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High Country Baby

Page 18

by Joanna Sims


  “I want to try tonight.”

  She had healed, for the most part, physically. She still had quite a bit of baby weight to lose and her stomach had a lot more padding than she wished, but Clint had done his best to make her feel good about her post-baby body. It was her mental state that was the problem. She didn’t feel sexy in her mind and she was scared. She was scared to be sexual again—she was scared of being in pain—she was scared that things just wouldn’t work they way they did before. But, the truth was, they had been married for several months and hadn’t consummated their marriage. It was time.

  “Are you sure?” Clint had his arm around her shoulders.

  Taylor looked into his eyes and saw so much love there. More love and acceptance than she had ever experienced with a man. How unlikely that she had found unconditional love from her high country cowboy.

  “I think I’m ready.”

  Clint tucked her hair behind her ear and then his warm hand rested on her neck. “I want to make love to you, Taylor. But I can wait—as long as it takes.”

  She leaned into him, put her hand on his clean-shaven face and kissed him. He had turned out to be such a good man, with such a good heart.

  “I’m ready,” she reassured him.

  Clint polished off the rest of his beer, took her hand in his and blew out all of the candles, except for one that he took with them. Instead of taking her to bed, he took her to the bathroom. With the candle as the only light, Clint turned on the shower, adjusting the water to her liking. They both stripped out of their clothing and Taylor was relieved that Clint had thought to bring the candle. Candlelight was so much more forgiving than light bulbs.

  Taylor stepped into the shower, letting the warm water rain down over her body. She dipped her head back to wet her hair.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Taylor.” Clint poured his wife’s favorite liquid soap into his hand.

  Taylor opened her eyes. “I’m glad you think so.”

  Clint stepped into her body so he could begin to wash her. His soapy fingers slipped down her shoulders and over her breasts. He was careful to avoid her C-section scar as he ran his hands along the wide flare of her hips and down her thighs.

  Clint’s strong fingers on her naked, wet skin ignited the smallest flame of desire—she hadn’t felt aroused since before their daughter was born. She had begun to wonder if her libido had disappeared for good. But Clint’s mouth on her breast, tantalizing her nipple with his tongue, and his cupped hand between her thighs sent pleasure impulses from her erotic core fanning out all over her body.

  Taylor closed her eyes with a barely audible gasp of pleasure as her body began to relax. Her husband sucked on her nipple one last time and then moved his mouth to her neck. He licked the water off her neck, nibbling her skin until he gently bit her earlobe.

  Clint kissed his wife’s mouth, tasting the sweetness from the wine on her tongue. They stood together, their slick bodies pressed together beneath the water, their tongues intertwined in a deep kiss. Clint’s hard erection slipped between her thighs and it would be so easy for him to slip inside of her body.

  “Oh...” Taylor moaned against his lips.

  “I want to make love to you right here, right now...” Clint curled his body into hers and tightened his arms around her.

  He wanted to keep going but knew they couldn’t. They had agreed to not try for any more children. After Taylor’d had such a rough time giving birth to Penelope, coupled with the loss of their son, neither one of them wanted to risk putting her through another pregnancy. Until he scheduled a vasectomy, they had decided to use condoms.

  “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered.

  They dried off quickly and raced to their bed, laughing like teenagers about to have sex for the first time. Clint put on a condom and met her under the covers.

  Taylor was on her back and Clint had pulled the blankets over their shoulders. He lay on top of her, careful not to give her too much weight. He kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Clint reached between them and guided himself into her opening. He dropped his head and buried his face in her neck as he slowly, so very slowly slipped into her body. He held himself back, not wanting to hurt her.

  “Are you okay?” Their bodies connected again, after such a long time. Clint had to focus his mind to keep his body in check.

  She wrapped her arms around him, breathed in the familiar scent of his skin and nodded her head.

  “Just go slow,” she whispered into his neck. “Just go slow.”

  Clint moved slowly and sweetly, kissing her, massaging her breasts, whispering words of desire and coaxing her body, moment by sensual moment, to relax and revel in their lovemaking.

  “I love you, Taylor,” her husband murmured in her ear. “I love you so much.”

  Taylor wound her legs around her cowboy’s thighs and held on to him tightly. She arched her back as he lifted her arms over her head and threaded their fingers together.

  “I feel you coming...” Clint groaned into her neck. “God, you feel so damn good, baby. So damn good.”

  “I love you, Clint...” Taylor dug her fingernails into his back as the wave of her climax crested and rolled over her body.

  He had held back for as long as he could. It had been months since he’d had been able to release the sexual tension building inside of him.

  Clint’s orgasm co-occurred with a loud, “Ahhhh...”

  “Shhh!” Taylor laughed happily. “You’ll wake Penny!”

  Clint dropped his head with his own laugh. He pressed little kisses all over her face that ended with a long kiss on the lips. After a quick run to the bathroom to get cleaned up, they jumped back under the covers. Taylor snuggled into Clint’s body, her hand resting over his heart. Clint was like his heartbeat—strong and steady.

  “We are officially man and wife now,” she informed him.

  Clint brushed her hair out of the way and kissed her forehead. “Any regrets?”

  “No.” She lifted her head a bit so she could look at his face. “Why do you always ask me that?”

  “I suppose—” Clint pulled her in closer “—this life still don’t quite seem like it’s meant for me.”

  “You deserve a great life, Clint. You deserve to be loved and cared for. You always have.”

  Her cowboy hugged her a little tighter. “I’m not exactly what you would’ve picked out of a catalogue, now, am I?”

  “No,” Taylor admitted with a laugh. “That’s true. But it just shows you how wrong I was about what I needed in my life.”

  She turned to her other side and Clint turned with her and wrapped her up in his arms. She was starting to get overheated, the way she always did, but she forced herself to ignore it so she could prolong the embrace. Soon Clint would return to the rodeo circuit and she would miss moments like this. He must have been thinking along the same lines, because he brought up his impending departure a few moments later.

  “You know...the rodeo is my business—you and Penny—you’re my heart.” Clint hesitated before he added. “You know you can trust me when I’m out there, right?”

  “Yes. You let me know how much you love me every day,” she reassured him. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  “Yes. I do,” Clint murmured sleepily. “Are you hot yet?”

  “Burning up...”

  “Do you want me to let you go?” he asked on a y
awn.

  “Never...” She held on to his arm. “Go to sleep, cowboy.”

  Penelope wasn’t sleeping through the night yet; grabbing a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep was a luxury.

  “Good night, sunshine. I love you.”

  “I love you more...” Taylor blew out the waning candle on the nightstand and then closed her eyes with a satisfied sigh of happiness.

  The past year of her life had been filled with an incredible mixture of joy and pain and love and loss. She had come to Montana to ride the Continental Divide and write the first page of the next chapter of her life. How could she have known that she was about to meet the man who would give her the child of her dreams? How could she have known that she was about to meet the man who would show her what unconditional love was all about? Taylor knew that her life would never be perfect, but finally, her life was perfect for her. Her beautiful daughter was asleep, safe in her crib, right down the hall, and she was safe, right here in the arms of her high country cowboy.

  * * * * *

  Don’t miss Casey and Brock’s story, MEET ME AT THE CHAPEL, the next book in Joanna Sims’s THE BRANDS OF MONTANA miniseries, coming soon.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from LUCY & THE LIEUTENANT by Helen Lacey.

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  Lucy & the Lieutenant

  by Helen Lacey

  Chapter One

  Brant Parker grabbed the T-shirt stuffed in the back pocket of his jeans and wiped his brow.

  It was cold out, but he’d been working for four hours straight without a break and it was quite warm inside the closed-up rooms of the Loose Moose Tavern. He’d spent the best part of three weeks stripping out the old timber framing and flooring that had gone through a fire eight months earlier.

  Most people said he was crazy for buying the place, like it had some kind of hoodoo attached to it. But he didn’t believe in hoodoo or bad luck, and he wasn’t swayed by anyone telling him what he should or shouldn’t do. The Loose Moose had been a part of Cedar River for over thirty years and he believed the old place deserved another chance.

  Maybe he did, too.

  Brant dropped the piece of timber in his hands, stretched his back and groaned. It had been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to soak under a hot shower and to relax in front of some mindless TV show for an hour or two. But first he had to go to the veterans home to visit his uncle, as he did every Tuesday and Friday.

  Uncle Joe was his father’s oldest brother and a Vietnam veteran who’d lost a leg in the war. He also had a heart condition and suffered from the early stages of Parkinson’s disease. He lived in full-time care at the home adjacent to the small community hospital. Brant cared deeply for his uncle. The older man knew him. Got him. Understood the demons he carried.

  He headed upstairs to the small apartment and took a shower, then dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. It was snowing lightly, a regular occurrence in South Dakota in winter, but quite unusual for mid-November. He shouldered into his lined jacket, pulled on woolen socks and heavy boots, and grabbed his truck keys. The home was a ten-minute drive in good weather from the main street in town and since snow was now falling in earnest, he knew the roads would be slippery. Brant took his time and arrived about fifteen minutes later. It was late afternoon and the parking lot was empty, so he scored a spot easily and got out of the truck.

  The wind howled through his ears and he pulled the jacket collar around his neck. It promised to be a long and chilly winter ahead. But he didn’t mind. It sure beat the relentless, unforgiving heat of a desert summer like the last one he’d endured in Afghanistan. The light blanket of snow made him feel as though he was home. And he was. For good this time. No more tours. No more military. He was a civilian and could lead a normal life. He could get up each morning and face a new day. And he could forget everything else.

  Brant headed for the front doors and shook off his jacket before he crossed the threshold. When he entered the building, heat blasted through him immediately. The foyer was empty and the reception desk had a sign and a bell instructing to ring for attendance. He ignored both and began walking down the wide corridor.

  “Hi, Brant.”

  The sound of his name stopped Brant in his tracks and he turned. A woman emerged from a door to his left and he recognized her immediately. Lucy Monero. He cringed inwardly. He wasn’t in the mood for the pretty brunette with the lovely curves and dancing green eyes, and tried to stay as indifferent as possible. “Good afternoon, Dr. Monero.”

  “Please,” she said just a little too breathlessly. “Call me Lucy.”

  He wouldn’t. Keeping it formal meant keeping her at a distance. Just as he liked it.

  Instead he made a kind of half-grunting sound and shrugged loosely. “Have you seen my uncle this afternoon?”

  “Just left him about ten minutes ago,” she said, smiling. “He said he’s feeling good today. The nurses left food on the tray, so perhaps see if you can get him to eat something.”

  “Sure.”

  She didn’t move. Didn’t pass. She simply stood there and looked at him. Examined him, he thought. In a way that stirred his blood. It had been too long since anything or anyone had stirred him. But Lucy Monero managed it with barely a glance.

  And he was pretty sure she knew it.

  “So, how’s the shoulder?” she asked, tossing her hair in a way that always made him flinch.

  A trace of her apple-scented shampoo clung to the air and he swallowed hard. “Fine.”

  He’d dislocated his shoulder eight weeks earlier when he’d fallen off his motorbike. She’d been one of the doctors on duty at the hospital that night. But he’d made a point of ensuring she didn’t attend him. He hadn’t wanted her poking and prodding at him, or standing so close he’d be forced to inhale the scent of her perfume.

  “Glad to hear it. I was talk
ing to your mother the other day and she said you plan to reopen the tavern in the next few months?”

  His mother had made her opinion about Lucy Monero clear on numerous occasions. She was Lucy’s number-one fan and didn’t mind telling him so. But he wasn’t interested in a date, a relationship or settling down. Not with anyone. Including the pretty doctor in front of him. Her dark brows and green eyes were a striking combination and no doubt a legacy from her Italian heritage. She wore scrubs with a white coat over them, and he figured she’d just come from the emergency room at the hospital where she worked. But he knew she was also filling in at the veterans home a couple of times a week while one of the other doctors was on leave. Uncle Joe thought the world of her, too. And even his older brother, Grady, had extolled her virtues after she’d attended to his youngest daughter when the child had been taken to the ER a couple of months ago with a high fever.

  Brant did his best to ignore her eyes, her hair and the curves he knew were hidden beneath the regulation blue scrubs. “That’s the plan.”

  She smiled a little, as though she was amused by his terse response, as though she had some great secret only she was privy to. It irritated him no end.

  “I’m pleased your shoulder is okay.”

  He wished she’d stop talking. “Sure, whatever.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Well, see you soon, Brant.”

  She said his name on a sigh. Or at least, that’s how it sounded. There was a husky softness to her voice that was impossible to ignore. And it always made him tense. It made him wonder how her voice would sound if she was whispering, if she was bent close and speaking words only he could hear.

  Brant quickly pulled himself out of the haze his mind was in and nodded vaguely, walking away, well aware that she was watching him.

 

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