Promises Decide

by Sarah McCarty

  Mimi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Jackson didn’t seem to have the same ambivalence. Getting to his feet, he growled. “I don’t think I want to hear where this conversation is going.”

  Everyone else stood, too. Firelight danced across their features. Outside the circle of light, darkness encroached.

  The Rev pulled his hat down over his brow. “It was heading in the direction of marriage.”

  “Whose?”

  “Yours.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, quite frankly,” Brad said, “we’re a bit worried you won’t have the common sense to see what’s standing in front of you.”

  “So you’re ambushing me?”

  Mimi couldn’t tell if Jackson was mad or amused. But for herself, she was mortified.

  Evie spread her hands and shrugged. There wasn’t a lick of apology in the gesture. “It seemed prudent.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Elizabeth offered, “I’m thinking of it as surprise encouragement.”

  Jackson rolled his eyes. “You would. Did it ever occur to any of you jackasses that I might not want to get married?”

  If the ground could conveniently open up a giant hole in front of her in that moment, Mimi would have dove in headfirst. They were backing Jackson into a corner. Forcing him to do something he clearly didn’t want to do. It was humiliating. It was demeaning. The nice thing about being all grown up, though, was she no longer had to sit and tolerate being the butt of people’s jokes.

  “Excuse me.” Turning, she just started walking.

  “Mimi!” Jenna called. “Don’t go.”

  She wasn’t going to stay. Letting the faint moonlight guide her, she headed into the woods. A mosquito promptly bit her neck. She cursed and slapped it. Another came at her. She decided to run for it. Deeper into the woods. Away from the house. Away from the painful, humiliating reality that while they were teasing Jackson, she had pathetically been holding her breath, waiting for him to propose. Hoping it had been his idea. Wanting it to be.

  The only fool tonight had been her.

  Seventeen

  “Have you lost your damned mind?” Jackson demanded, running his hand through his hair, making note of the direction Mimi had bolted.

  Brad sighed. “Maybe.”

  “In his defense,” Elizabeth said, “that didn’t go at all like we’d planned.”

  Asa held up his hands. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Me either,” Elijah said.

  Jackson looked at Brad. “But you did?”

  Brad looked at Evie and blew out a breath. “I lost a bet.”

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out what kind of bet it’d been. If he had any doubts Evie’s blush dispelled them. “You sabotaged my proposal and ran my potential bride off into the night, because of a bet?”

  “You were going to propose?” Jenna gasped.

  “Well, why didn’t you say something?” Evie snapped.

  “Probably because it was none of our business,” Brad interjected, catching Evie’s hand and pulling her down.

  “But if I’d known he had the sense God gave a gnat, I wouldn’t have interfered,” she muttered, leaning against his chest.

  Jackson grabbed up a couple blankets from the chairs. “Good to know, and when I get back tomorrow, you can explain that to Mimi.”

  “Tomorrow?” Asa asked with an arch of his brow.

  Pulling his hat down, Jackson muttered, “After all your help, I’m thinking she’s going to take a heap of persuading to see me as any sort of husbandly prospect.”

  * * *

  • • •

  It wasn’t hard to find her. She’d pretty much run in a straight line until she’d run into a tree. And then she’d sort of crumpled. She was still crumpled, sitting against the base, knees drawn up to her chest, pretending she didn’t know he was standing there looking at her.

  “Are you going to make me stand here all night?”

  She sighed but didn’t lift her head. “I’m actually hoping that if I ignore you long enough, you’ll go away.”

  “Not going to happen.” Squatting down in front of her, Jackson tipped her chin up with the tip of his finger. Her face was red and her cheeks blotchy. Damn. She’d been crying. Next time he saw Brad he was going to kick his ass. “Look at me, honey.”

  It took her a minute, but when she finally did, the misery in her eyes broke his heart. Very quietly he said, “I never give up.”

  She licked her lips. “You should.”

  Brushing his thumb across the moist skin, he asked, “Why?”

  Her shrug was more like a hunch. “I’m sorry they did that to you.”

  “Why?”

  Her head snapped up. “Can’t you find anything else to say but ‘why’?”

  “Yup.” He had a whole lot to say. “And as soon as you answer that, we can get to it.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to.”

  Standing, he shook out a blanket.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Settling in. Looks like it’s going to be a while.”

  She just stared at him. “You’re crazy.”

  “And handsome.” Sitting down on the blanket, he ran a finger down her nose. “It’s a good idea to sprinkle some compliments in with your insults.”

  She swatted his hand away. “It’s not an insult if it’s true.”

  With a pat of his hand he indicated the blanket. “Come here.”

  “No.”

  With a tug, he tumbled her to his side. He needed to hold her.

  “Yes.”

  She sat stiffly in his arms. Taking the second blanket, he wrapped it around her shoulders, cocooning them together. “There’s no point in fighting it, you know. I’ve been away from you for three days. I’m pretty determined to cuddle.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I missed you.” He rubbed his chin across the top of her head. “See how easy it is to answer a simple question?”

  “It depends on the question.”

  Turning, he leaned back against the tree. Pulling her with him, he draped her across his lap. Her full hips cushioned his cock. Her soft breasts pressed against his chest. His forearm settled neatly into the curve of her waist. She smelled like vanilla. He missed the honeysuckle. Resting his head against the tree, he savored the moment. “Damn, you feel good.”

  “Sweet-talking won’t get you anywhere.”

  “Then I won’t try it. It’s time you answered my question, Mimi.”

  “Your friends tried to force you into marrying me. I don’t want a man humiliated into marrying me.”

  Tilting his head to the side, he studied her expression. “Have you met me?”

  “Those were your friends.”

  “Who took it upon themselves to stick their noses where they didn’t belong. They’ll apologize tomorrow.”

  She dropped her head to his chest. “Could this get any worse?”

  “Give me a minute, and we’ll see.”

  Her chuckle was weak but there.

  He could work with that. “In the interest of my plans for the night going well, I’m going to sum things up. My friends are opinionated but good-hearted. They like you. They like me. In their eyes one plus one makes two.”

  “And in yours?”

  “I don’t have the patience for addition. I just know what I want.”

  She tilted her head back. Moonlight caressed her face. She was so achingly beautiful. “And what is that?”

  “You.”

  She froze.

  He shrugged. “The Rev stole my thunder.”

  “You don’t have to say that.”

  “Honey, I don’t have to do anything. I’m Jackson Montgomery.”

  That got the smile he was looking for. “Are you ever se
rious?”

  “All the time. Just no one seems to notice.”

  Her hand opened over his heart. “I’ve noticed.”

  “Yes.” He waited to see what she would do. She didn’t speak for the longest moment. It could have been seconds or minutes. It felt like hours. There was a mosquito buzzing his ear. He didn’t swat it. He didn’t want to disrupt the moment. He felt the instant she reached a decision. The tension in her muscles subsided and she released her breath in a long, drawn-out sigh.

  Finally, she said, “I like how I feel in your arms.”

  “How is that?”

  Instead of answering, she pushed away from his chest and straddled his lap. “I’d much rather show you.”

  He glanced down at her hands braced against his shoulders. “Are you worried I’m going to resist?”

  “You have a contrary side.”

  “True.” His hands came up to the buttons of her dress. “I’m not crazy and only a crazy man would turn down an offer like that.”

  The first button gave easily. The second was a bit more stubborn. When the third parted, he had access to the sensitive skin of her nape. He took full advantage, drawing little circles over the exposed flesh. Her shiver went straight to his cock. “Don’t you agree?”

  “Yes.”

  The goose bumps that sprang up in the aftermath inspired him. “Turn around.”

  “I thought I was showing you.”

  “Give me about two minutes and you’ll be showing me all sorts of things.”

  It wasn’t easy to turn around on command when her skirts were wrapped around her legs, a log was wedged against her thigh, and desire was sapping the coordination from her muscles, but Mimi managed it. Not cleanly, and not without laughing, but in the end she was sitting on Jackson’s lap with her back to his chest and her hands braced on his knees.

  “In my head that went a lot smoother,” Jackson confessed, still chuckling.

  She liked that about Jackson. For all that intensity he could laugh at himself. She shook her hair out of her eyes. “In mine, too. I’m afraid I’m not going to make a living as a femme fatale.”

  “If you were any more ‘fatale,’ this would be over before it started.”

  Yes. Yes, it would. The proof pressed against her buttocks. The passion that hummed between them thrummed in a tangible connection. Wherever they touched, there was potential. Whenever they moved, there was pleasure. Between her thighs, his cock throbbed. On her back his fingers brushed tantalizingly as he unbuttoned her bodice.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it feel like?”

  “It feels like you’re teasing.”

  “Now, why would I do that?”

  “Because you like to hear me moan.”

  “I do enjoy that. Do you like this?”

  “This” was a light drag of his nails down her back.

  Goose bumps sprang up along the path. Her shiver was hard and long. His chuckle was low and deep.

  He did it again, and this time when the shiver hit, his lips were there to capture it. Warm, moist, and teasing, they gathered that pleasure and then spread it further, raining gentle kisses down her back, cherishing her as button by button new territory was revealed.

  He didn’t have to tell her to kneel. She didn’t have to ask him to continue. In this dance they were in perfect sync. Desire feeding desire. Passion spiking need. And the need . . .

  Oh, she ached with the need. Her breasts tingled for his touch, her pussy throbbed for his possession, and her skin begged for his caress. It was torture just kneeling there, letting him paint his appreciation on her skin in kisses too light, caresses too fleeting to satisfy. It was also bliss. She never wanted it to stop.

  “Beautiful siren.”

  “Yes.” He made her feel beautiful, desirable. He made her feel so much. She didn’t know how to contain it. But she did know how to show it.

  His palms swept up her back and then around her shoulders before sliding down her arms. Her bodice went with them, revealing her breasts to the night and his enjoyment. Her nipples peaked. Her breasts ached.

  “Jackson,” she whispered.

  His lips brushed her ear. “Tell me. Tell me what you need.”

  “I need you to touch me.”

  “Where?”

  “Here.” Taking his hands, she dragged them to her breasts, sighing in relief as he cupped the full curves, whimpering when his thumb and forefinger found the sensitive tips.

  “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  Rough and deep, his “yes” echoed hers.

  For endless moments he held her there in breathless anticipation, making her focus, making her want, before he finally—finally—pinched ever so lightly. Once. Twice. And then he pinched harder, longer, catching those splintery sensations of anticipation and binding them into bolts of pleasure that ripped through her reserves. Squirming on his lap, she moaned and trembled, closing her eyes so she could feel it more. She wanted everything. She wanted it all.

  “More.”

  “Always.”

  She wanted him to give her everything, and she wanted to give it back. The excitement, the passion, the pleasure. The love. And, oh, yes, she wanted to give him love. Arching into his hands, she reached behind her and worked the buttons free from his pants. And then she had him in her hand. Smooth silk over hard steel. A promise waiting to be delivered.

  His touch on her breasts grew rougher. Her hand on his cock gentler, teasing and tempting, drawing another growl from his throat, trying to drive him past the point of no return.

  She wanted him to take her, hard and rough, so fully and completely that she couldn’t tell where he began and she left off. She wanted him. She needed him. His teeth pressed against her skin between her shoulder and neck, lingered. Dropping down she ground her pussy against his groin, rocking against him, seducing him as he was seducing her.

  “Shit, yeah.”

  He bit and she screamed. The bite stung, her skin burned, and deep within her the coil tightened.

  “Jackson!”

  “Yes.”

  His hand at the base of her neck pushed her forward. How could he do this to her? Make her crazy with lust, so needy she whimpered and arched her back when he tossed her skirts over her back, offering him everything with a spread of her thighs. With a loud rip, he tore her pantaloons in half. The soft material drifted down her thighs as he came over her.

  She felt small and vulnerable and feminine kneeling there before him, completely exposed. She imagined she could feel the heat of his skin. The memory of how he felt was nothing compared to the reality when the broad thick head of his manhood snugged home. She couldn’t help stiffening.

  “Easy, now. You know you can take me.”

  She nodded. “I know, but—”

  But there was always that first moment when she struggled before pain became pleasure.

  “No buts. I’ve got you.”

  And he did. His fingers parted her folds, sliding through the slick heat until they found her swollen clit. He was gentle at first, teasing and tempting as he had her nipples, seducing her past her fears and luring her back into that mindless fire where she only wanted to burn. With him. Just him. Beneath the surface, she could feel the wild waiting. And she wanted it.

  “Jackson.”

  “Yes.”

  “Please.”

  With his knee he pushed her thighs wider. With his cock he parted her further. His fingers plucked her clit, stretching and twisting, giving her the more she needed as desire spiraled. The coil tightened and reality faded until there was only this moment. This need.

  The smack on her ass took her by surprise. The sting blended with the pleasure. She jumped and he pushed. Her muscles surrendered and his cock forged deep. She screamed and for the first time he let her.

  �
�Sing for me, baby.”

  And she did. Over and over, riding the pulsing pleasure, struggling to take more, always more, rejoicing when he gave it, welcoming him deeper until she felt he touched her very soul.

  It was too much. Digging her fingers into the blanket, she tried to hold on, but she couldn’t. This was Jackson. This was them and when he touched that spot now, and growled, she surrendered, body and soul. Screaming again as he pulsed high within her, her name a rough whisper in her ear. His, a soft expulsion of her breath.

  She collapsed on the blanket. He followed her down, still hard within her. She wiggled. He chuckled. “Stop tempting me, woman. I’ve got this one night without kids to interrupt and I intend to get my cuddle.”

  She slapped a mosquito on her arm. “You and the mosquitoes.”

  “Hmm.” He wiped one off her shoulder. “I’m beginning to suspect a conspiracy.”

  Rolling on his back, he patted his shoulder. She’d never received a more welcome invitation. Scooting over, she settled into his arms. He pulled the blanket up. It was the most natural thing in the world to snuggle into his side, to cup his cock in her hand, to listen to his heart beat. To be sheltered in his arms. Mimi lay there for a time, and let her mind wander. As it always did, it roamed back to her childhood and the tightrope of guilt her mother made her walk. And for the first time, she realized it didn’t matter. Her mother had done what she’d thought best, but Mimi was no longer that girl who felt she had to atone for her existence. Over the last year, she’d found her purpose.

  Propping up on his elbow, Jackson leaned over her. His hair caressed her breast; his thumb stroked her cheek. “A penny for your thoughts.”

  She couldn’t see his face, but she felt his smile. “I was thinking I like it here.”

  “Here in Cattle Crossing or here in my arms?”

  “Both, but mostly the latter.”

  “Not missing the children?”

  She shook her head. “I’m a bit jealous of Jenna—she makes mothering look so easy—but I’m beginning to also accept I don’t have to be everything to Melinda Sue and the boys. I’m not their mother, but I can be most things and it will be all right. Not their mother, but something close.”