Wild Horses: Cold Cold Winter
Page 3
“Look,” Gus continued when Adam didn’t say anything, “I want to see you and Dani work it out. She’s practically my goddaughter and you’re as close to a son as I’ve had since my boy passed away, besides Dewey. But you planned this before her and there’s no reason you can’t now.”
No, there wasn’t, really. Her plans didn’t have to change his. But he’d wondered, even fleetingly, what it might’ve been like to take some time off and go with her. If he could keep up, if he could stand the silliness of it for any length of time. He wouldn’t ignore his responsibilities, wouldn’t leave Gus in a lurch, but he had money sitting in his bank account, both from salary savings and from some inheritance after his sister’s death. He could take some of it and perhaps travel with her.
If she wanted him.
And the more his stomach twisted, the more he felt like maybe she didn’t. Or maybe the time apart would be good—maybe they needed this. She’d come back, and everything would be okay.
Maybe.
But his trepidation in their relationship had always centered around the fact that he didn’t think she was as sure about him as he was about her, and that afternoon had pretty much confirmed it.
“But if you don’t want—” Gust started, but Adam shook his head.
“I do. I want to see that house built. And the stables.” And staring at the paper in front of me isn’t going to speed that along.
Adam reached forward and drew the contract to the edge of the desk, grasped the pen, and scrawled his name next to the yellow “Sign Here” tag at the bottom of the paper, then added the date. He set the pen down and leaned back in his chair once more.
It was done—Dewey had signed as witness twenty minutes ago when Gus had, having left the room when he sensed a discussion was coming. This was done, though. Adam was now the owner of a good several acres of land.
But he didn’t feel any better.
“Talk to her,” Gus advised as he dragged the contract over in front of him. “Get this sorted out. No one wants you moping about over the holidays.”
Adam gave a half-hearted attempt at a wry smile, but didn’t think Gus bought it any more than he himself did. “No moping, I promise.”
Gus nodded at the door. “Go.”
With a sigh, Adam rose and started from the room. It would be best to drive into town before the roads got too bad.
Especially as he figured he wouldn’t be spending the night out and would need to drive home again once they finally spoke.
Chapter Four
Adam sat on the step outside of Danyiah’s apartment building alone as the snow drifted down.
Her car was in the parking lot but the lights in her windows were off. He almost drove back again but had thought perhaps she went to the store around the corner, so he brushed snow from the concrete and sat down to wait.
Half an hour ago.
Now despite his heavy winter coat and gloves, he was shivering from the cold. The collar of his jacket came up to partially cover his face and gave him some shelter, but he frequently had to shake off the snow gathering on his head. He’d forgotten his cell phone back at the farm and hadn’t expected her to take that long, but if she didn’t show up soon...
He did have a key to her place but he’d only used it twice: once when they stumbled upstairs from a visit to the pub and she couldn’t find hers, and the second to let himself in when she texted that she was waiting in the tub for him. It still seemed weird, just walking into her personal space. Dani had no trouble doing that to him, as evidenced by the giant moose still in his room—and he had no bloody idea how the hell she got it in there or how he’d easily get it out—and the decorations everywhere. So if she didn’t show up soon, he’d probably end up sitting there until he’d turned into a block of ice.
The sky was navy blue with the texture of clouds, growing darker by the minute. Adam crossed his arms and rested them on his knees, and blew out a breath of air that drifted in a white haze above him.
A figure drew his attention, crossing at the lights. She walked with her head down, long, wavy black hair collecting flakes of snow, her face buried in a bright purple scarf that covered her nose. She rushed just as the crosswalk warned to stop and turned down her street toward him.
Ten steps away, Dani looked up at him and froze.
Adam stood slowly, part of him happy to finally be moving while the rest of him was so cold he had trouble standing. He blew out another breath and shivered as she approached.
Dani gazed up at him, peeking over her thick scarf. “How long have you been waiting?”
It felt like years but he lied. “Not long.”
“Your nose is purple.”
Hell, it could’ve fallen off—it wasn’t like he could feel it.
“And you’re shaking pretty bad.”
Maybe he should’ve waited in his truck—hypothermia wasn’t going to help any of their problems. “Want to go inside?”
“Oh. Right.” She blinked like that had just occurred to her and trudged ahead of him, stepping up the handful of concrete stairs and bringing out her keys to jangle in her hand. She unlocked the security door and held it open for him.
The building’s front hall wasn’t much warmer than outside—he could still see his breath—but the air was less damp. Dani swiftly moved up the narrow stairs, and he followed. The higher they climbed, the more his skin started to thaw and soon his flesh stung and burned; suddenly sitting out in the cold didn’t seem quite so bad.
Dani stopped at the second floor landing and they went down the hall to her apartment. “I’m sorry, I went over to Tash’s for a bit.”
“It’s okay, I should’ve called.”
She paused at the door to unlock it and spared a glance over her shoulder at him. “You could’ve just come in to wait. Dumbass.”
The smile she offered him was strained and he looked away, tension rising between them. They avoided one another’s eyes as they walked into her apartment.
All the decorating she’d done in his place would’ve fit in better at hers; her walls were painted pale blue, her couch bright yellow with mismatched pillows, and she had lines of paper lanterns around the ceiling as well. Her decor was cheery and girly without being frilly, and against his better judgment, he tried to imagine what it would be like mashing their styles—or her style and his lack of one—together in decorating a home together.
Probably more fighting. And blogging.
He slipped off his boots by her door then his jacket and gloves, as she unwound the scarf from around her neck and stowed her coat on a hook behind the door. The silence was thick and awkward, punctuated only by the sound of cars on the main road outside and the occasional rattle from her radiator. The one bedroom apartment was cozy, at least—welcoming even if he wasn’t entirely sure she wanted him there right then. Adam took a seat on the couch while she rounded the corner for the kitchen.
“Want some tea or hot chocolate or something?” she called.
“Sure.” He flexed his fingers; they were bright red and burning in the heat, but the feeling was returning at least, and pain was better than numbness.
Sounds drifted out, of Dani running water and riffling through the cupboards. She returned a few minutes later, her steps hesitant as she approached. Her hands were knotted together in front of her again, fidgeting as she had back at his place, and her shoulders slouched—the entire change in demeanor wasn’t like her at all, nervous energy nearly palpable in the air.
She took a breath and continued on, an attempt at a half-smile curving her lips again. “Do you want me to turn up the heat, or—”
“No. I’m fine.”
Dani reached him, and though he expected her to take the seat at his side, instead she paused only briefly, knees brushing his, then climbed forward. His arms parted, accepting her and her warmth as she crawled into his lap, her knees sliding to either side of his hips. When she’d settled against him, he closed his arms again but this time around her, and she sig
hed against his shoulder.
“I don’t like this,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by his T-shirt.
He ran his hands up and down her back, feeling her melt further against him with each passing second, and twinging with a mix of hurt and guilt. “Me either.”
Her fingers trailed his sides lightly and his chin rested on the top of her head, her presence seeming to soothe some of the ache in him since she’d stormed off hours earlier.
“You’re still cold.” Dani snuggled into him and his body heated, hardened in response. She replied to the familiar, unspoken invitation, and rolled her hips downward.
Adam stifled a groan. “Dani—”
She shifted, raising her face to his; her eyes were heavy-lidded, dark with desire as she gazed up at him. Her lips were close, breath mingling with his. “I don’t want to fight.”
He didn’t either—he wanted to talk. But words were slipping fast from his mind as his blood ran hot. There was just her, the scent of soap clinging to her skin, the silk of her hair brushing his shoulders, her warmth scorching him. He gripped her hips as she ground against him, her chest brushing his.
“Just kiss me,” she whispered.
Their noses touched, then her lips came down, caressing his, a soft moan escaping her. The kiss deepened until their tongues tangled and she pulled at his T-shirt, her hands tracing every inch of flesh she bared.
For a moment he cursed his own weakness; no one had ever made him lose all sense like this, all reason, all logic. But Dani’s effect on him was instantaneous as always. He drew her shirt up and that seemed to ignite her; she tore at his as well, jerking the fabric until she had him divested of it. He cast hers aside as well and ran his hands up her sides, his mouth leaving hers so he could lean back and trail his gaze downward to take in the blue lace bra cupping her ample breasts and thrusting them high. Her chest heaved, a shimmer of sweat glistening on her skin, and her nipples pebbled, dark and visible beneath the lace.
Once more his gaze dragged back up to her face, rounded and pretty, eyes with thick long lashes, and mouth full and inviting. His left hand ran up her back, her neck, to grip the back of her head as he watched her. She was everything he’d ever wanted, more than he could have ever hoped for, like some beautiful dream he was about to wake up from.
He could take her to the bedroom, tie her down, make her writhe and moan for hours, but a sense of urgency gripped him, like if they waited, the spell would break. Instead he pulled her to him and kissed her hard. She shivered under his touch, arching into him as he slipped her bra straps down and let the cups fall. His lips descended, tasting her jaw, her throat, kissing and nipping his way lower.
“Adam.” His name came out in a half sob, half groan as he cupped her breasts, teasing, claiming. Over six months, he’d grown to know and taste, every part of her, and knew the little sigh she’d make as his thumbs traced circles around her nipples, knew how her nails digging into his shoulders said her need matched his own.
Despite the layers of denim between them, his cock was hard, almost painful, and definitely ready, held by her heat as she rubbed against him. He slid one hand between them to pop the button on her jeans, then tore down the zipper.
She was panting, quivering, her voice laced with urgency. “Adam—”
The words ceased, faded into a moan as his fingers dipped down, past the fly of her jeans. He touched her through her lace panties, moist warmth meeting his fingertips immediately as he traced her slit.
Usually they talked. Teased. Dared one another. But he couldn’t find words, couldn’t feign playfulness; he just wanted to see her come undone in bliss, forgetting everything that had transpired earlier. His fingers ran back up then down, delving past the waistband of her underwear.
She gripped his shoulders, threw her head back, and rode his hand with lips parted and eyes closed. He thrust two fingers inside her and his thumb brushed her clit, immediately finding their rhythm as he read her breaths and movements. His cock pressed against his jeans, aching to be inside her, to seek release with her, but instead he focused on her pleasure.
Her hands came up to sink into his hair as she rocked against him, lips found his in a long, searing kiss. She whimpered against his mouth as his fingers moved faster, deeper, driving her into a frenzy as she neared orgasm.
“Come for me, Dani,” he whispered.
“Adam,” she cried against his lips, his name fading into a breathy sigh as her body tightened and back arched. She shuddered, pussy clenching his fingers as she collapsed in his arms. Panting and shaking, she buried her head against his shoulder and he slid his hand from between her legs to hold her close.
Minutes passed and he closed his eyes, listening to her breathing slow and feeling the trembling of her body gradually cease. She didn’t move, instead remaining pliant and soft in his embrace. He was still hard, his erection completely unaware of where his mind was, but he didn’t push for more and neither did she.
He sensed her about to speak before she did, like the air took on an expectant quality, though several more seconds passed.
“Why didn’t that feel like make-up sex?” she whispered.
Adam ran his hand over her hair, down her back. “Because it wasn’t.”
More silence, then her voice came out shaky and soft. “What was it, then?”
The words hovered on his lips. “I think it was taking-a-break sex.”
Danyiah shifted in his arms to meet his gaze, her lower lip trembling and a sheen already catching her eyes. “I don’t actually need to go—”
“Yeah,” he tucked waves of sweat-damp hair behind her ear as he studied her eyes, “you do. It’s a big deal and a good opportunity. I’m not going anywhere.” The land deal and house plans nearly followed, but he held back. He didn’t want to influence or guilt her at all. “So if you come back—”
She sat back farther, leaning against his arms, her bra half off though she seemed completely oblivious to it, and frowned. “If I’m coming back? I. Love. You. Of course I’m—”
“It’s not easy out here, I know.” He kept his tone even, as warm as he could, and took a deep breath—no matter what, this couldn’t turn into an argument. “You might find you’re happier...elsewhere.”
“Adam, I’m not a fucking butterfly that you’re setting free to see if I come back to you. I’m your girlfriend.”
“This life, here, isn’t what you ever pictured for yourself, is it?”
Her silence and the pursing of her lips was his answer, even as his heart sank.
Dani liked spontaneity and new things. She’d do well traveling, meeting new people. It wasn’t just about the publishing deal and book, or the blog—it was her core personality. And he loved it.
But it wasn’t him. He wanted to settle. He had no wanderlust. He was content with Stirling Falls.
“I’m not leaving until the spring,” she said as she reached up to swipe at her eyes. “We could—”
“Pretend everything’s okay until then?”
Dani bit her lip and her gaze turned to a glare. “I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me.”
“I’m not. I’m saying there’s still a fucking moose in my apartment, I have problems with things, I think you have problems with things, and we still need time to figure out what we want.”
“You don’t think you want me anymore?”
He smiled, faintly. “I know exactly what I want. I just don’t know if it’ll work.”
She looked away and slipped her bra back up. “Cryptic cowboy is cryptic.”
“Snarky princess is snarky.”
“Touché.” She climbed off of him to stand, grasped her T-shirt, and slipped it back on with her back to him.
Adam put his on as well and stood, gripped her shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I love you.”
She said nothing, her shoulders hunched, and didn’t look back at him. He waited a few moments longer, then reluctantly released her and went for his boots and coat.
Chapter Five
Dani stood for a full five minutes just staring at the chair against the far wall in front of her, not moving, not thinking. She clutched her stomach and bit at the inside of her mouth. Even though he was long gone, she didn’t want to suddenly burst into tears, like that made her silly or weak or something.
It was horrible and stupid and he was right. They had a few compatibility issues. They had a lot of compatibility issues. Stuff to deal with they couldn’t sweep under the rug with some making out and pretending problems didn’t exist. Oh God, was this what being a grownup felt like? It totally fucking sucked.
Plus she hadn’t found a way to slip the “I’m pregnant” into that conversation, either.
Stupidly, she wavered on telling him at all. The last thing she wanted was him obligated to her. Especially now that it was quite clear a lot of things were bothering him. On more than one occasion, she considered a blog poll on the subject, but he’d likely read that and it would turn out really badly.
But she couldn’t not tell him. Besides it being a douchey thing to do, he’d figure it out, what with her eventually looking like a basketball was stuffed in her shirt and all that. And she was due in July, so just in time to be home from the story-gathering trip for her book for a few months. He’d really be able to tell then.
Her cell phone was in her jacket pocket and she started toward it. Tash might have a suggestion as to the most tactful way to broach the subject. She’d been her sounding board through this, the only person other than her doctor who knew. Dani’d been over everything—to keep it or not—and Tash had been on her side no matter what.