“No!” I burst out.
Both men look at me.
I shake my head wildly, ignore the nausea which rolls up into my stomach. I can’t meet Jett’s stunned eyes, I plow ahead, “Colt saved me. He stays.”
Jett grumbles darkly, places a light kiss on my forehead, compassion wipes out some of the fury in his eyes. He looks much more like the easy, fun loving Jett I’m used to, he tries to smile for me, “I’ll wait outside until he leaves then we can talk,” he says stiffly.
Colt doesn’t move as Jett leaves.
I look beseeching up at him, the veil has fallen from his eyes revealing a wealth of pain and regret. I want to share it with him, let him know I don’t blame him. I reach out shaking hands, “I need to hold you,” is all I can say for feelings that cannot be truly explained.
He shudders as if he too is holding something in and would like some excuse to let it out. He gathers me carefully into his arms, buries his face in my damp hair.
He sucks in ragged breaths as he fights to hold it all together, “Angie …” his voice breaks and he struggles to not fall apart, “I’m so sorry.”
Safe in his arms … the pain is there but the feel of him around me takes the edge of it.
His words make no sense, “No,” I say again and this time there is growing strength in my voice, “I was the idiot, just like you’ve said before. I went in without thinking.”
He turns his face slowly to mine, our noses brush. Delicious warmth spreads across my cold cheeks … and I do it.
Chapter six
The kiss is soft, just a slide of my lips against his closed mouth. His eyes flare wide, large flecks of amber burn trapped in their depths, it makes me shiver because I’ve never seen them so clearly before. I tremble, his eyes are eating me alive, they rove my face, I suck the stubborn edge of his bottom lip into my mouth. Still he doesn’t move. He’s frozen. I begin to shiver violently. Aghast at what I’ve done, I close my eyes to block out the disgust which will leap into his eyes any moment. I lean back, breaking our lips apart.
Shame snakes like bile through my mouth, making it bitter, bringing back the cold from the river. Maybe I’d been mistaken? I’d gotten my signals messed up and he is now wondering what kind of slut his brother is involved with.
With shaking hands, I draw back, keeping my eyes cowardly closed.
He doesn’t let me.
“Open your eyes Angie,” he commands softly.
“No, I can’t,” I reply brokenly.
His hot breath fans my face, he’s so close.
“Yeah, you can darlin,” he pauses here and I flinch from the coming hurt, but his next words nearly make me cream my pants, “I want to look into your eyes as I taste your mouth for the first time.”
My eyes snap open and I see what I’ve been dying to see, his need. It’s there in the taut skin across his lean cheekbones, the softened slant of his harsh lips. I lunge forward but he stops me with a flick of his palm.
“We do this, it changes everything darlin.” His eyes are hard with purpose.
I nod, heedless of the hard truth behind his words. Tenderness blossoms in his eyes but I’ve barely enough time to take this in as I charge ahead and slam my mouth against his hard lips. He chuckles tenderly against me and it feels so sweet that what is within me cannot merely be called desire, it’s too weightless and vast to be satisfied to be explained with such a trite term. I need him. I know with a sense of searing loss and elation that it can be never be the same again for me. His lips are hot and I swoon against a thick rush of pleasure which pools inside my blood.
His hesitation lasts for just a heartbeat … then he begins to devour me. His tongue is sweet and hot, the taste of intense black coffee seeps off of him, tasting so good I’ll never allow him to drink anything else. He ignites me, the cold, aching spots on my body begin to take flush with vibrant need. He drills it into me, kissing me hard, bruising my lips, pulling out the taste of me through my skin. He wants to know me in this moment and his kiss is one of desperate longing and too soon he knows what I like. The deep stab and hot twirl of his tongue around me, his hands fisted in the hair at my nape with my neck extended backwards. He wants to dominate me, claim a right he’d only have if we had been lovers for years instead of moments. He delves beneath the soft spots under my tongue, on the side of my gum, the tickly, erogenous zone at the roof of my mouth, which zings through me and I tear out a handful of hair from his scalp. He doesn’t break the kiss. He roots deep, determined to get all I have to offer. My fists curled against his chest begin to pummel at him, there is no other way, sort of scalping him that I can let out the storm of intensity that rides me without mercy.
He lets me as I suck crazily on his lips, I’m so greedy I nip it hard enough to draw blood, and though my limbs are still weakened by my ordeal I strain against his pounding heart which jerks both of us, demanding more. He palms my head in his work roughened hands and kisses me so good I have a mini orgasm that shakes me so hard I grind my bottom into the packed dirt beneath my sleeping bag, the jolt of it forces me to scream and he has to hold me ruthlessly still, his lips sealed over mine, so not a sound escapes. Moments that last forever pass before I lurch back to reality. And the slow, unpredictable swipes of his tongue still inside my mouth, jolts of afterglow arch my back again. Shuddering I thread unsteady fingers through the baby soft hair at his nape, my fingertips come away sodden-
I pull back, our mouths disconnect with a wet, juicy sound that sends another zap of pleasure up my spine, the hair on my head gets goose bumps. His chest is rising hard beneath my palms and the front of my blanket is moist. I look up and the need in his eyes squeezes the breath in my throat, it’s so desperate that I blink up at him several times to try and focus on something other than my raging hormones.
I point at his white shirt, “you’re wet,” my voice is low and breathy.
He looks down at his shirt as if he too just realized that he’s sitting beside me soaking wet, his brows scrunch in confusion, “Yeah, so?”
“You should change,” I turn away and looking for something to do to keep my hands from holding him here with me, grasp at the edge of my damp blanket and pull it up to my neck. Pretty late I know but being around him makes it so damn hard to hide. It’s like I cannot hide what I want from him. The worst part is after what just happened he should know exactly what I want.
He studies me for a few moment, I squirm, my cheeks burn. He gets to his feet, he doesn’t let go of my eyes all the way out of the tent. And he doesn’t say another word.
I watch him leave, moments later Jett comes back into the tent. He reaches for me and I stay still, hating myself but I just can’t touch him now. Not after what I’ve done.
He misses all of this, “mom and dad should be here in a few minutes, they set out this morning behind me,” he says and reaches for my hands, he plays with my fingers.
I try to pull them from his touch but his grip is firm and I have to relent or come up with an explanation, I chose the safer route for now. In an ironical twist I’m protecting him from me because … I still love him and having that feeling there sitting inside my chest, beside the gnawing hunger for Colt, hurts more than when I thought I’d die.
He draws me into his arms, I flinch from the familiar scent of him, the tangy scent of fresh pine leaves crushed between your fingertips. I fight to relax against him, he drops a kiss on my cool cheek, an adorable smile splits his lean, handsome face, his blue eyes sparkle, “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says and his face is filled with light.
My mouth drops open but words don’t come. He scoops me up and I start to struggle terrified, “put me down Jett!”
“No,” he’s cheerfully adamant as he carries me from the tent, he looks fondly down at me, “I had wanted this to be very romantic and in a way you nearly dying, fucked up as that was, is even better.”
“What?” I gasp, look around and there are all the ranch hands, Marjorie, Michael, Jett’s grandparents w
ho are sitting in an ATV. Big, happy smiles on their proud, weathered faces.
Jett turns back to me, “will you marry me, Angie?”
It’s almost as frightening as my near drowning. I can’t breathe, I hunt for air, turn away from the faces swarming me, their love and happiness pull me down as surely as the cold waves that came close to taking my life hours before.
But there is one face I have to see, I search and he’s there. At the back of the small crowd. Beside him stands several old ranch hands, men in their seventies who didn’t drive cattle anymore but who Jett’s parents keep around because loyalty and honor are as important to them as the air they breathe.
But I don’t care! It’s Colt I need … but as I watch him, feel our eyes find each other in the awful press of expectation and bodies, his broad shoulders slump, he’s still wearing the wet shirt from earlier as if he’d not had time to change before our world smashed apart.
The torment in his eyes makes me gasp, Jett holding me takes the gasp for shock at his proposal, my lips burn to tell him to put me down. Now!
And this nearly causes me to miss it.
Colt nods once, hard, unforgiving and turns away from me, breaking eye contact … and my heart.
I cry out as the cold, unrelenting pain of rejection slices down into me, I bury my face in Jett’s shoulders and shake with horror.
Jett cradles me protectively in his arms, “folks she’s overwhelmed,” he says gaily to them.
I feel like a deer caught in the savage glare of headlights, with not enough time to escape cause I know I’ll be hit, I just don’t know how hard or bad it will be.
Laughter and claps ring out, it rakes on my nerves, makes them bleed more.
“Put me down,” I whisper hoarsely, surprised that I can still speak, though my voice trembles with effort not to start screaming at them all to leave me the hell alone.
Jett’s brow scrunches, but love shines tenderly from his eyes, it rips me apart just a little more. I can’t face him, instead I stare at a random grey button on his worn plaid shirt. He places me carefully on my feet that wobble with weakness. He doesn’t let me go.
He winks at me, throws back his head and shouts with laughter, turns to our audience, “that’s my gal, nothing does her in. She’s like this land and my family,” his eyes glitter with tears of happiness, makes me feel like the lowest piece of shit. He gets to his knee, pulls out the ubiquitous black velvet box from his back pocket, opens it and holds it up to me, “it’s your favorite color,” he says, I groan and fight the urge to sob. A ½ carat yellow diamond set about with crushed smaller diamonds in a bed of 18 carat gold looks steadily at me. It’s like sunlight wrapped in stars … Like Colt’s eyes. I nearly choke on the guilt that crushes my wind pipe, Jett must’ve spent a good chunk of his savings on it.
Behind me gasps of delight ring out.
“Oh Jett,” Marjorie croons behind us with such longing in her voice I want to snatch the ring from Jett’s fingers and fling it at her, say here take it on me. But she stays put in the back and I don’t have the guts to hurt this man whose love for me shines so peacefully in his earnest blue eyes.
He slips it onto my unresisting finger, plants a feathery kiss on my fingertips, gets to his feet and hugs me close, he looks into my eyes and I know he’s got to be seeing the terror there, the absolute certainty that I don’t deserve him.
But he smiles as if he’s getting a glimpse of paradise instead, he says for my ears alone, “Please Angie, marry me?
From somewhere I understand instantly why Colt had turned away from me, no matter what he feels for me, he doesn’t have it in him to hurt his little brother and … neither can I.
“Yes,” I whisper in a scratched voice to Jett, his face bursts open with dazzling happiness, the blue of his eyes blaze like a clear summer’s sky. He whips me up into warm, strong arms. I close my eyes, let the last of my strength leave me and collapse into him.
He must never know and I will never stop hurting. I struggle to breathe as I look forward into the future I’ve created for myself. And all the while it feels as if someone is taking their fingers and driving them into my chest one by one.
Chapter seven
“Let’s have a barbeque,” Marjorie scurries up behind us, Jett lets me go and Marjorie throws her hands around his shoulders, hugs him tightly, there are tears in her eyes.
She leans back, cups his face tenderly in her hands, “my baby boy, I can’t believe it.”
Jett chuckles, “I hope marriage will permanently put an end to you calling me that?”
She shrugs, “maybe,” then looks at me standing still behind them. She lets go of Jett who disappears into the rest of the family for congratulations.
“Angie?” Marjorie’s blue eyes so like her son are tender with understanding, “you’re shocked?”
I swallow, smile weakly, “yeah, you could say that.”
She gives me a tight hug, “don’t worry, we like you already. You love the land and our way of life, you’ll fit in just fine.”
I nod, I can’t trust myself to speak, she takes my hand and leads me to the back of the crowd … too late I see where we’re headed and I jerk my hand away from her. She looks askance at me, then to Colt who is trying to slip away but can’t, not with his mother’s sights set on him.
“Colt!” She gestures him impatiently over to us, he stalls for a moment, then gives in and stomps over. Marjorie turns to me, shrugs, “Colt’s .... stubborn.”
“Uh huh,” I confirm.
Marjorie carries on as if Colt can’t hear us from five feet away, “don’t mind him … he doesn’t like anybody.”
“That’s not true!” the words are out of my mouth before I have time to think. I wince. Marjorie’s face is stunned, but she doesn’t say anything to my sharp retort.
Colt stands before us, hands thrust deep into his pockets, his golden eyes are cold, and spikes of dark hair springs down onto his forehead, “Mother?” he asks.
Marjorie draws a resigned breath, “I’m sure you heard Jett and Angie are getting married?”
Colt’s eyes are unreadable, “Yes,” his voice is clipped as if the word is chipped from him, he will not look at me though I’m silently begging him to.
Marjorie claps her hands, “Let’s have a barbeque to celebrate.”
Colt nods, takes off towards the cattle to find a suitable candidate. Marjorie reaches for me, I duck away and without caring I run after Colt.
I follow him, his steps are long, ground eating things made possible by legs just as long and powerful, I have to literally run to draw up beside him.
“Slow down,” I hiss.
“Go back,” he barks.
“You can’t make me,” I fling back childishly.
He swears harshly, we take a few more steps, he stops and looks back, everyone is too far away to hear us, though we’re plainly in site. The cattle herd is a few yards ahead of us, he glares at me, “what do you think you’re doing?”
My heart kicks up a beat, but I won’t hide from the truth, “following you,” I admit.
Torment flares in his eyes, “are you fuckin insane?”
My lips tremble and my hands clutch into fists, I nod bleakly, “yeah, I’m a weak asshole but I can’t stay away from you.”
He bears his teeth in a feral snarl, “learn to!”
Stung beyond endurance I cry out, hastily lower my voice, “Can you? Is it that easy for you?”
He forgets himself, forgets we’re in plain sight of my husband to be and his family, “You’ve no idea how I feel!” he grinds out between clenched teeth, his nostrils flares.
I shake my head, try to rub away the sudden cold on my arms, “that’s where you’re wrong buddy,” I look up at him and let him see the torment that twists my face, “I know exactly what you feel, I-“
“Stop,” he barks softly, he relentlessly searches my eyes, “this is a family, what we wanted isn’t more important. Not anymore.”
“My mar
rying Jett is?” I whisper shocked.
Colt snaps his eyes closed, starts walking again, “we’ve made a choice. It’s for the best.”
I stop following him, stand in the rich black dirt ploughed through with a thousand hooves. His stiff, tall back going further away from me.
I have a choice. Go back to Jett and Marjorie and all the others or stay with Colt. I need these last moments alone with him. I keep walking towards him. He sees me come up at some point but he doesn’t comment. We walk around the herd which gets jittery from our close inspection.
They know something is up. I almost feel sorry for them. Will the mother of the unfortunate calve we’re looking for feel pain like we do. The big, soft brown eyes of the cattle, some heavy with young, tell me that they do. Pain is pain no matter what you are.
Colt finds a calf just past a year.
But he doesn’t take it. The mom walks hastily away from us, the young calf clings to her side.
Colt follows them, careful, yet undeterred. The mom begins to jog beside her panicked young, mooing. Colt stays with them, doesn’t rush it. This goes on for forty minutes.
I don’t hear Jett come up behind me, I jerk as he squeezes my shoulder in passing. Goes to Colt still walking beside the yearling.
“You’re wasting time, old man,” he says quietly so he doesn’t spook the cattle.
“No,” Colt responds in softer voice, “I can’t just snatch her child.”
Jett laughs, there is a note of derision in his voice, “that’s bullshit Colt. If we all had your tender feelings we’d eat nothing but tofu.”
Colt shrugs, doesn’t take his eyes off the target. Jett stalks in, grabs the calf by the neck, the calf struggles and Colt grips Jett’s hand and snarls, “easy man, what the hell’s the rush?”
“Mom has the fire going already.”
Colt’s snorts, steps away from the calf, “she’ll have to wait for another hour or two.”
Love me ... Again Page 4