Long Road Home

by JoAnn Ross

  “It could be.”

  “And I know we agreed that the wisest plan would be to take things slow—”

  “That was pretty much your idea.” He’d been all for that hot, sweaty sex suggestion.

  “True. Because I was trying not to be impulsive. Which hasn’t worked out real well for me in the past.”

  This time, instead of retreating as he had on her back porch, Sawyer stayed right where he was. His hands moved to her waist and drew her even closer.

  “Did you come over here to seduce me, Austin Merrill?”

  “If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right.” Color flooded into her cheeks as she tried to pull away. “I’m sorry, this was a mistake.”

  Sawyer was not about to let her get away. Not this time. “It’s not a mistake. And, for the record, it’s also not impulsive. We’ve known each other all our lives,” he reminded her. “There’s even a photo in Gram’s family album of the two of us, naked as newborn jaybirds, being bathed together in the Bar M’s farm kitchen sink.”

  “That photo would get you put in Facebook jail if you tried to post it these days,” she said with a soft laugh.

  “Probably. But you know, I wouldn’t mind recreating it. Especially since I can’t remember it.”

  “What were we? Six months old?”

  “Probably thereabouts.” He could feel her heart beating. Felt his own quicken to match its pace.

  “So, of course you wouldn’t. Remember, that is.”

  “All the more reason to create a new memory.”

  “We wouldn’t fit in the sink.”

  “No. But I do have a racy red claw-footed tub.”

  “Brody found that when he updated the cabin a few years ago to add an extra bedroom for Jim and Janet’s youngest. It’s a true original he unearthed in a Jacksonville Victorian that was being demolished to make way for some movie star’s stupid idea of a log cabin mansion.”

  “Hooray for Hollywood.”

  “Dad accused us of having eaten locoweed. But Janet loved it.”

  His hands slid down and cupped her very fine butt. Another cool thing about cowgirls—riding those thousand-pound horses gave them terrific muscle tone. “I’ll bet Jim did, too.”

  He nipped at her earlobe. “The same way I like a cowgirl with sass.” Damn if she didn’t smell like a piña colada, which brought up tumbling her not in a hayloft but in the surf on some moon-spangled beach. And since it was his fantasy, there were no worries about getting sand in uncomfortable places.

  His hand slid beneath the pink T-shirt, over her silky-smooth skin to cup her bare breast. She was soft. Sweet, and far from safe. But Sawyer was fed up with being safe where this woman was concerned.

  “I want you,” he said, lifting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist. “So much it aches. But not here. And not fast. I’ve been waiting more than half my life to have you, Austin Merrill, and I’m damn well going to take my time.”

  She wiggled against his groin in a way that had him worried he might have exaggerated his staying power. “What if I want you fast and hard?”

  “Next time,” he said, tormenting them both by rubbing her even harder against him. After making it down the hall without a premature blastoff, he tossed her down on the bed, where she bounced. Twice.

  “Ooh,” she said, long legs splayed as she looked up at him. “That’s definitely hot, sexy Alpha male behavior.” She went up on her knees and slipped her hands beneath his rumpled gray T-shirt. “You know that book club I told you about?”

  “Yeah.” He sucked in a breath as her fingers slid beneath the waist of his Wranglers. Seriously? She was going to talk about a frigging book club now?

  “Jenna put together a collection of novels for me to read.”

  “Okay.”

  “Here’s the thing.” With a dexterity that allowed her to tie a rope and mend a bridle, she unfastened the metal button at his waist and got busy on his zipper. “They were erotic romance novels.”

  One more centimeter and he’d lose it. He grabbed her hands and pulled them away from both their bodies to keep them out of trouble. “So, you’re into gazillionaires with handcuffs?”

  Maybe this wasn’t going to be as straightforward as he’d thought. And maybe he should’ve read one of those damn books when nearly every guy in his unit was passing them around. When you were deployed in strictly religious countries that banned Penthouse, a guy had to get his porn where he could find it.

  “No.” She bit her bottom lip as she appeared to be thinking that over. “I think a billionaire’s hands would be too soft. And anyone can get buff in some fancy city gym.”

  Her speculative gaze moved over him, from the top of his head down to his thighs, where the rest of her view was blocked by the mattress. “My fantasies run more toward muscles earned the old-fashioned way. By hard, manly work. A cowboy with big guns who knows how to use his rough, calloused hands.”

  Austin had always been as sweet as pie. And surprisingly innocent for a girl who grew up in breeding barns. In all his years of imagining this moment, he’d been gentle, tender, needing to be careful and make their first time together memorable.

  But now, thanks to River’s Bend’s bookseller, he decided to change directions.

  “New plan.”

  “Oh? And what would that be?” Her voice was breathless and vibrating with anticipation.

  He let go of her long enough to yank his shirt over his head and shuck the jeans. “You, Austin Merrill, cowgirl with sass, are going to save a horse.” When she lifted her arms, he knew she expected him to pull her shirt over her head.

  Which was why he grabbed hold of the V-neck and ripped it down the front, exposing pert, rosy-tipped breasts. “And ride yourself a cowboy.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. Then, hot damn, licked her lips.

  With every atom in his body screaming for release, her jeans went next, which took more time because, as tight as they were, it involved a lot of yanking on his part and wiggling on hers to get them down her legs to where they—damn—got stopped by her red Tony Lamas.

  Betting that Mr. Grey guy had never run into this roadblock, Sawyer put her foot between his legs, risking a future generation of Murphys, and pulled first one boot off, then the other, leaving her clad only in a pair of pink-and-red caterpillar stripped socks. Which, since he found them strangely hot, he decided to leave on. For a while.

  “Okay.” The mattress sighed as he knelt over her, his knees on either side of her long, smooth thighs. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to touch you.”

  “Mmm.” She closed her eyes and arched her back like a sleek cat waiting to be stroked.

  “But you’re going to tell me where.”

  “What?” Her eyes flew open. He might be willing to play along with her big, bad controlling alpha male fantasy, but his fantasy involved full participation on both their parts.

  “This is our first time.” He skimmed a hand down her side. “I need to know what you want.” The other side, his knuckles just brushing against her breast. “What you enjoy.”

  “I can’t.” She tossed her head. “I’ve never . . . Do you always talk while you’re having sex?”

  “Not as a rule. But this is different. Because you’re different.” He circled the rosy areola with the tip of a fingernail. “Special.” She was making that low humming sound again. “Do you like that?”

  “You know I do.”

  “There you go.” He moved to the other breast. “Now, open your eyes and look at me. I want to watch you while I touch you.”

  Her eyes, heavy-lidded now, were becoming unfocused, but she did as instructed. “Now, tell me what needs attention next.”

  She clasped his wrist and tried to move his hand. But while years of training and riding thousand-pound horses had made her strong, he was stronger. “Tell me.”

  He had to tighten his thighs and struggle for control as she licked her lips. “I want you to touch my nipple, dammit.”


  “Anything to oblige a lady.” His smile was as slow as his hands as he did exactly that. Brushing them with a fingertip at first, then pinching them just enough to draw a slight gasp from between those moist lips.

  “And now, I’m going to taste you. And because I want to for my own selfish pleasure as much as yours, I’m not even going to make you beg.”

  “As if you could,” she managed as he lowered his head and closed his lips around a taut pink bud.

  “You’ve always had spunk,” he said, his words reverberating against that silky piña colada flesh. “It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you.”

  His teeth closed down, just enough to draw another of those soft and sexy gasps. She arched her back again as he moved back to the other. Then, when she was going limp beneath him, he lay down beside her and began moving his hand down her body, tracing figure eights over her torso. Which, he noted, had abs a Marine boot camp drill sergeant would be proud of.

  “Lower,” she moaned. Her long, lean, gorgeously buff body was practically doing a horizontal tango on the sheets.

  When she reached again for his hands, again he caught hers, lifted them over her head, and closed her fingers around the bars of the headboard.

  “Like I said, I’m going to touch you. Everywhere you ask. Like right now I’m going lower.” His fingers danced down to her stomach, which she sucked in at his touch. He paused again. “We agreed to take things slow, so that’s exactly what we’re going to do. We’re going to spend a long time with you telling me everywhere you want to be touched. Stroked. Licked.” His tongue made a wet swath over her mound while she actually purred. “Every bit . . . Not too hard. Not too soft.” He demonstrated. “Tell me if that’s just right?”

  “Yes.” Her hands stayed where he’d instructed, but her legs fell open, offering more. Offering whatever he wanted. But more importantly, Sawyer reminded himself, what she wanted.

  “And then, when I’ve touched and done everything you tell me to, we’re going to change places and you’re going to touch me wherever I want.”

  “Oh, goodie.”

  “Did I mention that sometimes cowgirls with sassy mouths can earn a spanking?” He flipped her over and gave her two light swats on her firm butt and had her practically levitating off the bed. Then kissed the pink spots darkening her pale skin.

  “But that’s not all,” he said as he planted a trail of wet kisses down the back of her leg. “Since we’ve got nowhere to be and all night to get there, I’m going to explore every sweet inch of your body and find erogenous spots you didn’t even know you had.”

  She actually cried out when he nipped at the back of her knee. Which wasn’t a surprise since he’d suspected that there was more than one reason Austin Merrill enjoyed riding horses.

  He turned her onto her back again, caught her chin in his fingers, and held her gaze to his. Her pupils had grown so large they were turning her blue eyes to nearly purple. “You up for all that?”

  Her smile was slow and hot enough that if they’d been the first man and woman on the planet, and she’d offered him that forbidden apple, he wouldn’t have lasted a day in the Garden of Eden.

  “Absolutely,” she said.

  25

  “I WISH YOU could stay,” Sawyer said the next morning.

  “Me, too.” The sun was just beginning to rise, casting the snow-clad mountaintop in a pink glow. Although the hour wasn’t early for a rancher, if she had her druthers, Austin would stay in Sawyer’s bed for the next week. Of course, the red tub had proven to have its own appeal. Especially when they’d gotten sidetracked this morning with the attached handheld shower spray. There were parts of her still tingling that, until last night, had forgotten they could tingle.

  She began buttoning one of his shirts, which fell to mid-thigh over her jeans. “But I have to drive to Medford to pick Lexi up at the airport.”

  “Since Dad’s guys are taking care of both our stock, I’ll go over and have breakfast with the kids.”

  “They’d love that.” She went over to him, framed his handsome face between her palms, and kissed him. She was pleased and relieved that her earlier concerns about whether he’d want to be involved with Jack and Sophie appeared not to have been necessary. “Perhaps you can bring them back here.”

  “Will do. Maybe we’ll wander down to the river and drown some worms.”

  “I’m not sure Sophie likes fishing anymore,” she warned him.

  Truthfully, Austin was walking on eggshells where the girl was concerned. The one thing she didn’t want to have to worry about was having Heather’s daughter run away again.

  He shrugged. “Then we’ll improvise. Marines are known for their ability to improvise, adapt, overcome.”

  “And a lot more that probably isn’t G-rated enough to become a Corps motto.”

  “There is that.” He flashed that same wicked grin he’d given her just before he’d proven that he could make her scream. In the very best way. He played with the button between her breasts. “I’m sorry I ruined your shirt.”

  “I’m not.” Although there’d been quite a bit of clothes ripping in those books Jenna had given her, none of those fictional heroes could hold a candle to Sawyer Murphy. In any way. “I thought it was thrilling.”

  After having finally shared her feelings, Austin was surprised how easy it was to tell him everything. Just the way she had when they’d been growing up. She’d suspected that the sex between them would be good. Better than good, off the charts. But she’d never expected that it could crash through those emotional barriers they’d begun building that hot summer day when she’d caught him looking at her bra strap. Adolescence had brought more than physical changes; it had altered their relationship, making them all too aware of the differences in their genders.

  Now, having celebrated that difference, they were back to being best friends. With benefits.

  “What?” His question had her realizing she’d been grinning like a fool. Probably a blushing fool.

  “I was just thinking that, as horrible and sad as this time is, being with you has given my heart something to be happy about.”

  He skimmed a finger down her nose. “Back atcha, babe.”

  They still had so much to deal with. Including how they were going to co-parent, because, although they hadn’t gotten into the nuts and bolts about how all this was going to work, they were talking about a minimum of eleven years of hands-on parenthood. Not that family responsibilities ended when a child became eighteen. Look at her. Thirty-one years old and still living with her father. And wasn’t that just too pitiful for words?

  “I want to walk you back to the house, but I’m guessing that would be a no.”

  “I’d rather not have Dad and Dan’s hands witness my walk of shame,” she said lightly.

  “No.” His tone was strong and firm. Like it had been occasionally during their long night together. But on those occasions, she’d known he’d been playing a role. This, on the other hand, was totally real. Totally him. “There’s not an ounce of shame involved in what we did last night.”

  She laid a hand on his arm and felt the muscle tense. “It’s just a saying, Sawyer. A joke.”

  “Not entirely. If you don’t want anyone to see us.”

  She sighed. They were back to complications again. “It’s just that there’s already so much going on, and you know as well as I do that, as wonderful as River’s Bend is, there aren’t any secrets. At least not for long.”

  She crossed her hands over her heart. Then did the same over his. “I’d like to keep this just to ourselves for a while. I’m not ready for people to start dissecting our relationship.”

  “Ah. There’s that R word again.”

  “We do have one.” Damn. Did her voice actually go up on the end of that declaration? She’d sworn to herself, sometime between when he’d carried her to bed last night and the shower sex this morning, that she was not going to bring up what kind of future he was thinking of
.

  “We absolutely do.”

  “But we’re about to be scrutinized by some social worker who could make the argument that beginning a sexual relationship while taking on the care of two orphaned children could create stresses that wouldn’t be beneficial to their well-being.”

  “We’ll be sure they’re not hurt. But I suppose you do have a point about not risking complicating the custodial process. It would probably also be inappropriate for us to go around town grinning like jackasses when our best friends have just died.”

  “My heart’s still broken about that,” she said.

  “Mine, too.”

  “But there’s a part that’s so filled with happiness that I think it’s going to heal the broken part.”

  “Which is exactly what Tom and Heather would want,” Sawyer said. “Not just for their kids, who need for us to have full hearts right now, but for you and me. Because they never would’ve wanted us to go through life aching. Or ravaged by survivor guilt.”

  She tilted her head. His tone had changed. Deepened, not in a sexy way but heavy with emotion. She imagined he might know more than a little about survivor guilt. She also knew that this was not the time for an in-depth conversation and that Sawyer would tell her when the moment was right.

  “Gotta go,” she said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  “Absolutely.” He kissed her again, this time just a quick peck on the lips. “Have a safe trip.”

  “I will.”

  As she walked back toward the house she’d grown up in, it crossed Austin’s mind that, just days ago, neither of them would’ve given a thought about a trip along the lake and over the mountains, which they’d done all their lives, possibly being unsafe.

  Which was when she realized that from here on in, her life would consist of before the accident and after.

  She’d just reached the house when a familiar truck with a Be Nice, I Could Be Your Nurse Someday sticker on the back bumper pulled into the drive.

  “Hey.” Layla Longstreet jumped out of the driver’s seat. “I like your outfit. Boyfriend shirts are in these days, I hear.”