“Why?”
He smiled. She knew damn well why. “Because I like the way you feel against me.”
Her thigh slid across his as her arms came around his neck. “You do, huh?”
He pulled her groin to his. She wiggled them into better alignment, notching his cock into her heat.
“Oh yeah.”
Her head tipped back. “What else do you like about me?”
“Fishing?”
“Blatantly.”
He chuckled and linked his hands in the small of her back, with his fingertips pulling up the material bunched there so he could rest his fingers on the top of her rear. “I love the way you lead with your heart.”
“You think that’s a plus?”
“I think it’s a big plus.”
Her smile flowed more naturally. “What else?”
He pressed her in, arching her back so her breasts thrust up and out. Beneath the material of her dress, her nipples peaked. “I love the way you keep your head in a crisis.” He kissed her forehead. “The way you can make me laugh when I’m feeling my worst.” He let his lips linger on her eyelids before seeking the softness of her cheek. “I love the way your eyes crinkle when you’re amused, the way you bite your lip when you worry.” The corner of her mouth beckoned next. “I love the way you curl your toes when you’re about to tell a joke, and the way you blink to hide tears.” Her lips pursed against his, asking for the kiss he’d give her in a heartbeat. He’d give her a thousand kisses. He skimmed his fingertips up her back, over her shoulders. “I love the fact that you’re not afraid to cry, to laugh, to kick up a fuss.” He cupped her face in his hands. Her blue eyes were shining again, but the emotion behind the tears couldn’t be mistaken for anything but happiness. “I love you, Allie Sanders, to hell and back.”
He caught the tear that fell with his lips, the salty flavor spicing his tongue with the reality of how much he really did. “And if you don’t agree to throw your lot in with mine, lock, stock, and barrel, I’m going to—”
“What?” she interrupted, sitting up straight, all sass and irrepressible humor. “You’re going to what?”
Ah, a challenge. He mated his lips to hers, upper to lower, edge to edge. “I’m going to keep you in bed until you agree to whatever I want.”
Her eyebrows rose. Her tongue wet her lips, touching his, lingering in a tiny tease before she pulled a fraction away. “And that’s my incentive to agree?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Sounds like more of a reason to resist.”
He shook his head. “Nah, I’m at my most inventive when I’m happy.”
“Now that boggles the mind.”
Her kiss didn’t indicate a boggled state. It was passionate, intense, and singed his short hairs. But when he would have increased the depth, she pulled back, slowly separating her mouth from his, her mind from his. He let her get as far as his hand, his fingers naturally conforming to the shape of her head as he held her in place. “No more hiding. Whatever it is, we deal with it.”
She bit her lip and grew serious. Her hands dropped between them, cradling her stomach. “Keeping me around is going to complicate things. There are people still after me. People who won’t mind hurting your family and friends to get what they want.”
She still thought of herself as an outsider. “You still thinking you’re somehow not family?”
“It’s not the same.”
No. It wasn’t. What he felt for her was stronger. Deeper.
He cupped his palm over hers. “Baby, whether you choose to stay or leave, one thing is for sure. No one gets to you without going through me.”
“If the baby is healthy, it might be hunted, too.”
He couldn’t do anything about her fears as to the baby’s health but share them. Her other fear he could address. “They can try all they want, but they won’t succeed. The Johnsons protect what’s theirs.”
“You’re sure?”
He slapped her exposed buttock, absorbing her start at the hot little sting, smiling when she arched her back as the warmth settled into her center. He placed his fingers deliberately over the spot. She jumped as if he’d spanked her again; the flicker of disappointment in her eyes when she realized he was just going to hold her nudged his libido up a notch. “I’m sure.”
The worry faded from her expression. Her head canted to the side as mischief filled the void. Her palms slid up his chest, their heat searing through the cotton of his shirt. “So, pretty much, you’re saying I’m stuck with you either way.”
“Pretty much.”
Buttons came undone under her nimble fingers. “Forever?”
“Oh, yeah.” A cross of her arms, a wiggle that had him dodging her elbows, and her dress went flying across the room, a red flag of warning to anyone who thought to repress that wild spirit. “I like the sound of that.”
He stared at her breasts, fascinated as pink color flushed the plump mounds. “So do I.”
She spread his shirt wide. “Know what I like the sound of even better?”
“What?” He closed his fingers around her right breast as he ran his tongue just inside the edge of her lip, teasing the lining, absorbing her shudder in his palm as she pressed closer.
She caught her breath on a sweet moan. “Allie Johnson.”
“Hmm.” He pretended to consider it as he nibbled her lower lip. “I kind of like this living in sin thing. Adds a certain spice to the relationship.”
“Really?” She tucked her breasts into his caress and wiggled that delightful ass as she sat back. “I thought things had gotten a bit monotonous.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to liven it up.”
“With what?”
He reached into his back pocket and felt the small circle of gold he’d taken from his dresser earlier. His mother’s ring. Another bit of his past. Not much to look at, just a simple band carved with care, but imbued with all the love and hope of his parents. Hope for the future that had set them journeying across this country with little more than the clothes on their backs. Hope they’d passed on to their children. Hope he’d carried in his heart for two hundred fifty years despite the logic that said it was impossible. Hope that Allie, with her irrepressible humor and belief, had brought into the light and made shine again. He took the ring out, keeping it tucked into his palm as he took her left hand in his. She bit her lip and met his gaze, the blue of her eyes deepening, her expression softening.
“I love you, Caleb.”
There weren’t words to express what hearing those words meant to him, what she meant to him. And that just made what he was doing more right.
They couldn’t be more committed to each other, and the words of a preacher weren’t going to make them any more bonded, but Allie was right in her insistence on the traditions that married past with present. Keeping them alive kept everything in perspective. He slid the ring on her finger, smiling when she just had to help him get it over the knuckle even though he wasn’t experiencing difficulty. Not because it was too small, not because she didn’t believe he couldn’t do it, but because she needed to be an active part of things. It was who she was. A big part.
The ring settled into place. He rubbed his finger over the gold, a smile tugging at his mouth as she realized what she’d done, looking unnecessarily embarrassed when he wouldn’t have her any other way. Caleb squeezed her fingers before easing her back into his embrace as he brought her closer to his kiss, to his heart. His lips brushed hers. They parted on a sigh. A soft feminine welcome that he took into his soul, letting it bond with the bone-deep desire welling out of soul-deep contentment. This was his woman. The other half to his soul. The missing part he never thought he’d find. He tilted her head a fraction to the right with a touch of his thumb, giving her his kiss and his heart as he breathed, “Marry me, Allie.”
Sarah McCarty has traveled extensively, living in other cultures, sometimes in areas where electricity was a concept awaiting fruition and a book was an extreme luxury.
While she could easily adjust to the lack of electricity, living without the comfort of a good book was intolerable. To fill the void, she bought pencil and paper and sketched out her own stories. In the process, Sarah discovered the joy of writing.
Sarah writes what she loves to read—fast-paced stories with vivid dialogue, intense emotion, and well-developed characters. Her attention to detail in her stories has earned her multiple awards and reserved her novels a spot on keeper shelves everywhere.
Sarah writes for Ellora’s Cave, Harlequin Spice, Berkley Heat, and Berkley Sensation. Visit her website at www.sarahmccarty.net.
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