curls and parting her slick seam with his thumb, stroking up to find her clit, swollen and ready for his touch. With a gasp, she bucked her hips, bowing into him and pulling him in for another kiss. His will frayed.
“Sweetheart.” He wanted so badly to feel her slick heat encasing him. To lose himself in her softness.
“Condoms are in my purse,” she murmured between kisses.
“What if we…” He let the words dangle between them. She’d never hidden that she was on the pill, but since it had never come up, he’d always assumed she wanted the condoms as much as he did. But maybe they’d crossed into new territory?
She pushed up to an elbow. “Are you sure?”
He nodded, not trusting his voice.
Her eyes were dark pools in the moonlight, as deep and fathomless as the water behind them. They held him captive as he shifted over her, rubbing the head of his cock along her slick entrance, coating himself in her essence.
Time slowed. The only thing between them, their ragged breathing, and his hope.
“I… want you.” She reached up and cupped his face, eyes luminous, the movement heartbreakingly tender but at odds with her words.
An ache lodged in his chest as he slid home into her, refusing to release her gaze as he thrust slowly, her tight heat encasing him. Surely she must feel what was between them? The wa
y he felt? “Marry me.” The words spilled out in a tumble, refusing to be contained for another second.
She stilled beneath him, eyes going wide.
“Be my wife. For real.” He rolled his hips, pressing his point, and was rewarded with a needy moan from her lips. “I love you,” he rasped, not recognizing his voice.
“For real?” she whispered back.
“For real.” He thrust again, the ache at his center building as she clenched around him. “Make babies with me.”
Two tears spilled out the side of her eyes. “Oh, Colt, me too.”
He kissed the trail they left, pouring all his feeling into every movement, every push of his hips as they joined.
She raised her head, bringing her mouth to his. “Yes,” she said against his lips before kissing him. “Yes.”
Her words acted like a key, turning a lock that caged in the deepest part of his soul. As they spiraled higher together, the first stirrings of happiness sprang to life inside him – new, and fresh, and perfect. The sensation carried him to another plane, where every touch, every caress, every thrust their bodies made together, held deeper meaning.
And as their cries mingled with the night frogs and other woodland sounds, Colt’s heart filled to bursting. He rolled to his side, pulling her with him as they floated back to earth. “Will you tell me now? What’s been bothering you?” He tugged on a lock of her hair before brushing it off her forehead.
She gave him a rueful smile, fingers tracing the tape on his ribs. “It doesn’t matter, now. I was afraid to tell you how I felt. Worried you’d feel pressure to change our agreement. And I realized I’d rather take a fake engagement over nothing at all. I love you so much, Colt,” her voice grew misty. “I want to spend my life being your wife. Even if we have to be apart for long stretches.”