by Lia Riley
His hips jerked and he slid heavy across her palm before easing back. “Annie, you’re going to be the death of me.”
She licked her lips and scooted closer. His eyes closed, and the candlelight revealed how tight his jaw ground down. He’d been hard enough when she first touched him, but as she ran her hand up, dragging the tip of her thumb over the head of his shaft, he became granite.
“Is it difficult, for you to let me do this?”
“A little.” He opened his eyes, and the intensity of his stare struck her like a shot. “This is a moment I’ve dreamt about for ten years.”
No pressure. “And is this how you expected it to be?”
His gaze roamed her face as if committing her to memory. “No, it feels about a million times better.”
She rose on her knees and he joined her. The tip of his shaft pierced the water, long, thick and every inch a man, but she couldn’t shake the oddly protective sensation taking hold. As if behind that strength was a vulnerability. A man who needed love.
She slid over to him and he placed his two big hands on her back, between the dimples at the base of her spine.
He smelled too good to resist. She pressed her face into his chest and burrowed in, running her tongue over the flat of one nipple. He hissed through his teeth, so she went and did the other.
“Annie, I need you. I need you now.”
“I know.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I NEED YOU now.
He wasn’t telling her the whole truth. He didn’t need her now. He needed her for always. His pulse beat in his ears, a primal rhythm like fists on a drum. Never had he been so aware of himself or another person. He sensed the lines that separated them, knew exactly where he finished and she began, and yet . . . and yet it was as if another part of him, invisible but undeniable, fused to hers.
He’d touched women before and felt lust, but this was outside of time. He’d cracked the code and realized the secret to the universe was here, in this woman he held.
“I . . . ” He couldn’t finish. If he tried to tell her all of this she’d think he was nuts. At worst case.
She trembled now, and he did too, his entire stomach shuddering with pent-up desire.
At best, she’d still retreat, because one doesn’t simply say, “Our souls fit together. You’re the half I’ve been missing.”
That was a lot to take in.
“Please.” It was all Annie could manage with her dry throat. “Please. I . . . I . . . ”
“Shhhhh, now,” Sawyer murmured, his scruff rough on her neck even as his arms were gentle at her back. “I know.”
“Do you . . . ” She rested a hand on his cheek and felt him still. “Do you really want me?”
“Annie,” he said hoarsely. “I require you.”
She leaned against him, her heart pounding against his. “That’s how I feel.”
“It’s . . . it’s always been you,” he said gruffly. “All the times I wondered what was missing. It was you.”
“I felt the same way.”
“Sometimes, I’d be out looking at the stars and I’d think ‘Is Annie Carson looking at these same lights?’ ”
“Maybe I was.”
“And now you’re here.”
“Right here.” She slowly undid the necktie of her bathing suit and peeled it down over herself, baring herself inch by inch. When she finished, she slowly lifted her face to meet his shadowed gaze.
“Annie . . . ”
She tried to speak, but no words came.
“You’re goddamn gorgeous.” He looped an arm under her knees and kept one on her back, carrying her to shore. Most nights were cool in the mountains, but tonight’s sultry heat clung to the air. He eased her onto the blankets and she rolled on one hip as he spooned her from behind, planting a soft kiss on the back of her neck, running his hand down her hip bone, tracing where the inked birds flew across her skin. Her muscles tightened, but not in a good way. Her jaw locked.
“Hey,” he rumbled. “You okay?”
“I . . . I don’t know what’s happening,” Annie said helplessly. She was suddenly tense, so tense, because this had to be a perfect moment. Sawyer against her, and above them a canopy of stars. This was so long in coming, it had to go exactly right, and the pressure took away some of the fun. Oh shit, oh shit, calm down, breathe, oh shit, oh shit, oh—
Up the hillside came a loud moo.
“What the fuck.” Sawyer clutched her against him and they looked up. A cow stared at them from a rocky outcrop.
She burst out laughing and he joined her.
“That startled the shit out of me,” he said.
“Runaway cow.”
“From a nearby ranch. Maybe ours. I’ll grab her tomorrow.”
She placed a hand over her heart. “The moo.”
“You jumped from your skin.” He fell to the ground laughing and she joined in, and then it happened. She relaxed, happy and free.
He slid between her legs, his fingers warm, and she offered a muffled groan when he skimmed her, turning to hook a leg over his powerful thigh.
“Hi,” she said.
His eyes shone with their own light. “Hey.”
“So we’re going to do this.”
“Yes. We are.” He sat up, grabbed his bag and a box ripped open, followed by the crinkling of foil.
“Let me do it.”
“Put on the condom?”
“Yes.” She took it from his hand and sat, kneeling between his legs, setting the rubber against his wide tip. She slid it down and it fit, just. “Does that feel okay?” she asked, circling his base.
He managed a nod.
She crawled over him. With his size, she wanted to be on top this first time, figure out what she could realistically take. She positioned herself and . . .
“Oh.” It was like her whole body formed the word and he slid through the middle of it.
“You okay?” he ground out.
She rocked in reply. Holy God, so much better than okay. He hit everything she needed to make this work, and as she rode him, he reached for her and took both her hands, pulling her close, so that her belly skimmed his taut abdomen and her breasts crushed his chest. They didn’t kiss, exactly, but breathed against each other, and she knew he was doing the same as she was, feeling, concentrating on the slow slide of their bodies, absorbing the realization that this moment was happening at last.
She leaned back, savoring every stroke, letting him hit her where it was best. On and on she rode, and in the last crashing moment, right before she hit the peak, he groaned.
“Annie.” The need in his voice was her undoing.
“Sawyer.” She slipped over the edge, and as soon as she said his name, he joined her. She fell against his chest and he held her close, hooking his chin over the top of her head. His skin smelled of sweat and him and even her. She liked knowing that she was there, imprinted on his body.
“Your smile.” His voice was thick with emotion as he traced her lips. “I love that Annie smile.”
“Aren’t all my smiles mine?”
He shook his head, laughter rumbling in his ribs. “This is the best one I’ve seen in a long time.” He tucked the quilt over her shoulder. “It’s what I think I’ve been put here for.”
“What’s that?” she asked, drifting. Funny how three minutes ago she was fully aware and now she was exhausted, but in a good, bone-deep way, as if she’d been used well and used in kind.
He kissed her cheek, then the other. “To make you smile that way.”
There was a lot of possibility behind that simple sentence, but her eyes drifted closed, and the crickets hummed, sending her closer to stupor. “Sounds good to me.”
“Does it?” He ran his thumb down her cheek. She didn’t know what she was doing with her life, b
ut if it came with Sawyer offering to give her smiles, maybe things weren’t so bad.
“Are you always this good?” She poked his rib and he yelped. “Oh my God . . . ” She poked again and held on tight as he wiggled back. “You really are still ticklish.”
“No,” he gasped. “Annie! Stop, don’t.”
“The big, strong sheriff is ticklish.” She got him again and he roared.
“That’s it, you’re paying for this.” He moved to grab her.
“Am I?” She tickled him again and his arms windmilled before he lunged, catching her by the waist and yanking her down, breaking her fall with his own body. Then he rolled, pinning her down with both hands, his erection hard against her hip. She rocked against it with a playful thrust. “Is this a citizen’s arrest?” She gasped, wrapping her legs around him. God, his body.
And just like that, he became her willing prisoner.
“Lord, woman,” he groaned when they were able to speak again.
“Mmmmm.” She rolled onto one hip as he covered them with a quilt. “You should rest up. It’s a big responsibility keeping all of us townsfolk safe.”
“Sleep?” He traced her top lip before dipping back for yet another kiss. “I don’t plan on either of us getting much sleep tonight.”
As she tangled her fingers in his thick hair, reaching for a shared future, with him, seemed within her grasp. But could the power of such a moment stretch into forever?
Chapter Twenty-Three
AS THEY LEFT their swimming hole the next morning, Sawyer announced his intention to take her out on the town that night, dinner and drinks at the new wine bar, Bottom of the Barrel. That was how Annie found herself stepping down from his truck at dusk and taking his hand as they ambled Brightwater’s Main Street. The sidewalks were quiet, but how many eyes stared at them behind the storefront windows?
He turned as she started to pull away. “I want to hold your hand so everyone sees it.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she muttered under her breath. Why hadn’t she dressed more incognito? A scoop-necked turquoise dress and lavender flats? Big dangly brass earrings? Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. Black would have been better. Something that whispered, “Don’t look at me. Don’t notice.” Still, when she’d come downstairs after a long post-camping shower, Sawyer whistled in appreciation, and when he kissed her behind the ear, his words, “You taste as good as you smell,” made everything seem all right with the world.
That well-being faded with the daylight.
She slung her purse higher over her shoulder and pasted on a grin that could win its own Best Actress Award. She’d do this. Tonight was for Sawyer. Tomorrow Atticus returned. Gregor had called this afternoon and asked if Margot could accompany him. Apparently she missed Annie as much as Annie missed her. She loved her stepdaughter, or former stepdaughter, and hated labels.
Like what was Sawyer? Not a boyfriend—exactly, and definitely a lover. But that dismissed the place he held in her heart.
What to say then?
Hello, this is Sawyer Kane. He is my everything.
Okay, a little intense. How about the piña to my colada?
Doubtful she’d be hired by Hallmark as a Valentine’s Day card maker anytime soon.
She increased her grip on his hand. Earlier, as they had bumped along the gravel road, her phone had caught a signal. When she’d checked the messages there’d been one, from Hank King. A competitive offer had been made on Five Diamonds and he wanted to know if she’d come into the office tomorrow and go over the specifics. Apparently the buyer wished to remain anonymous, but the sum was staggering. Seven-figure staggering. And they were motivated.
Claire and her dad would be thrilled, so why did her own heart feel flat?
And she hadn’t found a way to break the news to Sawyer either.
Not that this was bad news. Far from it. With that kind of money on the table, Atticus would have a more than ample college fund and San Francisco’s exorbitant home prices wouldn’t be as intimidating. She’d be able to raise her son in a place where he could fly his freak flag without judgment, she could grow her blog, and with any luck, a stable career for herself. Indeed, this was great news. She should be doing random heel-clicks and running through meadows like Maria from The Sound of Music.
But all she kept thinking was what if she stayed here in Brightwater?
Sawyer’s own phone rang. “Sorry about that,” he said, glancing at the screen. “Shit, it’s the office. I need to take this.” He released her hand and stepped away, walking off a short distance, speaking in low, terse tones. He kneaded the back of his neck, a gesture that indicated he was upset.
A whistle came behind her. She ignored it with an eye roll.
“Hey, it’s that Carson freak. Wonder if she likes to get freaky too?”
“Damn, I’d ride that ass into the night.”
Oh no they didn’t. “Excuse me?” She hugged herself and turned. The three male faces went blank. One had a black mesh cap that read “Farmers Play Well with Udders,” bushy red hair stuck out the sides.
They looked vaguely familiar. A couple of Sawyer’s second or third cousins that she’d gone to school with.
She resisted the urge to tug down her skirt. “If you have big words to say, let’s hear you say them to my face.”
Then Sawyer was there, fisting Udder’s shirt and slamming him against the light pole. “Did you disrespect her?”
“What the fuck, cuz? Put me down.”
“Annie.” Sawyer’s voice was quiet, calm, and utterly terrifying. “Did this bonehead cousin of mine say something to offend you?”
“Let him down, Sawyer, it’s fine.” She was insulted, but Sawyer didn’t deserve to get locked in his own cell because of it.
“You heard her,” the big guy whined. “I didn’t say nothing.”
“You’re not only an asshole, but a liar too.” Sawyer knocked his head against the pole, and the sound of skull thwacking metal made Annie grind her molars.
“Ten years ago you got the upper hand on me. I tried to let bygones be bygones, but now here you are giving me a reason. You ready to put this right?”
The other man nodded, his face purple.
“Apologize.”
“You shitting me?” His eyes bugged at Sawyer. “When are you going to learn? Who cares about her? She’s a kooky Carson, man. A freak.”
“Her name is Annabelle.” Sawyer lifted him another inch. “Her friends call her Annie, but I don’t think you’re counted as one of those.”
“Sawyer, stop it,” Annie said, touching his shoulder. His muscles bunched under his shirt.
“Sorry, Annabelle,” Sawyer gritted out to his cousin. “This is your last chance.”
“Sorry. Annabelle,” the other man gasped, feet kicking the empty air.
“Boy! Boy!”
Grandma Kane plowed between the parked cars, taking the whole situation from bad to worse.
She stormed past Annie without a second look. “Boy,” she shouted, and Sawyer blinked.
“Benny here—”
“I don’t give a one-eyed goat for Benny. I care about my grandson making a spectacle of himself over—” She doubled over with a coughing fit.
Sawyer pat her on the back. “Grandma, are you okay?”
“Terrific,” she snapped. “Never better. Got a dang frog in my throat.”
Annie peered closer. Grandma Kane’s skin held an unsettling pallor. She didn’t look well, didn’t look well at all.
Sawyer reset his hat. “I have to be rude and step aside for a little while. My deputies have a battery case and need a hand. I’m sorry this had to happen on our date.”
“Date?” Grandma Kane’s face did interesting things. Her paleness gave way to mottled shades of purple and red.
“Hopefully this won’t take long. We’ve
got a drunk and disorderly in custody.” He gave Annie an apologetic glance, ignoring the duck noises emanating from Grandma. “Want to go ahead to Bottom of the Barrel and order a bottle of something good? I’ll be along quick as I can.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Annie said with forced brightness. Grandma glared at her behind his shoulders and seemed about to drag a bony finger across her throat in an age-old threat.
“Great. See you soon.” He gave her a distracted kiss on the temple. “You should go home and take a nap,” he said to Grandma, and strode in the direction of the sheriff’s office.
Oh, Sawyer. Annie took a deep inward breath. He was perfect, but still a man. He had no idea he’d left her in one hell of a pickle.
Annie slowly turned to Grandma, who eyed her like a lion over a fallen gladiator and resisted the urge to shout, “We who are about to die, salute you.”
The older woman raked the point of her tongue along the seam of her lower lip. She coughed again, but the last thing she looked like she needed was a nap. “Well, well, well, Annabelle Carson, looks like you’ve gone and sunk your hooks into my favorite grandson. Remember, if you break his heart, you’ll be dealing with me.”
Break Sawyer’s heart? Funny, she’d been so focused on not breaking her own heart, she hadn’t given a thought to his, except to be grateful for how strong and caring it was. But if he had the power to hurt her, it stood to reason she could hurt him too. And that was the last thing she ever wanted to do.
“Um, I should be going. Are you sure you’re all right?” Annie took a step backward. The wine bar was across the street and a cab sav sounded better than good. She needed to drink and mull.
Grandma look a step closer. “Going is what your people do best, isn’t it? Remember, I have my eye on you, missy, and don’t forget that.”
Annie hustled across the street, Grandma’s gaze tracking her the whole way. It was like being in the crosshairs of a hunting mountain lion. She reached Bottom of the Barrel as the door swung open and out stepped Quincy Bankcroft redoing a cufflink.