The Texas Rancher's Family

Home > Romance > The Texas Rancher's Family > Page 10
The Texas Rancher's Family Page 10

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  A tortured silence fell. “I’m not sure I could be so pragmatic or accepting, in your place,” Mac said quietly.

  Erin knew she was no saint. “It’s not like I had any choice, Mac. He was leaving whether I wanted him to go or not.”

  “Did you ever ask him to stay?”

  “Yes. Many times.” To the point she knew she would never again beg a man to stay with her. “Don’t get me wrong,” she continued with a sigh. “I think our split was for the best. G.W. and I couldn’t have stayed married and been happy. But I wish the kids had a complete family unit.”

  Mac nodded. “I wish the same thing. And I know that’s the main reason Heather was so miserable before we got here, aside from disliking our new child-care arrangements and not getting along with the nanny I hired. She had that sense of belonging, with our family friends, whenever I had to work late or traveled. But all that changed when Joel, Anna and Stella moved away, when it was just the two of us. For the first time since we lost Cassandra, there was no surrogate mom, no sense of extended family....”

  “She knew what she was missing,” Erin offered.

  “And she wanted a renewed sense of security. To the point...”

  “What?”

  Mac’s expression turned rueful. “I don’t think it will be all that long before Heather is asking me to get married again, so she can have a mom.”

  As Erin studied Mac, the intimacy between them deepened. And with it the sense that he had his own private burdens. “What about you?” she asked curiously. “Do you miss being married?”

  Sensing she’d hit a nerve, she murmured, “Or was your marriage not all you wished it had been, either?”

  Chapter Nine

  Erin knew she shouldn’t have asked. After all, it was none of her business. “Forget I said that.” She gathered up her gardening tools and gloves. “Just because I’m spilling my guts here doesn’t mean you have to spill yours.”

  “Maybe not, but—” Mac offered his hand and helped her to her feet. “Maybe I should.”

  Though he released his hold on her, the intimacy between them deepened.

  “I don’t think we ever would have gotten divorced. I think—because neither of us had any other living relatives—that we would have stayed married. But I don’t think we would have ever been as happy as we could have been.”

  Erin picked up the empty flowerpots, while Mac retrieved the plastic water jugs. “Why not?” she asked as they wound their way through the cemetery to her car.

  “Cassandra’s childhood was as chaotic as mine was destitute,” Mac confided. “As a consequence, when she grew up, she craved control of every aspect of her life. She couldn’t compromise about anything.”

  Erin’s heart went out to him.

  “She wanted to stay in Philadelphia, where our friends were, even when my job required that I travel all over the Southwest.”

  “She refused to relocate?”

  Mac nodded grimly. “And to get her occasional shortness of breath checked out.”

  “The pulmonary embolism.”

  He exhaled sharply. “I kept nagging her to see our family doc.”

  Had Cassandra done so, she might still be alive, Erin realized. They fell silent, thinking about that.

  “But there were other things she wanted to control, too,” Mac said eventually. “Like precisely when she got pregnant, where Heather was born, what she ate, wore, who her pediatrician was...those were all in Cassandra’s domain. I had no say in any of it. Which isn’t to say she made bad decisions. They were all fine.”

  “The point is, you were excluded.”

  He nodded. “And that wears on a person, too.”

  “You begin to resent them and then you feel bad for resenting them because they are doing a good job in regard to the family and finances and so on.”

  Mac slanted her a look as they neared Erin’s SUV. “I thought marriage would be more of a partnership.”

  She smiled ruefully. “So did I.”

  Mac looked into her eyes. “Instead, it was almost like we were executives running two entirely different companies that only occasionally overlapped.”

  Erin set her things down on the ground and searched her pocket for her keys. “A lot of couples are happy living that way.”

  He shook his head. “I wasn’t.”

  “Neither was I.”

  Their glances meshed again. “Who would have thought we would have that in common?” Erin asked wryly.

  They exchanged brief smiles.

  Getting back to business, she put all the gardening gear in the cargo area.

  “So what now?” Mac asked, rocking back on his heels.

  She turned to him. He looked so handsome in the moonlight, so kind. “I don’t want to go home.”

  He rubbed a thumb over her cheek. “What would you like to do?”

  Erin squinted. “Are you up for a little adventure?”

  “With you?” His grin broadened. “Just show me when and where.”

  * * *

  ERIN LOOK THE LEAD in her SUV and Mac followed close behind. Although he was prepared for just about anything, he was surprised to find them heading back to the ranch.

  She’d said she hadn’t wanted to go home.

  But that was exactly where she took them. Or started to, anyway. They drove past the entrance to the Triple Canyon, past the thousand or so acres of fence line, to a barely noticeable gravel lane.

  Erin turned onto it.

  The road was so rough and bumpy it was tough going at fifteen miles an hour.

  Their way lit by the swath of high-beam headlights, they continued deeper and deeper onto Monroe land. Up one hill, down another, across a flat plain, and then up a forty-five degree grade to what looked like a gravel parking area, next to several picnic tables beneath an open-air shelter.

  Erin parked, cut the motor and got out.

  Mac maneuvered his vehicle beside hers and did the same.

  She walked around to the tailgate and handed him a small cooler. Then rummaged around until she found a battery-operated camping lantern that let out a soft yellow light. “Like a Girl Scout, you come prepared,” Mac joked.

  “Sort of. Right now, I’m wishing for a cold beer. All I’ve got is lemonade, an apple, a package of crackers and a hunk of cheese.”

  “Planning to picnic?” The ridge was windy and cool, and sported a view of the entire ranch, including the house and barns.

  Erin shrugged. “I knew I wouldn’t want to go home right away after being with Angelica. I always need time to decompress.”

  “And this is where you come?”

  “For a couple of reasons. I have a lot of happy memories associated with this picnic area. My parents brought us here a lot when we were kids, and I continued the tradition with my own family. Angelica in particular loved it here.”

  “And...”

  “It’s also a place to rail against whatever you want to rail against.”

  He stared at her, fascinated by her in a way that continually surprised him. She was supposed to be a potential business quarry, yet was turning out to be so much more.

  “I’m serious,” Erin said recklessly as she edged closer. “You want me to demonstrate?”

  Wanting her to get it all out, Mac nodded.

  Erin walked toward the bluff. Standing about ten feet back, she looked up at the starlit sky, held her arms wide and let out a loud, long, relentlessly echoing shriek that seemed to come from her very soul.

  Having released what was probably just the tip of her inner rage, she turned around and looked at him, almost daring him to expose even a fraction of those kind of raw emotions.

  “Now you try it.”

  Mac shook his head. He wasn’t the kind of guy to go around railing against the universe, even when his heart was broken. “Not really my thing.”

  She stepped closer, tilted her head up to his. “You don’t have to yell in protest. You can yell like your team just won the Super Bowl.”


  That was maybe more his style. He grinned. “Is this a Monroe family tradition, too?”

  Erin shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “Nope...just mine.”

  Yet she was sharing it with him.

  Asking him to join her.

  He reached out to squeeze her shoulders, and stepped toward the ridge. “Better cover your ears.”

  Erin chuckled, moving with him. “You really think you can outyell me?”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve got Philly blood.”

  He could tell by the way she was looking at him she didn’t really think he was going to do it. So he lifted his arms, beat his chest and let out a battle cry that would have done any Texan proud.

  By the time he’d finished, Erin was wincing. “Now let’s do it together,” she said.

  They whooped and hollered until they had no more breath left. When Erin looked at him, he could tell she was still in pain. Truth was, she might never recover fully from such a devastating loss.

  But there was still comfort to be had in this life. And he could tell by the way she was looking at him that she knew how to temporarily alleviate the pain as well as he did.

  She moved closer.

  He took her all the way into his arms.

  Her face lifted. His lowered.

  Her eyes drifted shut, and then her hands were in his hair and his mouth was on hers. Their lips were fused with a mixture of heat and compassion, understanding and tenderness.

  Mac discovered he needed Erin as much as she needed him. Needed this. And he gave himself over to the experience completely, hauling her close so their bodies were touching in one long demanding line. Breasts to chest, stomach to stomach, thigh to thigh. Grasping her hips, he shifted her higher, until his hardness pressed against the apex of her thighs. With a low moan of surrender, she climbed his body and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  Still kissing her, Mac carried her to the picnic area. Stepping into the gazebo, he sank down on a picnic table. The camping lantern, combined with the moonlight overhead, provided a soft romantic atmosphere that was perfect for lovemaking.

  Erin straddled his lap. “Make me forget,” she pleaded, unbuttoning her blouse with one hand. “Help me live.”

  And live they did, as Mac finished the job she'd started, in a moment that stretched toward the future. Their future. He opened her shirt and unhooked her bra, divesting her of both. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, knowing he’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted Erin. “So feminine and perfect.”

  “You make me feel perfect,” she whispered back.

  Her erect nipples pressed against his palms when he cupped her breasts, reveling in her voluptuousness...and her sweet womanly fragrance. Impatient, Erin unbuttoned his shirt and took it off in turn.

  She smiled as she admired his broad shoulders and rippled chest. “I never knew a man could be so beautiful,” she said, tracing his pecs with her fingertips.

  Mac joked, “It’s all in the eye of the beholder.” And she was looking at him as if he was God’s gift.

  He kissed her deeply, testing the silky heat of her mouth and the soft give of her lips beneath his. She moaned in response. His body hardening, he delved even more erotically, stroking her tongue with his.

  She kissed him back, surrendering completely. “Then we’ve both found the right beholders,” she said when they finally came up for air.

  “No kidding.” Wanting to give her the release she so richly deserved—and needing room to maneuver—Mac shifted Erin off his lap. Naked from the waist up, he stood, offered her his hand. “If we’re going to do this, I want you to be comfortable.”

  Hand in hand, they moved toward his SUV. He opened up the rear, reached in to fold the middle seat down, then turned back to her. She was gorgeous. Ready. Waiting. Feeling his own body go up in flames, he unbuckled and unzipped. Erin followed suit. Naked, they stretched out inside the vehicle and lay on their sides, facing each other. Mac nuzzled her throat, her collarbone, then kissed her as if they had all the time in the world. As if this moment in time, the way they were, was all that mattered.

  With every minute that passed, Erin lost herself more in his tender caresses. “Mac...” she whispered, undulating against him.

  “Not yet.” She wasn’t ready. Making his way to her breasts, he paid homage to her nipples.

  “I...”

  Deliberately, he shifted her onto her back. “We’re not rushing this. Close your eyes.” Lowering his head, he put his mouth on her, using his lips and tongue, making her arch up and start to come.

  But that wasn’t good enough. Grasping her ankles, he shifted her legs upward, until her knees were bent, her feet flat on the carpet. He trailed kisses over her abdomen, went lower still. “Open yourself up for me.”

  He was asking the impossible, Erin knew.

  It wasn’t going to happen.

  Much as she wanted and needed release, there was a part of her—a strong part—that was still numb, still heartbroken, still resisting. A part of her that refused to lose herself in passion or the wonderful man beside her. A part of her that said the one night of pleasure they’d already had was enough. It was all she was going to get.

  But of course, Mac didn’t agree.

  He knew she could—and had—climaxed with earth-shattering intensity. And he was determined it would happen again. Even if it meant stopping and taking stock of the situation, sliding upward and kissing her again. Not as a prelude to what followed, but as a pleasure all on its own. As if kissing was an orgasmic act in itself, something to lose yourself in. And she did.

  The next thing Erin knew, her knees were falling open of their own volition, and he was between her spread thighs. Pulling her toward the edge of the vehicle, Mac lowered his lips once again.

  Skin touched skin and the world skittered to a stop.

  All Erin knew was the erotic intensity of his mouth and the tender stroking of his hands. And right now, as he explored every inch of her feminine core, she was all woman, she was vulnerable, she was all his. He held her until she stopped shuddering, then moved upward.

  “My turn.” Hand to his shoulder, she shifted him onto his back.

  Muscles taut, he looked lovingly into her eyes. “Sure you want to wait?” he murmured. “You’re ready now.”

  “Ready for you,” she stipulated. “Ready for this.”

  He groaned as her silky hair slid across his abdomen. She licked her way down his ribs, let her hair fall lower still. “And you’re ready for me, too. Well,” she said playfully, eager to meet his desires as thoroughly as he had hers, “maybe not quite.”

  “Erin...”

  Savoring the heat and hardness of his body, she gripped his thighs. “Let me do this, Mac. Let me adore you.”

  And she did. When he could stand it no more, he took her by the waist and lifted her upward. Curved over his body, her hands on his shoulders, she straddled his lower abdomen and rose on her knees. “Now?” she whispered, lowering herself slowly.

  He moaned at the feel of their bodies joining. “Now.”

  She tightened around him as they became one. He surged and withdrew, and surged again. Until there was nothing but this moment in time, and the feel of each other. Nothing but this passion and the inevitable explosion of feeling and need. Erin soared and Mac followed close behind. Together, they found everything they had ever wanted, and everything they had ever needed.

  * * *

  ERIN COLLAPSED ON Mac’s chest, tingling and shuddering all over, still breathing hard. To her relief, the emotional numbness that seemed so much a part of her was gone. In its place was a disquieting mixture of elation and regret.

  She had sworn she wouldn’t do this again. Add more confusion to an already difficult situation.

  Yet when she was alone with Mac, all she could think about was putting aside all the problems, all her heartache, and being with him like this. It was crazy. It was risky. And real.

  “I’m not sure what was more effe
ctive, this or the primal screams,” Mac whispered against her neck. “All I know is that I haven’t felt this free in a long time.”

  Erin snuggled close. “I know what you mean. I come up here every now and again to let out my rage against the unfairness of life. But usually all I feel afterward is hoarse and limp with exhaustion.”

  His lips curved against her skin. “And now?”

  “I’m hoarse and limp with satisfaction.”

  He ran a hand down her spine.

  Erin rose slightly, resting her head on her palm. “Do you ever feel guilty about going on?”

  Swallowing hard, he nodded.

  She sighed. “Me, too.”

  Mac smoothed her hair. “I think about all the what-ifs. What if I had convinced Cassandra to go to the doctor sooner? Would they have found the embolism? Been able to save her?”

  Erin understood. “What if I had seen some sign of Angelica’s cancer a lot sooner? Would they have been able to arrest the tumor? Would she still be alive today?”

  Silence reigned.

  “But it always comes back to the same thing.” Erin rolled onto her back and dropped her forearm over her eyes. “Life is what it is. I think we’re all on these paths that are somehow predestined or heaven-made—and with the exception of little variations, we’re all going to end up wherever we were destined to.”

  Mac shifted onto his side to study her. “It stinks, not being able to control everything in our lives, doesn’t it?”

  “It does.” She reached for his hand. “But what’s great are moments like this,” she confessed, entwining her fingers with his. “Moments that are quite extraordinary. Moments that seem, in their own way, predestined, too.”

  Mac thought about that. “You think we were meant to meet?” he murmured, kissing her knuckles.

  “And be the catalyst each other needs? Yes. I do.” Erin held his eyes a long moment.

  “Maybe we should just accept this for the gift that it is, a way to get to the next stage of recovery of our losses.”

  “And not worry beyond that,” Erin agreed.

  Mac shrugged. “Makes sense, don’t you think? Given all we’ve got on our agendas...”

 

‹ Prev