Ford’s eyes widened. “That’s not true. I’m the one who gambled. I’m the one who didn’t know how to tell Pop and you guys that I wanted out. I felt trapped.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you bear plenty of the blame too.” A brotherly tease snuck into Mack’s voice when he was least expecting it. “But I didn’t make it easy on you. None of us did. I should have offered you an out. I’m sorry I didn’t understand how much you hated the garage and your life in Cottonbloom.”
Ford knitted his fingers together at his nape and tilted his face down, his eyes hidden. “I didn’t hate it. At least, not at first. But Pop pitted us against one another, and I always came out the loser.”
Mack rubbed the heel of his hand over his chest. “I was jealous of you.”
Ford’s head popped up. “What?”
“You went to college and made Pop proud. I felt like I had to play catch-up in Pop’s eyes, so I threw myself into the garage and the cars.”
“That’s what you wanted though.” Confusion crept over Ford’s face. “Right?”
“Yes. It’s what I wanted, but your success at school fired a desperate kind of competitiveness I couldn’t control. Things got ugly, and I’m sorry for that.”
“I’m sorry too. For more things than I can list at the moment.”
Mack believed him. He took a sip of his cooling coffee and looked around. “Not a bad place. You like Memphis?”
“It’s alright. Big enough for a man to get lost in. I like that after Cottonbloom.”
“You got enough money?” Mack chewed the inside of his lip, hoping he wasn’t overstepping. He didn’t want to squash their burgeoning reconnection.
“I got a job. Insurance and investments. Finally putting my degree to good use. Lowest rung, but if I can pass my standards test, I’ll be up for a promotion. I’ll get it. I’m good.” The Abbott confidence hadn’t skipped over Ford after all.
Mack smiled. “I’m glad. And happy for you.”
“You’re not here to talk me into coming home? Because I’m not leaving.”
The fact Ford still referred to Cottonbloom as home was telling, but Mack shrugged. “You’d be welcome, but I understand why you need a fresh start. I hope you won’t be a stranger though. The aunts miss you something fierce.”
“I miss them too.” Ford looked away and rubbed his nose as if trying to quell his emotions. “Aunt Hy hit anything lately?”
“A curb jumped out in front of her the other day, but nothing living. Aunt Hazel’s been pushing me to contact you for a while. And our mother too.”
“Is that how you got my address?”
“Just came from her house. She made cookies and sent them along with me. I left them in the truck though.” Along with Ella. She was probably getting cold and bored. He needed to make a move.
“What are you going to do about her?” Ford asked.
For a heartbeat, Mack thought he was referring to Ella. And the question reverberated in his head. It would need an answer. And soon. But then, reality settled. Ford had been asking about their mother, not Ella. “I invited her down to Cottonbloom. Maybe you two could come together?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Although, it wasn’t a commitment, his smile lent Mack hope everything would be okay. Not tomorrow or next week. Maybe not even for years, but eventually. “She’s been really great to me the last few months. Like a real—” Ford’s mouth thinned and clamped shut.
“Like a real mother.”
Mack and Ford let out two identical sighs, and then shared a soft laugh.
“I started remembering things when I was around her.” Ford’s voice was soft, as if imparting a secret.
“When she gave me the bag of cookies tonight, it’s like I was six and standing on our porch while she handed us our sack lunches. You remember the notes she would put in?”
Ford smiled and shook his head. “I used to act embarrassed if one of my friends saw, but I loved those notes.”
“I did too.”
The silence that fell between them wasn’t quite companionable, but Mack could foresee a time when it might be. He ran his hands down the front of his jeans. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”
“You can stay. The couch is comfortable.”
“I appreciate the offer, but Ella is in the truck, and I need to get her home.”
“Ella Boudreaux rode all the way up here with you? You didn’t kidnap her, did you?”
“Nope.” Mack couldn’t stifle his smile.
“Holy crap. You and Ella Boudreaux?”
“Me and Ella.”
“She’s so sophisticated and gorgeous. How the hell did that happen?”
A laugh burst out of Mack, and he knuckle-punched Ford on the arm. “You don’t have to sound quite so shocked. I have my charming moments, or so I’ve been told on occasion.”
“Wow. How serious is it?”
“Not sure. The garage complicates matters. I still want her portion back in Abbott hands.” Mack moved toward the door and stepped outside.
Ford leaned in the doorjamb, his hand braced on top of the door. “Don’t be as obsessed as Pop was and put the garage above your happiness.”
Mack let the advice sink in a moment before nodding and sticking his hand out. Ford took it and, before Mack could react, pulled him into a brief hug.
Ford’s voice was a near whisper. “Thanks for making the first move. Not sure I would have ever found the courage.”
Mack tapped his fist on Ford’s back and pulled away. “Sure thing, bro. Come home to see us, okay? We’ll kill the fatted lamb and everything.”
Ford smiled at Mack’s reference to the prodigal son. The aunts would be proud they’d retained something from their forced march to Sunday school every week as kids.
The door closed. He turned away in time to see his truck door open and Ella slide out. The frayed threads of his past had been smoothed and knitted into something new tonight.
She met him halfway across the parking lot. Before he could question himself, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms tight around her. She understood his inner workings like she had read a manual.
“Did it go well?” Her voice was muffled in his neck.
He curved himself around her and took a deep breath. “Better than I expected. Better than I deserved.”
“What now? Do you want to get a hotel or something?”
Part of him did, but a bigger part of him longed for home. Home with her. “I know it’s a haul, but I want to drive back tonight. Ford made me some coffee.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
They loaded back into his truck and headed south. Knowing every minute and every mile brought him closer to home regulated the chaos raging in his head. They stopped for food and talked about inconsequential things, but it felt natural and comfortable.
Finally, at four in the morning, the sign designating the Cottonbloom, Mississippi, city limits flashed.
“You want me to drop you at your house?”
“My car’s at the garage.” She yawned.
“Let’s crash at my place then. We both need sleep.”
She listed over and laid her head on his arm. “Okay. You did promise me a sunrise, but this is not how I envisioned it.”
He pressed a kiss on the top of her head. He envisioned weeks, months, years of sunrises on the horizon. He parked in front of his house. Everything was quiet and peaceful, and he heaved in the dewy air. The birds were waking and calling out greetings.
Like a sleepwalker, Ella made her way straight into his bathroom. He followed with a towel and a T-shirt in case she wanted to shower. He perched on the edge of his bed waiting for her to finish. His body was exhausted but his mind was punch-drunk with lack of sleep and bounced around, ignoring all logic.
She emerged with damp hair, his T-shirt hanging to mid-thigh, and made her way to the bed like a robot. He stood and flipped the covers back. With a groan, she fell to the mattress and snuggled under the co
vers.
He took his turn in the bathroom, taking a five-minute shower before pulling on a pair of boxer briefs and padding to the bed. She was asleep, curled up on her side facing his pillow with her arm extended as if waiting for him. He slipped under her arm and repositioned her with her head on his shoulder. She slipped her leg between his and lay half on top of him.
Sleep remained elusive. Luckily, the next day was Saturday, and they could sleep in. Although, no doubt one or both of the boys would be by with questions as soon as they spotted his truck out front. He’d ignored their texts, unwilling to lie.
“I used your toothbrush.” Her admission was mumbled, and at first he thought she might be dreaming.
“What’s that?”
“I used your toothbrush. Was that overstepping?”
“No. I don’t mind.” Which was weird because with any other woman, he was pretty sure he would mind. The intimacy of her confession settled his mind enough to drift into a deep sleep.
Chapter Nineteen
He woke to bright sunshine and a hand in his underwear. And not his hand. He kept his eyes closed and his body relaxed as much as possible considering what was happening in his pants.
God, it felt fantastic.
“I know you’re awake.” Ella’s voice was husky from sleep but melodious with laughter. “You’re not snoring anymore.”
He cracked his eyes open, squinting in the light. Ella was up on an elbow, her head propped in her hand, staring down at him with the sexiest bedhead he’d ever seen.
“I don’t snore.”
“Don’t worry, it was a cute snore and not a snorting kind.” Her hand continued to perform magic under the covers. “There’s no one to interrupt us. Megan is at my place. Trevor doesn’t know where you live. My phone is dead. It’s Saturday. We missed the sunrise, but we could stay in bed all day and catch the sunset.”
He’d never been with a woman he’d wanted to loll around in bed with all day. Until now.
“Sounds like a plan.” He tugged at the hem of the shirt she wore. “I like you in my T-shirt.”
“Would you like me better out of it?” Her voice was sultry and her eyes half closed.
“Yes. Take it off. Now.” His voice had taken on a growly edge at her teasing.
Her hand on him stilled, and her breath caught. She sat up, jerked the shirt off, and went after the sheet to pull it over her breasts. He caught the edge and whipped it away from her body. She was naked.
“Mack.” Embarrassment drew his name out of her mouth and caused a flush to bloom over her chest.
“That’s pretty.”
“What is?”
Instead of answering with words, he let his hands and mouth show her what he thought was pretty. Which was everything. The next time she said his name, it emerged on a moan.
Her hands tore at his underwear, and his were equally as frantic to get free of them. He kicked them off and rolled to his back, maneuvering her into a straddle across his hips. She covered her breasts with her arm.
Where did the woman who had been teasing him about rolling around in the sheets all day go? It was becoming clear, she was all talk and little experience. Well, he could expand her experience right quick.
He lifted his head. “This doesn’t seem right, does it?”
A look of relief flashed over her face. He scooted up on the pillows so he was half-sitting with her still in a straddle.
“Much better.” He skimmed his hands up her sides to cup her breasts. Her hands fell to his chest, her nails digging into his skin in pleasure-pain.
“It’s too bright,” she whispered as if someone might overhear and be scandalized. “And the windows.”
“No. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” His words must have had some effect, because she rotated her hips on him and her gaze met his.
“Can I…” She pulled her lip between her teeth and slowly released it, leaving it plump and red. Was she trying to torture him?
“You can do whatever you want, babe. But, if you’re taking suggestions, I would love to be inside of you.” He grabbed a condom from the nightstand and handed it to her.
She ripped the package open and pulled the circle of latex out. “I just roll it on, right?”
“You act like it’s your first time?”
“Putting a condom on a man? It is. I’ve been on the pill—”
“You’re on the pill?”
“Yeah. Have been since I was eighteen.” She glanced away and back to him. “Do you want to skip the condom?”
“That’s like asking a man if he wants to drive a Shelby Cobra. Ninety-nine point nine percent will say ‘Hell yes.’ And I’m clean.”
“Me too. In that case…” She tossed the condom over her shoulder, lifted her hips, and lowered herself excruciatingly slowly.
He could feel every inch of her wet heat around him. Closing his eyes, he took two deep breaths and tried not to embarrass himself. She rolled her hips and ground against him, propping both her hands on his chest.
He let her ride him however she needed to as he concentrated on her breasts. One of her hands fluttered across his stomach but stopped before reaching the point where they joined.
“Go on. Touch yourself.”
She did, and Ella taking charge of her pleasure and using him as the instrument was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He wanted it to last forever, but too soon, her head fell back and she moaned her orgasm. Employing all his self-control, he kept himself from seeking the same quick end.
Only when her body turned boneless did he move. He shifted her off him and onto her hands and knees, facing the headboard. Kneeling behind her, he tilted her hips and drove inside of her. Their bodies were both slick from her orgasm.
He took a dozen hard thrusts. She met every one. A wildness built then threatened to break free. He wrapped a hand in her hair and tugged, her back dipping. The new angle invited him even deeper inside.
If it was all about him, he would finish this way, but he wanted more for her. He let go of her hair, scooped his hands under her arms, and pulled her up until her back was against his chest. Her head fell back against his shoulder.
“That’s better,” he murmured while nuzzling past her hair to her ear.
The connection, both physical and emotional, was tangible. She reached behind her and took hold of his hips, urging him back into a rhythm. This time he took her slow and deep. He slid a finger between her legs and cupped a breast with his other hand.
She squirmed against him. “A little harder.”
He worked her harder from all directions. The ripple of her second orgasm sent him careening toward his own. He bit the side of her throat and groaned, burying himself inside of her until his spasms ceased.
He pushed her down to the mattress with his weight, still on top and still inside. Once his toes uncurled, he forced himself to roll off her. She continued to lie there with her face in the covers.
“I’m dead. I think I’m dead. Am I dead?” Her voice was muffled.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to crush you.”
“Not that.” She waved a hand over her bare butt. “All of that.”
He grinned at the ceiling. A rap on his front door wiped his smile away.
“Knock, knock!” Wyatt’s voice carried to the bedroom and grew closer. “Are you okay?”
He cursed, rolled off the bed, and yanked his jeans on.
“He wouldn’t just walk in, would he?” Ella scrambled under the covers.
Considering Wyatt had never had to worry about walking in on him and a woman before and the fact Mack had taken off the day before with little explanation and without returning any texts, the answer was yes. Wyatt would barge straight in and embarrass everyone.
Mack quickstepped out of the bedroom and pulled the door shut. He was fastening his jeans when Wyatt turned the corner from the den to the hall. He stopped short. “There you are. Is everything okay?”
“Fine. It’s fine.” Mack spun Wyatt around and he
rded him into the kitchen. The endorphin rush from sex had been overtaken from the adrenaline rush of Wyatt’s arrival.
“You didn’t return any of my texts. You could have been in a ditch for all we knew.” Wyatt propped his hands on his hips in a fair mimic of Aunt Hazel. Except he was dead serious.
“I’m sorry, man. Took a road trip to Oak Grove.”
Wyatt’s hands dropped. “To see Mom.”
Even though he had posed it as a statement, Mack nodded. “I saw Ford too.”
“Are you ready to discuss it?”
He wasn’t. He was ready to loll around the bed all day with Ella, but apparently those plans were shot to hell. “Jackson around?” At Wyatt’s affirmative, Mack continued. “How about we powwow in the barn in ten.”
“Sounds good.” Wyatt stopped with a foot out the door. “Do we need to get Ella’s car back to her place?”
“Uh, no.” Mack rubbed his nape. “She’s here.”
Wyatt’s mouth drew into a circle the same time he fought a smile. His smile morphed into a grimace. “Oh crap, I almost pulled a coitus interruptus, didn’t I?”
Mack shushed him. “I’ll meet you in the barn. Brew some coffee, would you? I pulled an all-nighter.”
“You dog! I’m impressed a man of your advanced years can still do that.”
“Driving. I was driving. Mostly. Now get out.” Mack threw a pillow from the sofa at Wyatt, but he escaped and it bounced against the screen door.
Mack padded back to his bedroom. Ella was huddled under the covers with a pillow over her head.
“He’s gone,” Mack said.
“I’ll never be able to look him in the eyes again.” The pillow remained in place.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his lips twitching. He didn’t want her to think he was laughing at her. “At least it wasn’t Aunt Hazel. She might have dragged you out to the reading of Bible verses on sins of the flesh.”
“Does everyone make a habit of letting themselves into your house?” She pulled the pillow off her face and tucked it under her arms, her shoulders bare.
He wanted to run his fingers along her curves and strip all her physical and emotional defenses away. A deep breath quelled his primal urge to pounce. “Up to now, it hasn’t been an issue, to be honest.”
Set the Night on Fire Page 24