Turning his head, he kissed her palm. “Don’t remind me,” he teased, bending in to trail his lips along the creamy lines of her throat, “Or I just may carry you up into that hayloft to stake my claim.” He gave a playful tug of his teeth to the lobe of her ear before depositing a gentle kiss to her temple. “Seriously, Libby—I love you, and I think you love me, so let’s start over, darlin’, with a real wedding this time to renew our vows.” He drew her to her feet, scooping her close while he studied her for some clue as to how she might answer, praying it would be the one he needed to hear. Heart thudding, he pressed his forehead to hers, his shallow breathing caressing her face. “So … what do you think?”
_____
What do I think? Libby’s breathing accelerated along with her pulse. The idea of renewing her vows with Finn rather than ending them turned her heart—and her plans for her life—completely upside down. Did she love him enough to say yes? She squeezed her eyes shut as she reveled in the gentle touch of his forehead to hers, the whisper of his breath fragrant with the peppermint leaves he so loved to chew. The woody scent of bay rum surrounded her like the strong arms that held her—sweet, safe, and so very secure.
Like my love for Finn, she suddenly realized.
The love that had begun over twenty-five years ago, which had ripened over the last four months through countless hours getting to know the man she’d never stopped loving.
“Say yes, Libby, please …” His voice was a pained rasp as he kissed her forehead, the warmth of his lips lowering to slowly brush each eyelid with such care and deliberation, the breath swirled still in her lungs. He nuzzled her temple, her cheek, the sensitive shell of her ear before straying to feather the nape of her neck, coaxing a soft moan from her throat that seemed to spur him on. “Now, more than ever—I need you,” he whispered, finally meeting her mouth with his own.
And then, in the space of one chaotic heartbeat, it dawned, as swift and powerful as the wild beat of her heart—she needed him too! “Oh, Finn!” She lunged, returning his kiss with a fervent one of her own. “Yes!”
He jerked back to stare, hands gripped to her arms and hope stark in his eyes. “Yes?”
Chewing her lip, she gave a shaky nod.
“Oh, Libby,” he whispered, gently cradling her face in his hands. Gaze intense, it was as if he made love to her with his eyes, heat purling through her when his mouth nuzzled hers with such tenderness, she all but melted into his arms. “You’ve just made my life complete. When?”
“Mmm?” Her lashes fluttered up as she expelled a contented sigh, too dizzy for her own good.
He grinned and brushed a stray curl over her shoulder. “When do you want to get married, darlin’? Tomorrow? Next week? The week after?”
She blinked. “Tomorrow?” she said, her voice a squeak. “Good heavens, Finn, a wedding takes time, and then we still have to tell both your family and mine.”
Tugging her down on the bench, he settled her onto his lap. “How about after the election then?” He placed a soft kiss to her nose. “That will give you time to plan the wedding you want while I spend my time at campaign dinners and meetings.” His mouth quirked. “Templeton is vowing to bury me and spending a boatload of money to do it, so I have some work to do in the next two months if you’re going to be the mayor’s wife.”
“Besides”—he tilted her back to leisurely trail her neck with kisses—“come our second honeymoon, I want to be able to focus on you, Mrs. McShane, not getting elected.” He teased her mouth with gentle exploration before kissing her so deeply, she was little more than a rag doll in his arms. With a heavy sigh, he finally tugged her back up, gently sweeping her loose curls over her shoulder. “Ready to go in, darlin’?”
“Mmm …” All Libby could do was blink, body dazed and tingling as always from one of Finn’s kisses.
“Unless you’d rather stay …?” he whispered, a bit of the devil in his tone as he slowly eased her back with a leisurely nibble of her lower lip. “Because I do believe I hear that loft calling …”
“No!” Libby shot up in his lap, her breathing—and her desire—ramping up way too quickly for both of their safety. She swallowed hard, the smoky look in his eyes not boding well for her own self-control. “But two months?” Her voice cracked.
Burrowing in to nestle his mouth along the curve of her neck, he skimmed down her throat to place a delicate kiss in the very hollow of her collarbone, leaving a trail of fire on her skin that matched the one in his eyes. “I know,” he whispered, his breathing suddenly as ragged as hers while he gave her a wink that bordered on wicked. “Tomorrow’s sounding better all the time.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
“Oh my goodness—a wedding!” Squealing loud enough to hurt Blaze’s ears, Sheridan jumped up from the dinner table and scurried around to give Aunt Libby a hug while Uncle Finn beamed ear to ear.
Blaze pasted on a smile, unwilling to let anyone know—especially Maggie—that weddings made him flat-out sick to his stomach.
“Looks like the good Lord answered our prayers, eh, Maeve?” Aiden rose to slap Finn on the back while Maeve and Maggie joined Sheridan and Shaylee in squeezing Libby half to death.
Blaze guzzled his sarsaparilla, afraid his face was about to crack. Blue blazes, even Gert was flashing teeth as she took her turn dispensing a bear hug to Libby while Maeve and Maggie dabbed napkins to their eyes. Muffling a grunt with his own napkin, he rose from the table.
Yeah, weddings make me cry too.
“This calls for a superior dessert,” Gert announced, slapping a palm to the swinging kitchen door as she lobbed a wink over her shoulder. “Mine.”
Shaking his head over Gert’s and Angus’s ongoing game of dueling desserts, Blaze joined the crowd around Finn and Libby, offering his uncle a handshake with an off-center smile. “Now you’ve gone and done it, Uncle Finn, upsetting the natural balance of male dominance in this house.”
Uncle Finn laughed, the hearty sound making Blaze grin outright. “It’s time you learn, Brendan my boy, that male dominance is so much sweeter when the odds are even.”
“Excuse me—male dominance?” Libby said, nose wrinkled as if she just smelled something bad. Her brows dipped in tease that somehow carried a threat. “I’d say that’s a bit of a risky subject before the bride says ‘I do,’ Mr. McShane.”
Chuckling, his uncle struck with an arm to Libby’s waist, making her squeal when he reeled her in to bury his lips in the crook of her neck. “Just a façade, Libs, to keep my pride intact.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Everybody knows who wields the real power.”
Humph. Blaze bit back another grunt, gaze flicking to where Maggie oohed and ahhhed over Libby’s ring. He blasted out a noisy sigh.
I sure didn’t know.
Till last night.
“But, Uncle Finn—why are you getting married again if you’re already married?” Shaylee wanted to know, her smattering of freckles—or dirt—screwed up in a scrunch.
“Well, your aunt and I never had a real wedding the first time, Shay, so I thought it would be nice to give the love of my life the full-blown thing with all the bells and whistles right here on the ranch. Besides,” he said with a wink at Aiden, “Mr. O’Shea will be footing the bill.”
Aiden’s laughter boomed through the house. “A small price to pay for my peace of mind, my boy, knowing my wayward daughter has finally come to her senses.”
“Papa!” Libby gaped with an open-mouthed smile.
“Far sooner than her father, however, I’d like to point out,” Maeve said with a rare smirk.
“Holy frog spit, are we inviting the whole town?” Shaylee shrieked, eyes near as big as her plate.
“It’s holy matrimony, young lady,” Finn corrected with a patient smile, giving Shay’s neck a tweak, “and I guarantee you ‘spit’ has nothing to do with it.”
Wanna bet? Blaze returned to his seat, not sure if his mouth was watering from the apple pie Angus was passing out or the urge to
spit.
“And since nobody in town knows Libby and I are still married, we figured this is the perfect scenario to correct it. So, in answer to your question, Shay, yes—the whole town will be invited.”
“So, when is the wedding going to be?” Sheridan said, sliding back into her seat to dive into her dessert. “And more importantly”—she wiggled her brows—“am I going to be in it?”
“Of course, you’re going to be in it,” Libby said with a pinch of Sheridan’s waist. “And Shay, and Maggie, and even Gert if she wants.”
“Humph. Now that’d be a sight to see.” Angus shook his head while toting his empty tray back to the kitchen. “Gert all gussied up for a wedding.” He paused at the door to flash a crooked grin. “With a fresh deck of cards.”
“Move out of the way, old man.” Gert bumped Angus aside to divvy out fresh-churned cinnamon ice cream with a wicked smile. “I’m guessin’ that tasteless pie of yours needs a little help with the dad-burned best ice cream in the state, judging by our last barbecue.”
With a tug of the apron towel around his waist, Angus stomped over to swipe a finger into the crock, rolling the ice cream around on his tongue with a scowl.” He gummed his lips with eyes closed before scanning the table with a narrow look. “Humph—she’s right, dad-gum-it.” Blasting out a noisy sigh, he barreled through the swinging door, leaving Gert staring after him with a slack of her jaw.
Finn raised his coffee with a wide grin. “Looks like love is in the air all around.”
“Bite your tongue,” Gert muttered under her breath while she slopped ice cream onto Finn’s pie.
“Uh … speaking of love in the air,” Maggie began, and Blaze’s body froze colder than the ice cream on his plate. No, she wouldn’t, would she? He stared at her across the table, the shy smile flickering on her lips a dead giveaway that, yes, she would. Her gaze met his and the smile bloomed into a grin as she put a hand to her lips, unable to thwart the tiny giggle that slipped out. “Blaze and I are courting.”
Dead silence. Blaze stopped breathing. Dead pulse.
Squeeeeeeeeeal! Sheridan was up once again, and Blake was pretty sure her shriek of excitement damaged his ear drum as his sister pulled Maggie up from her chair. Gripping hands, the two of them jumped up and down like two tree frogs pouncing on a cache of crickets.
“Oh my goodness, Maggie—just think! We’ll become sisters when you’re Blaze’s wife!”
Wife.
The ice cream rose in Blaze’s throat, freezing his vocal cords.
“I know,” Maggie said with a reverence that chilled Blaze to the bone. Those innocent hazel eyes that had taken him down met his with a soft look, glowing more than the confounded candles on the blasted table. “And there’s more good news …”
More? Blaze blinked, his lungs suddenly out of air.
“More?” Sheridan said with a joyous clasp of hands. “Goodness, Maggie, not sure how you’re going to top a wedding with my brother!”
Wedding? Blaze started to hack, lunging for his sarsaparilla.
Dash slapped him on the back with a chuckle. “Slow down, big brother, you’ll get to the altar soon enough.”
Maggie peeked around the table with a tug of her teeth to her lip, her voice literally quivering with joy. “Blaze has agreed to …”
He started quivering too.
“ … go back to church,” she finished with a soft hush that pretty much finished him off too, his eyelids slamming closed, tighter than a pitch-sealed coffin.
“Son, that’s wonderful news!” Uncle Finn said, rising to give Blaze a warm hug. He slapped him on the back while Dash just sat there grinning wider than a hyena in a bowl of bunnies. His uncle circled the table to give Maggie a hug. “I’ve been trying to get that boy’s butt in a pew for too many years now, Maggie, but obviously you have a whole lot more pull.”
Pull? Blaze managed a stiff smile as he sent Maggie a taut look. The word is “drag.”
“I say this calls for a toast,” Finn said as he returned to his seat, raising his drink in the air while everyone at the table followed suit. “To Libby and Maggie—two women who have changed two die-hard bachelors for the better.” He gave Dash a wink. “Two down, and one to go, eh, Dash?”
Shaking his head with a chuckle, Dash countered with one palm in the air, toasting his glass with the other. “No thank you, gentlemen—somebody in this family has to fight the good fight, so I’ll gladly wear the mantle of bachelorhood forever.”
“That’s good, Dash,” his uncle said with a wink, “because you’re gonna need that mantle to keep you warm in the winter, isn’t that right, Blaze?”
Blaze forced a smile as chuckles filled the room, joining in as Uncle Finn made his toast to his and Blaze’s demise. Warm? He gulped his sarsaparilla, almost wishing it were the coffin varnish they served at the Ponderosa. He glugged it all down as if it could drown his troubles, unable to stop his tightly wrought smile from twisting into a frown.
Then why do I feel so cold?
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Clang!
Hand over her eyes, Maggie peeked through her fingers, her silent groan in stark contrast to the whoops and hollers of Blaze and Finn while Aiden, Dash, Jake and Angus whistled them on from the back porch.
“I am so sorry, Maggie,” Libby whispered, her voice as gloomy as the dark shadows of night that crept over the mountains, the pink glow of dusk fading along with Maggie’s hope.
Maggie gave her a quick hug. “It’s just a silly game, Aunt Libby, so please don’t worry about it, all right?” She swallowed hard. That’s my job.
“Better luck next time, ladies,” Finn called with a wink at Aunt Libby, who nervously picked at her nails while she offered Maggie a repentant look.
Maggie mustered a weak smile. She’d need a whole lot more than luck with Blaze winning their secret challenge issued the night before …
“How ’bout we celebrate our two months of courtship with a moonlight picnic?” he’d whispered in her ear last night, the warmth of his lips on her neck making her wish she’d sat in the rocker instead of the swing.
“How ’bout a noonday picnic instead?” she countered, knowing full well that darkness would not serve her well in her efforts to keep Blaze from pursuing his ongoing quest for serious sparkin’.
He’d nibbled her ear, tumbling her stomach along with her willpower. “Why don’t we let a game of horseshoes decide?” He deposited a kiss to her nose, as if to soften the threat of the damage his lips could do. “You’ve beat me the last few games after all, and you can even team up with Sheridan if you like and I’ll take Finn, so what do you think?”
What did she think? Alert! Alert! Alert! A warning sign blinked in her mind, telling her this probably wasn’t a good idea. She scooted away … “I don’t think so, Blaze—”
“Look, Mags, you and Sheridan are practically unbeatable, and if I win”—he ducked to stare in her eyes, finger tucked to her chin—“which is highly unlikely since you’ve beat me every night this week—“I’ll give you anything you want.”
She cocked her head, assessing him with a leery eye. “Anything?”
He placed a hand to his heart, his little-boy smile trampling her defenses. “Anything.”
Gnawing her lip, she considered his offer, thinking it would be sheer heaven not to have to be the strong one when he melted her bones with a kiss. And frankly, she was getting tired of being the one who took this courtship so seriously, as a pathway to a deep and abiding marriage rather than just a reason to spark. She studied his handsome face with a keen eye, knowing full well he’d buck like a mule with measles if she limited him to one good-night kiss on the porch. But if she won with those terms, what choice did he have?
And frankly, what choice did she have? Since the night he agreed to courtship two months ago, he’d been so very loving and attentive. But there was no denying a subtle thread of resistance in him she couldn’t quite put her finger on. All she knew was that it manifested itself i
n his growing persistence to push Maggie beyond her boundaries whenever they were alone. And this little wager might just be her answer. After all, with Sheridan on her team—who had fine-tuned her skills even more than Maggie—how could she lose?
“All right, you have a deal.” She held out her hand, and he shook it with a wide grin. Right before he hauled her into his arms with another belly barnstorm of a kiss. Gasping for breath, she distanced him with shaky palms to his chest. “If I win, one kiss per day,” she rasped, chest pumping for air, “and no outings alone, including the front and back porch.”
“What?” He launched to his feet so fast, she bobbled on the swing. Hands welded to his hips, he leaned in with a tic in his temple. “You can’t be serious—we’re courting for pity’s sake, Maggie.”
She shot up as well, arms barricaded to her waist. “I assure you I am, Blaze. The question is, are you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The smile dissolved on her face. “It means I’m starting to wonder if we’re courting because you love me or because you want me.”
He turned away, gouging a hand through his hair. “Hang it all, Maggie, why can’t it be both?”
Her heart sank a little, along with her hopes. “Because true love doesn’t seek its own,” she said quietly, praying he would understand the kind of love she longed for, “it surrenders it.”
He scowled, looking so much like a petulant little boy, she was tempted to tousle his hair. “Blast it all, what happened to good ol’ give and take?” he groused.
“Oh, it’s alive and well, Blaze, I promise.” She stood on tiptoe to gently brush a kiss to his cheek, her smile tender as she cupped his stubbled jaw. “And I’ll prove it tomorrow after I win at horseshoes, cocky cowboy.” Patting his cheek, she’d given him a smug smile. “When I ‘give’ the rules and you ‘take’ them seriously.”
“Maggie?” Libby’s whisper jolted her back to Blaze’s cocky smile as he shook Finn’s hand across the way. “I wish Sheridan could have been your partner, sweetheart,” she said with a wring of her hands, obviously upset she’d lost Maggie the game. Although Maggie hadn’t told her the terms, her aunt had known how much this contest had meant between her and Blaze. Her aunt sighed as she gave Maggie another hug. “Honestly, who knew Jake was taking her and Shaylee into town to spend the night with Connie Michele Edwards and her sister Laurie Mae?”
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