Texas Strong

by Jean Brashear

  He was shaking his head, and she could see him walking away any second, so she gambled and began unbuttoning her blouse.

  His whole big body jolted. “No. Don’t.” But his eyes never left her.

  “Are you going to make me get naked before you do what we both want?”

  At last his tortured gaze lifted. “And what is that?”

  Since he remained in place, she unbuttoned her waistband and began to let her skirt fall open. “Don’t make me get rough with you, big guy.”

  With relief she saw that the teasing tone skated past his rigid control. The corners of his mouth curved a little, even as he shook his head.

  But he didn’t move away. She was scared half to death, yet she would never let him know it. Her sense that everything was on the line here, any hope of a future, made her fingers tremble as she rose and knee-walked across the mattress, then unbuckled his belt.

  “Chrissy—” His hand stayed hers, and she wondered if she should give up.

  But she just couldn’t. He needed this. They needed it, whether or not he would admit it. She lifted her gaze, knowing her cheeks were burning. “Are you going to leave me alone in this, Tank? Are you going to continue as though we mean nothing to each other?”

  Shock flared. “No—it’s not—”

  He had to take the final step himself, or it was all for nothing. She let go and retreated across the mattress, lying back, exposed and reckless in a way that both thrilled her and made her painfully self-conscious. “I’m here with you, exactly where I want to be,” she said quietly. “Will you walk away from me?”

  He brushed a hand over his eyes. “No—God, no—” For a moment he simply stood still as a statue—

  While her heart withered. She closed her eyes to gather the strength to go.

  Suddenly the mattress dipped under his weight, but then movement stopped.

  She couldn’t look yet, for fear he’d go away again.

  Another dip, then a warm hand stroked her face from temple to chin. A finger painted the shape of her lips, and tears rushed to her eyes.

  “Look at me, sweetheart.” He said that first endearment with a gravelly throat. “Please.”

  She opened her eyes to see him kneeling beside her, his face a swirling mix of wonder and fear and something that looked like hope. “I’ve never made love before.” When her mouth dropped open in shock, he went on. “I mean—I’ve had sex, but…” His eyes never left hers. “I’ve never been with someone I loved before. I don’t know how to be as gentle as I should.”

  She reached for him then, touching his throat, his lips, his eyelids. “I won’t break, I promise.”

  “You’re so small. I could crush you.”

  She smiled and opened her arms. “Crush me, then. Let me be surrounded by you. I want that, Tank.”

  He settled at her side, stretching out, propped on one arm, the bandage on the other stark white against his skin. His bare chest was acres-huge, muscled and powerful.

  A part of her wanted to eat him up, but this was all too new, too fragile. She rose a little and placed her lips against his bandage. When his big body shuddered, she took his hand and placed it on her breast, feeling a little like a teenager new to passion.

  His fingers tightened on her breast, and it was her turn to shiver. She felt new to passion suddenly, and she wondered if he needed to hear that. “This is the first time for me, too. I’ve never felt this way before.” She kept her eyes on his. “You’re important, Tank. No one else has ever been important.”

  His hand slid around to her back, and he drew her into his chest, burying his face in her throat as they clung together, survivors of their pasts, hostages to their future, the future they would make here. Beginning now.

  Then he kissed her throat and began to work his way down her body. Big fingers unclasped her bra and spread it open. “You are so beautiful,” he said, his heated breath caressing her skin. His lips brushed over her nipple, then his tongue slicked the pebbled flesh and drew her into his mouth.

  She slid her hands over his hair, holding him to her, tears pressing against the backs of her eyes. The sensation was electrifying and wonderful, yes, but…it was so much more. As he moved over her body, baring her, caressing her, making her feel cherished and worshipped, something warm and bright and golden rose within her. “Tank…” she murmured.

  His gaze rose to hers, but his lips never paused.

  “Come to me. I need you.”

  Slowly he shook his head. “Not yet.” His hot breath painted over her belly, and the vulnerable man was replaced by a fierce and determined lover as he tormented her, taking his sweet time, letting his hands and his mouth speak in a secret language known only to the two of them.

  Until she was flying, lost in wonder and a sky-spun beauty she’d never experienced.

  At last he rose, standing to rid himself of all clothing, baring his body to her, that noble, battered body that had withstood so much pain. Had suffered so much.

  He was a warrior. In ancient times he would have been the champion, the gladiator, the knight who defended the realm.

  But as he came again to her and ranged his body over hers, his eyes said he was a man who was weary of battles, who only wanted to love her. Wanted her to love him.

  And she did. “This is it,” she vowed to him. “There will never be another for me.”

  Once more he was vulnerable to her, his eyes asking what his voice would not. Are you sure?

  “Come to me, my love. Make me yours. Belong to me.”

  An expression swept over him that she’d never seen, one of aching triumph, of grateful grace, of savage power tempered by a will that would forever protect her, honor her, guard her and keep her and her children safe. I want your babies, she thought but didn’t say aloud. He wasn’t ready yet.

  But that day would come. “I trust you,” she said as he poised to enter her. “I love you, Tank.”

  A fierce light came into his eyes. “You’re mine now—” And he thrust, making them one.

  “Yesss—” She arched into him, reveling, welcoming him, all of him.

  “Mine forever. I’ll give my life for you, Chrissy,” he promised.

  “Give me your heart and your days and nights instead,” she said as he began to move within her.

  “You’re everything I never dreamed I could deserve,” he said as he watched her. Made love to her with power and passion and a sweetness that tore at her heart.

  She raised herself up to kiss his lips, to caress the scars that were evidence of his courage. “Your heart is safe with me,” she said.

  “I believe that now.” Then he laid her down and gave her all of himself until the room flared golden and their hearts soared together, drifting into dreams.

  One at last.

  Epilogue

  Several months later

  Jake stood with Chrissy inside the home Tank had built for her. “You ready, little sister? You sure about this?”

  “He’s a good man, Jake. You told me you like him.”

  “I do, but I’m not sure anyone is good enough for you.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder as they waited to be told everyone was settled for the ceremony. “I’m so glad you and Big are here with me—even better, that you’re part of Sweetgrass now.”

  He patted the hand tucked into his elbow. “It’s a funny place, isn’t it? I feel sort of like a frontier doc—I never know when I get up in the morning whether I’m going to be dealing with a cowboy whose horse stepped on his foot or a baby with colic.”

  “Or Harley’s gout.”

  He chuckled. “Or Melba’s constant efforts to put the skinniest man I think I ever met on a diet.” He glanced down at her. “Laura’s so excited about the opening of Ruby’s Dream.”

  “So is Scarlett. The idea of only opening three nights a week and taking turns cooking was brilliant.”

  “As is closing the diner for dinner on those nights and sharing the staffs.”

&nb
sp; “Harley’s particularly proud of his idea to give residents a special price and hose the tourists.” She beamed up at him. “I’m just thrilled that you two are living here now.”

  Jake shook his head. “Who knew I’d like living above a storefront in a podunk little town?” He glanced around them at the master bedroom she’d soon share with her husband. “Tank did one hell of a job on this house.”

  “He did. He was blown away at how everyone pitched in.” She blinked rapidly. She would have married him right away and lived in a hut if need be, but he’d been determined to make things as perfect as possible for her, not only clearing away the old house and building this one, but entering counseling for survivors of abuse.

  Watching Tank be enfolded into the community for the first time had been one of the most wonderful things she’d ever witnessed. He’d been both awed and squirming as he struggled to come to grips with the acceptance of people who’d once reviled him. She sniffed back her tears.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. Your sister will have my head if you cry and your makeup runs. I mean it, kid. You stop that right this second.”

  She laughed despite her tears. “I love you, Jake.”

  “You can’t help yourself. I’m just that amazing.” He grinned, praying they’d avoided the cliff.

  “I used to think if only I could find your twin out there somewhere, I’d be so happy.” She sighed. “Tank isn’t your twin, not even a little. But he’s exactly right for me.”

  “He knows he’s the luckiest man in the world to have your love. You’ve worked a miracle, Chrissy. You fought for him when he’d given up on himself.” Then he couldn’t stop himself. “It won’t always be easy, you know that, right? That kind of damage runs deep. You can’t fix everything.”

  “I know that, but he’s working so hard and digging so deep because he’s determined not to be like his father. He’s not at all—there’s so much love inside him. Anyway, it’s not like I’m perfect. Together, though…” She beamed up at him. “It works.”

  “It does. I’ve never seen you happier.”

  “That’s Tank. And Sweetgrass. I guess all my misspent ways weren’t bad—if I’d never gone into that tattoo parlor and met Spike…”

  Just then, Ben Gallagher knocked on the door. “Aunt Chrissy? You ready?”

  Aunt Chrissy. Now she had even more family. “I’m so ready,” she answered.

  Jake pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Be happy, sweetheart.”

  “I am.” She looked around the room for which she’d chosen the colors, the warm beiges, the earthy greens, then smiled back at Ben and Jake.

  “Welcome to the family, Aunt Chrissy.”

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thank you very much.”

  “Let’s go find your guy,” Jake said. “And get you married.”

  “Big Theo?” Thad whispered, standing straight as a little soldier at Tank’s side, serving as Tank’s best man.

  “What, son?” Something stuttered in his chest with the knowledge that this funny little guy would be legally his son very soon. Darren Daniels’ loss, he figured, if the man could so easily sign away his rights. The man was a fool. These two kids were amazing.

  Thad beamed. “I meant Dad. Dad…” The boy looked really worried, and Tank froze.

  “Are you gonna cry?” Thad finished.

  Tank’s gaze whipped to the boy, but not before he heard Laura, standing on the other side of Judge Porter as Chrissy’s matron of honor, snicker while Judge Porter turned a chuckle into a cough.

  “Why would I cry?”

  The boy shrugged. “My mom’s gonna, you know she is. She already did.”

  Though this was hardly the venue, standing as they all were at the base of his ancient oak, the new home they would move into only yards away, Tank crouched in front of Thad. “Is she okay?”

  Thad screwed up his face. “She said they’re happy tears, but I don’t know how that makes any sense.”

  “Me, either. I think it’s a girl thing.”

  The boy rolled his eyes. “Girls are weird.”

  “Yeah, maybe, but one of these days, you’re going to think differently.”

  “No way, Big—Dad.”

  Just then Tank heard Walker Roundtree begin to strum his guitar.

  “Uh-oh,” Thad said. “Is this like talking in school, and we’re gonna be in trouble?”

  Tank couldn’t stifle a grin. This kid was such a kick. “We might be. We need to pay attention ’cause your mama is coming soon. Look—there’s Becky now, spreading flower petals.”

  “You better stand up, I guess, Big—um, Dad.”

  “Would you rather call me Big Theo?”

  “Nah. I do like it that we have the same first name, though, now that you’re gonna adopt me and all.” He slipped his hand into Tank’s big one as Tank rose.

  Tank couldn’t help gripping the boy’s hand a little harder when he spotted Chrissy. His breath stalled in his lungs, and he suddenly wasn’t at all sure he could live up to his promise to Thad. His eyes burned at the vision she made, smiling softly at him, gowned like a princess in that long white dress as she arrived on Jake’s arm, following the daughter he would also claim very soon.

  With the baby they’d made nestling safely beneath the lace, so tiny that only the two of them knew about it yet.

  He was scared to death. Alternately terrified and thrilled. Chrissy had no doubts about having his baby. He was doing everything he could to prove that his blood wasn’t tainted. That he could be different from the man who’d fathered him. She believed in him, and he was doing the work to earn that faith.

  Protectiveness surged through him as he looked at the three, soon four members of his family.

  His family.

  During all those dark years, he had never dared imagine this sort of good fortune for himself.

  A small sniffle off to his left drew his attention. Veronica, huge with the twins she was expecting, stood within Jackson’s protective embrace, tears falling over her lovely cheeks as she smiled at him. I love you.

  Tank nodded at her. I love you, sis. He was getting more comfortable with hearing that word. With saying it.

  Then Jake and Chrissy reached the simple altar that had been constructed by men he was slowly coming to think of as friends: Ian, Mackey, Michael, Bridger and Jackson. The town had pulled together to plan this wedding and, it appeared, to make amends.

  The specter of his father vanished a little more with each day that he’d labored on the home he’d built for Chrissy with the aid of the community assembled here.

  Judge Porter turned to him, and Tank let go of Thad, first turning to the boy. “Thank you for letting me share your mother, son.”

  Thad beamed. “No problem, Dad.” As always, his whisper was little less than a bellow, and the crowd tittered.

  Then Tank shook Jake’s hand. “I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

  “I know you will.” Jake dropped back and went to stand with his grown children on the front row.

  Tank looked at Chrissy. “One more second, okay?”

  Her eyes widened, but her smile was filled with trust. “All right.”

  He rounded to Becky, standing in front of her Aunt Laura. He went to one knee. “Thank you, Miss Becky, for letting me be part of your family.”

  Becky beamed and, not shy at all now, hugged him hard. “You’re welcome, Daddy.” He couldn’t get over how freely love could be given.

  She looked a little worried. “It’s okay to call you Daddy now?”

  Tank heard more than one throat clear, and he had to clear his own. “It’s the best thing ever.” She cuddled against him, and he held her there for minute. “I’m going to go marry your mama now, okay?”

  “Okay!” she answered brightly.

  Tank rose, accepted Laura’s hug—this family couldn’t seem to do enough hugging, and he was getting used to all the touching. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “You’re ours now.”
Laura kissed his cheek, then released him.

  He resumed his place beside the dainty princess who’d fought with the heart of a lion past all his barriers and shattered his loneliness.

  “You ready?” she said with a wink.

  “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.” He took her hand in his, and they faced Judge Porter.

  “Dearly Beloved,” began the stately old man.

  Tank tried to look at the judge as was proper, but his gaze kept drifting toward Chrissy. He was half afraid all of this was a dream and she’d vanish if he didn’t keep his eyes on her.

  Fortunately, she wasn’t watching the judge either. She squeezed his fingers, and he squeezed back.

  I love you, she mouthed.

  I love you, too, he answered, wondering if he’d ever get used to feeling happy.

  “Ahem. Theodore?” Judge Porter broke into his musings.

  A small hand tugged at his pants. “That’s you, Dad. Better pay attention, or you might get in trouble.”

  Laughter rolled through the crowd, and Tank knew he had to drag his gaze from the face he loved most in the world. First, though, he winked at Chrissy, and she smiled back.

  “Where is a set of handcuffs when you need them?” she muttered.

  He knew he was making a fool of himself, but he grabbed her up and hugged her close, overcome by his good fortune. She’d brought not only love but laughter into his life. Sunshine and hope. He would never be able to tell her. He kissed her and tasted her tears while she brushed at his.

  “Okay.” He exhaled in a gust. He set her on her feet, but he snugged her up against his side. “Sorry, Judge.”

  Judge Porter only smiled. “I’m getting used to unruly brides and grooms around here, son.” Then the old man clasped Tank’s shoulder. “A mighty fine day, and about time, I say, that the Patton name claimed its proper place again in this town.” Then he harrumphed and looked as though he wished he had a gavel. “All right now, folks, let’s get these two married.”