by A. D. Ryan
“Yeah?” The worry lines in his furrowed brow deepened, and I ran the tips of my fingers over them in hopes of softening his expression. He reached up and took my hand, looking down at my ring finger contemplatively.
I swallowed thickly, wondering if this was it. Was this the moment Jensen was going to propose? The sound of my pulse filled my head, drowning out the rest of the world, and my acceptance rested on the tip of my tongue. But I could see his hesitation for what it was.
“I’m not proposing,” he rushed to tell me, pulling me from my thoughts, and extinguishing my response before I could let it out. His words forced my hope to fall a little, and it was probably a good thing my head was already tilted downward, because my chin quivered slightly. I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was, though; he was probably still a little gun-shy considering I turned him down the first time.
Gently, Jensen used a bent forefinger under my chin to force my eyes to his. “But I will,” he promised. “When we’re both ready and the time is right. I heard what you said. It’s best we don’t rush this relationship more than we already have, and I’m happy with everything the way it is between us.”
I couldn’t argue with his logic—or was it my logic originally? It was getting really difficult to keep track. Every aspect of our relationship had been rushed since the day we met, and we owed it to ourselves to manage this one hurdle before adding another.
Of course, that didn’t stop me from wanting to wear his ring on my finger.
I guess I’d just have to keep practicing patience.
“Now,” Jensen said, his hands falling to ensnare my hips, “let’s go home, shall we? My sister should be there soon for your afternoon together.”
I looked up at him through my lashes and smiled seductively. “Plus, I think you and I are in need of a little alone time.”
Seeing his mouth play up into a sly smile was a huge relief given the weight of the situation the universe had just thrown at us. “Well, I’m not going to say no to that.”
Chapter 21. Caught in the Crossfire
Putting the Kaylie thing as far behind us as possible—quite literally as we drove away from the clinic—we made our way home. From my spot, I rested my arm across the center console of the new Ford Edge I picked up a couple weeks ago and slipped my hand into his. Naturally, I had a lot of reservations on spending that kind of money, but after a lot of back and forth, I realized my old truck—while I loved it—just wasn’t reliable or practical for a growing family.
We had just turned onto the stretch of road leading home when my gaze automatically shifted to Charles’ land. I’d seen him maybe a handful of times since that day in the wash stall, but only ever from afar. Sometimes he’d be driving to or from his place, sometimes he’d be out with Vlad, walking up and down the road, and it always made me nervous when he’d walk past our driveway. Luckily, he never crossed that imaginary boundary that marked this land as ours; he must have really been afraid of Jensen making good on his promise.
Shortly after the wash stall incident, we’d called and reported Charles—Dad even used his connections in hopes of forcing someone out here to check on Charles’ operation. Unfortunately, without probable cause, they couldn’t secure a warrant to check the land thoroughly. It was frustrating to still be so uncertain of what exactly that man was up to, but with the high traffic of horses coming and going, it was starting to look suspicious. It was no longer just about the mustangs anymore.
As we drove right by one of the newest acquirements to Charles’ pasture—a smaller, palomino mare—I had to avert my eyes when they landed on the deep lacerations that were on her neck. I couldn’t be sure how she had acquired them, but I knew it had to be stopped. It made me physically ill to see her like that: her eyes wide with fear as she walked cautiously with her ears always moving so she could hear where the next strike was coming from—even if she didn’t stand a chance to outrun it at her obvious advanced age. I watched her pace along the barbed-wire fence until I couldn’t anymore.
As I stared down into my lap, Jensen’s hand appeared, covering my tightly clenched fists and rubbing his thumb over my fingers. “I’m going to talk to your dad again and see if we can’t have someone from the department come out again and take a look at what the hell kind of operation that psycho is running, baby. Don’t worry, one way or another, we’ll save them from whatever is going on,” he promised me.
“We’ve already been down that road, though. What good is it going to do now?” I was starting to feel a little hopeless and like Charles would get away with … whatever the hell he was doing.
“They won’t ignore the worsening conditions of the horses he keeps bringing onto his land. I’ll do everything I can to make sure what he’s doing stops.”
Nodding my understanding, I forced a small smile and looked up at him as he turned into our driveway. “Thanks,” I whispered, shifting my hands and tightening my own grip slightly around his fingers.
After parking the car in its spot, we got out and headed for the house. Finding myself slightly peckish, I headed for the kitchen. “Do you want a sandwich?” I offered, my head half inside the refrigerator.
“Sure.”
I set to work making a couple of sandwiches while Jensen leaned against the island, watching me intensely. “You’re going to make me cut my thumb,” I scolded, not chancing an injury by looking up at him—not that I had to; I could feel his eyes burning into me.
“Madison, it’s a butter knife.”
“Noooo … it’s me using a butter knife,” I corrected, with a pointed stare.
He laughed as I dropped my focus back to our food, kissing the side of my head before pushing away from the counter. “Touché.”
I thought for sure he’d head over to the table or the living room until I had lunch ready, but I was shocked when his warm body pressed up against mine from behind. His right hand covered mine, easing the knife from my grip, as his lips explored the right side of my neck. Tingles erupted below the surface of my skin, travelling at light speed throughout my body until my fingers and toes curled.
“What about our sandwiches?” I sighed, pressing my palms flat on the counter when my knees started to tremble.
Jensen bit my earlobe gently. “They can wait. This”—he pushed his hips against my ass, and I gasped when I felt every solid inch of him through our jeans—“can’t.”
His hands moved down, and he undid the button on my jeans before sliding a hand inside. When his fingers made contact, I moaned, pushing my hips into his touch. Back and forth they slid, teasing me until my entire body started to tremble with my burgeoning release. Needing to feel his lips on mine, I raised my right hand off the countertop and wove it through his hair, craning my neck as far around as I could and pressed my lips to his hungrily. It was awkward and made the position we were in pretty difficult to carry on with.
As always, Jensen must have read my mind, because he yanked his hand from out of my jeans and turned me abruptly. The edge of the counter bit into the area above my ass, but it was a dull pain that I welcomed as his lips found mine again. As hot as it was, I couldn’t help but be a little saddened by the fact that our bodies no longer pressed flush against one another; my growing belly seemed to be forcing us further and further apart. We sure gave it the old college try, though.
His busy hands roamed up my shirt until he palmed my left bra-clad breast in his hand, pulling the cup down to expose my nipple to his dexterous fingers. I groaned heatedly into our kiss as my hands moved down and started to release his belt and pants, pushing them and his boxers down his legs in an instant. Quickly, his hands moved down and around my body, causing a trail of goose flesh to rise up in their wake, until his hands were down the back of my jeans and palming my ass firmly. The way his long fingers dug into the soft flesh made me tremble with anticipation.
I slid my hand down the front of his legs, and he met my touch with a forward thrust of his hips. Releasing a groan, his eyes rolled slight
ly before closing, and he deepened our kiss, our tongues sliding and pressing firmly against each other with need. I was so utterly consumed by desire that I felt as though I might spontaneously combust.
Jensen forced my jeans down over my thighs, and they pooled at my ankles. Frantically, we both kicked our feet free, trying really fucking hard not to break our kiss; for the most part, it worked.
Our shirts were quickly shed, joining the scattered clothing on the kitchen floor, before Jensen turned me back around, his nails scratching lightly down my back until his thumbs pressed into my lower back. Bringing one hand back up to my shoulder, Jensen gently urged me to lean over the counter. Once I complied, his hand slid down the length of my back, joining the other at my waist. A low moan escaped me as he circled his thumbs around the slightly tense muscles of my lower back, deepening the moment I felt him slide between my legs.
He brought one of his hands up and pulled the veil of blond hair away from the right side of my face and leaned against me to whisper in my ear. “Is this okay?” I nodded, holding back a whimper as the tip of his erection hovered teasingly. “You’re comfortable, then? Over the counter this way?” I bobbed my head again, pushing my hips back until he baaaarely entered me.
In one swift move, he thrust his hips forward until they rest against my ass and soon we were moving at a steady tempo. I could tell from the way Jensen’s rhythm was slowly increasing that he was close. The force of his movements caused my belly to repeatedly bump against the counter; it didn’t hurt, but it was a little uncomfortable now. In an attempt to minimize the discomfort, I pushed myself up a little, forcing an entirely new and delightful angle.
With every forward movement, warmth continued to blossom in the very depths of my body, spreading and slithering through me, the threads of my release beginning to unravel at an exponential rate.
“Oh … shit …” My words were punctuated every time he would sheath himself deep inside me. “Yes … yes!”
Jensen seemed receptive to the sheer volume of my very vocal encouragement, the moans, grunts and all the other sex noises he usually made escalated in time with mine as we reached the peak of our climax together before crashing down, literally falling to the floor when our legs gave out beneath us.
“Holy crap.” I could barely talk between the labored breaths as I propped myself up on my elbows and looked over at Jensen, still flat on his back on the cool tile floor.
Releasing a winded chuckle, he rolled onto his side and placed his hand on my stomach. “Sorry, I meant for us to make it to the bedroom.”
“Meh,” I said with a casual shrug. “I think the bedroom is overrated. Spontaneity is much more fun …” I was just about to say something else when I felt a solid thump from inside.
Jensen grinned. “That was a strong one. Does it feel … weird?” he asked, completely in awe of what he was experiencing as he moved his hand around my belly to follow her.
Laughing, I arched my body to the right and away from what I assumed was a kick to one of my kidneys. “Um, sometimes. I don’t know; it’s hard to explain. At first, it was like flutters, and now it’s pretty strong and obvious that the baby’s moving around in there.”
“It’s just so amazing.” He was completely captivated as the baby choreographed a gymnastics routine inside my uterus.
We remained like that for a few moments, just enjoying the bonding experience when a loud knock at the door jarred us from our moment. Unable to keep from laughing, Jensen and I flew to our feet, scrambling to gather our scattered clothes and re-dress. After washing up quickly, Jensen went to the door while I finished the task of cleaning up the mess we made when Jensen had me over the counter: the bread from our sandwiches had been scattered across the wood top, tomato slices off in the corner and on the floor …
“Hey, Madi!” Lilah greeted as she and Jensen entered the kitchen. “What are you—?” Her blue eyes widened before her face scrunched up and she shook her head. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
Jensen and I laughed. “Hey, Lilah. You want to go for a walk before your lesson?”
Resolute to bleach her brain of the knowledge that she just walked into a post-coitus atmosphere, she nodded. “Sure. That sounds great.”
“Sandwich?” I offered, hoping to change the topic, because I knew I would probably crack under enough pressure.
Glaring skeptically at my kitchen counter, Lilah finally nodded. “Sure, thanks.”
After we all finished eating, Jensen gave me a kiss before telling me he was heading out to the barn for the afternoon. “You two have a good walk.” He directed his attention solely to me, his eyes indicating just how serious he was. “Be careful and stay close.”
“Always. I promise,” I assured him, standing up while rubbing my tummy.
After he left, Lilah started helping me tidy the small mess I had made while making our snack. “So, you guys still haven’t caved and found out the sex of the baby?”
My laugh filled the room as I rinsed the last dish and put it in the dishwasher. “We haven’t.” I sighed. “It’s been kind of fun waiting. Like we didn’t rush this one thing, you know? Plus, we’re going to love the baby regardless, and I really just want to be surprised.”
Lilah sighed in defeat. She still obviously struggled with our decision. I knew she was excited, but sometimes it felt like it was more than that. “Fine. I’ll just keep waiting like everyone else, but you know this has put a serious cramp in our shopping efforts, right?”
“So, being overdramatic runs in the family, then?” I teased, narrowing my eyes as I dried my hands off on the dishtowel.
Obviously unenthused, Lilah pursed her lips. “Ha ha.”
Laughing, I looped my arm through hers and led her for the door where we put our paddock boots on. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. It’ll help take your mind off the disappointment.”
Arm-in-arm, Lilah and I made our way through the grounds, passing by Jensen as he supervised the construction of the cabin. Jensen looked up, offering me a smile before turning his focus back to the designs for the campers’ bunkhouse.
“How’s all that camp stuff coming along?” Lilah asked as we walked down the gravel driveway toward the road.
“Really good, actually. We’re almost completely booked, and the final touches are being done this week,” I explained as we stuck to the side of the road. While I’d much rather be riding, it just wasn’t worth the risk.
“Hey, so, I know I’m not certified or anything, but if there’s anything I can do to help with the camps this summer, you let me know. I could cook, help with the horses, maybe even do some promotional photography for your Facebook page … whatever you need,” she offered.
“Yeah? There will probably be plenty to do, so I’ll look things over and talk to Dad and Jensen, and I’ll definitely get back to you,” I told her. “The extra set of hands would be fantastic.”
“I just, really enjoy coming out here, you know?” Lilah sighed, and one look over at her told me something pretty huge was weighing on her. Before I could ask her, she spoke up. “Look, I’m sure you think I’m crazy obsessed about this pregnancy.”
Shaking my head, I laughed and nudged her. “You’re excited, Lilah. We all are.”
“True, but there’s more to it than that.” She exhaled again, eyebrows furrowing as she kept them on the horizon ahead. “I can’t have kids … not conventionally.”
“Oh, Lilah,” I said softly, stopping in my tracks and causing her to do the same. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even know you guys were trying.”
“We weren’t. I’ve known since the attack. The internal damage I sustained was just too severe. Kyle’s been great about it, though. He wants kids—and he’d be a wonderful father—but sometimes I wonder why he’d choose to be with someone who can’t give him everything he deserves.”
“Stop that,” I admonished. “That man loves you. So you can’t get pregnant. There are other ways—more fulfilling ways—to become parents.”
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“I guess,” she agreed. “Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for being a little pushy.”
“Don’t stress yourself over it. Besides, Willow might have you beat.” I laugh. “She keeps sending me updates on how far along I am and how big the baby is now. And don’t get me started on the Pinterest board she’s started for nursery plans.”
Lilah smirks. “We might both have access to that.”
“You two are trouble.” Laughing, I loop my arm back through hers and tug her along the trail as another thought occurs to me, and I hope maybe it’ll cheer her up. “Hey, I don’t know that I’ve told you, but we’ve recently put Starla up for sale. Her training’s all done, and with all the new foals we’re expecting in the spring, plus the baby and my possible return to the circuit, I just won’t have the time for her …”
Lilah’s smile fell as she looked down at the ground. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mmm hmm,” I hummed with a smile, knowing that she was misunderstanding my intention. “Well, she’s been on the market for a couple of weeks and only a handful of offers have come in, but I’m just not so sure that she’s theirs. I’m pretty particular about making sure my horses are perfectly suited to a buyer.”
Lifting her head, she turned to me with her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. I was sure she probably knew where I was going with this, but I decided to elaborate, just to be safe.
“I’m not sure of your financial situation, but I’d be willing to offer her to you over anyone else. It’s obvious that the two of you are bonded, and I’d be happiest knowing she went to someone I trust.”
“Really?” She seemed a little shocked, but more than receptive to the idea. “I mean, I’d have to talk to Kyle, obviously, but … yes!”
Lilah and I walked along a path that led to a small creek, getting completely caught up in our conversation about her plans for Starla. I grew excited to show Lilah everything that little mare was capable of. It wasn’t until a breeze picked up and I shivered that I realized how late in the afternoon it had gotten.