by McCade's Way
Feeling a prickle of unease, she looked up and blushed as their eyes met. He put his hat back on, their gaze still locked. Her heart skipped a beat as she wished she could read his mind. He took a step toward the house, and she held her breath. Cole must have said something to him because he turned suddenly and looked up. As silly as it sounded, Gen missed his gaze. She stepped down off the stool and moved onto the next window.
His words from the night before haunted her. She’d thought of little else all day as she’d determinedly set about giving the house a thorough cleaning from top to bottom. She still couldn’t pinpoint what she’d done to anger him. Though he’d been tired and cross with Cole, there was no denying she’d done or said something on the porch that had lit his fuse. Then it had been stupid on her part to try lying on the poor man after he’d been working hard all day. How many times had her parents said that she just didn’t think before speaking or acting?
Sighing, she wiped the window frame down before spraying the vinegar and water on the glass and picking up a clean towel. Her mother had always said it didn’t matter who was at fault, it was a woman’s place to make peace. She wished her mama was here to tell her how to do that. A pensive little smile curved her lips. In the absence of her mother Adrienne would surely know how to make a man happy again. Men fell at that girl’s feet. If Trey thought she was passable, she couldn’t imagine what he’d think of her breathtaking friend. She snorted. Adrienne wouldn’t have spent a lonely night hugging the mattress. Gen bit her lip, her eyes drifting to Trey’s broad back. How could one night of sleeping cradled to him have left her with such an ache?
Trey looked at the mouthwatering hot pork sandwich and mashed potatoes slathered in gravy and glanced back to his wife. She’d changed dresses since he’d seen her in the window. The pale green was flattering with her coloring, and the fit had him remembering why he’d bought it. Picking up his fork, he dug in. It was a hell of a lunch. Maybe she did want this to work. Or she really wants something. He grimaced at the whisper in his ear and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease tired muscles and the tension creeping in.
She set a glass of cold milk beside his plate before stepping back. He flinched as her hands curved around the top of his shoulders. Slowly, she started to knead, her thumbs digging deep into rigid muscle. His eyes drifted shut, and his exhale was half moan. A good shoulder rub was like a hard day’s work; it hurt so good. He smiled. How many times had he heard his daddy say those words? She seemed to know right where to press, and he felt his dominate right shoulder start to loosen. He took another bite, grunting his pleasure of food and massage alike.
His belly full, Trey finally reached up and laid a hand over fingers trembling with strain. Pulling her hand to his lips, he gave it a soft kiss. “Thank you, darlin'.”
“You’re welcome,” she whispered. He could hear the blush in her voice. “Would you like more?”
He shook his head, not sure if she meant food or massage, but it didn’t matter. He stood, keeping a hold of her hand. Her pretty grey eyes were unsure as they widened. He tugged lightly, and she timidly stepped to him. Capturing her lips, he took his time claiming them until she melted against him, her heart hammering against his ribs. His hand slid down her spine, his big paw molding the curve of her ass possessively. She whimpered against his lips, her free hand closing in the back of his shirt. He savored her until the strain on his zipper was uncomfortable. With a low rumble of regret, he straightened up.
She clung to him, eyes glassy and lips kiss swollen. He ran a thumb over the bottom one. She kissed the pad of his thumb gently and he smiled.
“As much as I’d like to stay and dally with my pretty wife, I have work to do. Thanks for a great lunch and the shoulder rub, darlin'. I’m looking forward to the end of the day and dessert,” he said, his deep voice dropping on the last word as he gave her a wink.
Her cheeks colored even more, but it was the width of her smile that he’d carry with him the rest of the day. He headed back to work, his mood lighter. The fact obviously didn’t escape Cole, and they didn’t make it to the barn before his younger brother felt the need to weigh in.
“You really are a piece of work. It’s no wonder you don’t go into town. You’re probably worried they’re going to slap a strait jacket on you and cart you off to the loony bin. What in the hell was that?”
“With my popularity I’m surprised they don’t lock me in the bell tower,” Trey said rolling his eyes. “And it’s called making up. I told you to stay the hell out of my marriage.”
“It’s like a train wreck. I can’t look away. Besides, with your record with women I’d think you’d take all the advice you can get.”
“I don’t need advice from you. I don’t see you married.”
“That’s because your first foray into the institution still gives me nightmares.”
“You and me both,” Trey snorted.
Stepping from the shower, Trey dried his hair vigorously and then secured the towel around his hips. Finger combing the tangled mane into some semblance of order, he secured it in a ponytail and headed for the bedroom. Dinner had been excellent. His new wife knew how to cook. The apple pie she’d baked had been perfect and his mouth was already watering thinking about the apple cinnamon coffee cake she had planned for the morning. If Catherine had fed him like this maybe he wouldn’t have begrudged her running up his accounts in town. On top of that, the house gleamed from top to bottom. If she wanted to make up, who was he to argue? He was a happy man.
Pausing in the doorway, he admired his wife’s slender shape as she dashed around the end of the bed and bounced onto the mattress like a naughty child. Her face flushed scarlet when she spotted him watching her. She bit her lip.
“I laid out pajamas for you.”
“Thank you, darlin', but I won’t be needing those for a while,” he drawled.
Gen giggled, and he couldn’t help but grin. She didn’t laugh enough. It was a beautiful sound. He strolled toward the bed, dropping his towel as he went. Gen pulled the quilt up to her nose until only her sparkling grey eyes peeked out at him. Her eyes darted below where his belt buckle would’ve been, and his grin widened with her eyes. Tugging the quilt away from her, he wiggled his finger at her. She scooted across the bed, and he slowly pushed her nightgown up until it bunched under her breasts. She shyly crossed her arms over her chest, and he shook his head.
“Lift your arms, darlin'.”
There was a little tremble in her limbs, but she obeyed him and he stripped the shift away, tossing it to the floor. His eyes ran over her naked body for the first time in the light. Though a tall woman, she was far from manly, or even the plain she had professed. She was slender with small breasts and pale nipples. The soft flare of her hips cradled a bright copper triangle of curls. He’d already experienced the pleasure there. It was her long legs that lit his fire. She had gorgeous gams.
He could track the trail of his gaze by the flush of her skin. He reached out and slowly stroked a hand from her ankle over the beautiful curve of her calf and up her smooth thigh. He continued the trek, following the flare of her hip and then splaying his hand over her concave stomach.
“You’re a lovely lass, darlin'. Don’t ever doubt that,” he mumbled, wishing he had the words to say it right and make her believe.
Her blush deepened and she couldn’t meet his eyes. He could see her muscles tense as he crawled onto the bed. The shift of the mattress rocked her against him, and her fingers shook on his shoulder as she steadied herself. Pressing her back into the pillows he followed her down loving the feeling of her cool skin against him. Her legs had parted for him this time, and he settled into the cradle of her hips with a groan. Rocking against her, he watched her face. Her eyes were so expressive. They flared wide, lightening to lovely silver. She blinked and pulled back; pressing into the mattress to ease the contact but that was inconsistent with the pretty gasp on her lips or the gouge of her nails in his shoulders.
Brushing
his lips over hers, he drew a low whimper from her throat.
“Are you afraid, darlin'?”
She shook her head shyly, but her breath was short and her heart hammered against him. Shifting his weight to his left arm, he slid his hand between them to tease at the apex of her legs. A grin quirked his lips as he discovered her wet for him. Hallelujah. Sliding a finger into her, he captured her lips again, mumbling encouragement as he kissed her and thrust his finger in and out smoothly. Her hips rocked up into his hand, brushing against his arousal. He rubbed against her thigh, growling into her mouth as he deepened the kiss.
Her head jerked back as his tongue swept aggressively between her lips. He managed to cup her jaw with his left hand and held her head still, kissing her the way he wanted to. It didn’t take long for her soft tongue to dart forward and dance with his. Her nails dug into his back as he moved to position himself at her opening. They gouged deep as he filled her, but the clutch of her fingers was encouraging.
Her cries were soft and breathless, eyes wide as he rocked slowly, building a rhythm. His earlier weariness aches and pains were forgotten. Keeping his movements long and slow, he helped build his bride’s desire. Taking things slow with her wasn’t a hardship. He felt like he could make love to her for days. Damn, she was beautiful with her pale skin flushed and lips parted in desire. Acceptance was sexy. Kissing her again, he pushed deep, loving the clasp of her body and hands. She moaned in approval, body jerking up to meet him. Her legs came around him to ease the way and he thrust hard, losing himself in the desire to claim this woman and mark her as only his. The bed springs squawked in violent protest as he slammed into her. Soft cries ripped from her with every thrust. Her head thrashed back and forth in desperate denial, but his name and a simple plea fell from her lips.
“Come on, darlin',” he whispered, his voice harsh with need and exertion.
His eyes fell closed in triumph when her scream rang unchecked, and her slender body bucked wildly underneath him. Gripping her tight, he plunged into her until the roar of his blood drowned out everything and his back bowed in savage release.
Her long fingers were sliding through his damp hair when he came back to himself. He didn’t know how long he’d lain there, but his breathing was slowing. Turning onto one shoulder, he looked down at his wife. Gen offered a little smile, her grey eyes running over his face as if seeking answers. He didn’t have any for her. He wasn’t even sure what the questions were. Feeling vulnerable under her gaze, he rolled out of bed and offered his hand.
“Let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep.”
She took his hand and followed him into the hall. He looked back at a little giggle. Her free arm was crossed self-consciously over her body, trying to protect her modesty. He smiled.
“There’s no one here but us, darlin', and I’ve done seen it and more.”
She laughed and pressed close to his back, using him as a shield against unknown eyes. He shook his head and turned into the bathroom. He let her wash up and then took his turn. He jerked at a touch to his ponytail. She pulled the tie loose and ran her fingers through it. He tensed, trying to see her face in the mirror. Was this going to turn into a lecture on the latest styles and fashions? He sighed. He really didn’t give a damn.
“May I brush it for you when we get back to the bedroom?” she asked, peeking around his side at him.
He blinked at her in the mirror. Her expression seemed sincere. He shrugged.
“If you wanna.”
Her lips curled, and she tried to hide a smile against his ribs. His eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“Don’t be mad,” she said, giving him that cute calf-eyed look women used. “I love your southern accent. It’s just more pronounced on certain words or combinations.”
“Like what?”
“A New Yorker would have said if you want to, but your sexy drawl runs it together to if you wanna.”
He eyed her in the mirror for a long moment. A slight smile still graced her lips and her eyes were that damn silver again.
“You think it’s sexy, huh? Most big city types think I sound like an uneducated hick.”
Her hands stroked over his ribs. He caught his breath as one slid in front to stroke around his navel. Her hand froze, and she jerked it back before he could catch it.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, spinning for the door and breaking the spell.
His hand shot out and grabbed her elbow. She flinched, but didn’t try to break away from him.
“Sorry for what, and you didn’t answer my question.”
She didn’t look at him. Her toe traced the grout line on the tile floor. Shaking her head, she visibly struggled for words.
“I’m not a whore,” she croaked out.
“I never said you wer—” his angry protest died on his lips. He had. He felt his face color in shame. His mama would be sorely ashamed of him. He sighed. She jumped when he reached over and slammed the lid down on the toilet. Sitting down on it, he pulled her stiff form into his lap. “I owe you an apology. That was uncalled for. I was tired and grouchy, and thinking of someone else and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
Her shoulder lifted in a little shrug.
“I understand if you aren’t ready to accept my apology, but I hope you know it’s sincere.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry if I intruded on memories of Catherine.”
“Some things just don’t fade as fast as others, and that woman left behind some triggers,” he admitted.
She shivered, and he boosted her easily to her feet. Neither said anything as they made their way back to the bedroom and retrieved their night clothes. He scratched his scalp, giving his wavy mane a toss and looked around for a tie.
“May I brush it out for you?”
He turned to look at her. She was kneeling in the middle of the bed with her hairbrush in hand. He hesitated, glancing around the room. What in the hell would Cole say if he saw him getting his hair brushed like a little girl on Sunday morning? He cleared his throat and looked back at her.
“I love your hair. I have to admit that I’m envious,” she said with a little laugh.
“Of this mop?” he asked with a snort.
“It has beautiful natural wave to it. My hair is carrot orange and straight as a stick. Even curlers don’t do a thing for it.”
“It’s pretty, like a shiny copper penny in the sun. I like it.”
“Are you serious?” she asked, her expression somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
“Were you serious about my drawl?”
She nodded, and he nodded back with a little wink. She blushed and giggled, then leaned forward and patted the mattress on his side of the bed. He glanced toward the door again and shrugged. Sitting down with his back to her, he waited while she crawled across the bed. Her hands were gentle as she started brushing out the tangles. He vaguely remembered his mama doing the same when he was little. Cut short, his hair was a mess of wild curls. The shit grew fast so it was either cut it every couple of weeks or grow it out. He’d discovered when he was out west that if he let it grow long enough, the weight of the stuff straightened out the damn curls. Fashion be damned, it was easier this way. His eyes closed in contentment as she worked her magic. Like the shoulder rub, he could get used to this.
A yawn finally brought the moment to an end. Gen carefully tied his hair back and surprised him with a kiss on the back of his shoulder.
“Thank you,” he mumbled through another yawn and reached for the light.
“It was my pleasure.”
He waited until she’d put the brush away and scrambled back in bed before he turned off the bedside lamp. Stretching out, he bit back a groan. It had been a long day, physically and emotionally. He nearly snorted at that second bit. Women were not easy. He knew that from his first go around, but he’d decided to try it again and he owed it to Gen to try and make things work. It wasn’t Gen’s fault Catherine was gone. This was a chance at a fres
h start for both of them.
She shifted on the other side of the bed, and it felt like she was shivering. Remembering the cool touch of her skin earlier, he reached out for her.
“Come here if you’re cold.”
She wiggled across the bed, and he wrapped her into the crook of his arm.
“Better?”
She nodded, giving his chest a grateful kiss.
“Are you always this warm?”
“I guess.”
She made a soft humming noise of approval. He chuckled.
“I’m glad you approve. You know there’re more blankets in the chest.”
“If you don’t mind, I’m really happy right here for tonight.”
“Tonight, tomorrow night, I don’t mind.” He smiled in the dark and shook his head. Not that he was going to admit it to her, but he liked her curled up to him. It appealed to his manly side. He snorted in the dark, and he could feel her face tilt up toward his. He patted the curve of her bottom in reassurance. When he didn’t say anything, she nuzzled his chest and settled back in. Closing his eyes, he sent up an awkward prayer. I’d been a while since he’d tried it, but it couldn’t hurt. Maybe his mama would put in a good word for him.
Chapter Five
Gen hesitated with the full basket of damp laundry. The past three days had been as close to wedded bliss as she could imagine. Still working long hours to try and take advantage of the mild weather, Trey had been warm and charming at night. She bit her lip. Brutus stood up on the porch, watching her. What Trey hadn’t done, was reverse his order that she not leave the house. He’d been walking up for lunch when a salesman had come up the drive the other day. Trey met him before he made the porch. When she’d opened the door in curiosity, her husband’s voice had been harsh when he ordered her back inside.