by Nina Croft
No one bad could ever produce something so wonderful.
Now his big hands, the nails ingrained with oil, lay flat against her stomach, as if he was feeling for the life inside. His skin was dark against her paleness. He made her feel fragile, breakable. And she had to be strong.
She’d told herself that she was going to distance herself, try to see their relationship objectively, somehow prevent the heartache she knew was heading her way, but surely she was allowed this. Her body ached for him, her breasts swelling, tender and needy.
He shifted his hand and lowered his head, pressing his lips to the spot where his palm had been. She was sure it wasn’t a sexual gesture, but heat and need fused in her belly, between her thighs.
He must have seen something in her face, because his nostrils flared, and he rose to his feet. She didn’t take her eyes from him as he tugged his T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the carpet behind him. He kicked off his boots, then unsnapped his jeans, lowered the zipper, pushed them down over his hips. He was already fully aroused, and her breath caught in her throat.
He was totally naked when he came down on her. She opened her arms to him, parted her thighs so he could lie between them, his weight held up on one elbow while he caressed her with the fingertips of his free hand. Trailing lightly over her cheeks, her throat, the upper swell of her breasts. He followed the touch with light butterfly kisses that made her skin tingle and her soul yearn for more.
She needed this.
One-handed, he somehow managed to unhook her bra—he might not have had a girlfriend for a while, but he’d had enough along the way to get very proficient—then she pushed such thoughts from her mind. This was just her and Tanner—no ghosts from the past. He peeled the straps from her shoulders and flung the garment away, then lowered his mouth to her breasts.
He kissed one nipple and then the next, sending heat shooting down through her belly to her sex. They were far more sensitive than they’d ever been before her pregnancy. He licked with his tongue, then drew one into his mouth and suckled gently. A pulse throbbed between her thighs, and she worried she might come just from his mouth on her breasts, and she wanted him deep inside her when she came. He’d been holding himself slightly above her, and she needed to feel him, had to know he needed her as much, though she could sense that in the intensity of his touch. She squirmed, and he raised his head and stared into her eyes.
“Please, Tanner.”
“Since you ask so prettily…” He lowered his hips into the cradle of her thighs, so she could feel the scalding length of him pressed against her. He shifted his hand between their bodies, and for a moment he cupped her sex, his fingers pushing inside, sinking into the wetness. Then he was opening her, placing the tip of his erection at her core. He held her gaze as he filled her with one slow lunge of his hips, and she wrapped her legs around him as though she would never let him go.
He made love to her slowly. Before they might have had sex, but whatever his real feelings—or lack of them—for her, this was making love. The slow, intense glide and press of his body into hers. The excruciating drag of flesh against flesh as he pulled out, only to push back inside as far as he could go, rotating his hips against hers, massaging her sensitive clit with his pelvic bone, so the pleasure built inside her, spreading out from that spot until everything tingled and heat coalesced in her belly.
He wrapped his arms around her, burrowed his face against her neck as the first shudders trembled through her body. He kept moving, in and out, grinding his hips, and instead of dissipating the pleasure continued to grow, lifting her higher and higher, straining her tighter. When she thought she could take no more, he raised his head and kissed her mouth, his tongue pushing inside, and she finally shattered into a thousand pieces. For a long time, she lost herself as pleasure pulsed through her body. She’d think it was over, and he’d move, and she’d go off again and again. Finally, he went still. She opened her lashes to look straight into his silver eyes, his expression almost dazed as he stared down into her face. Holding her gaze, he pushed into her again, his back arched, and he came inside her, with a long shuddering moan.
He collapsed onto his side, still deep inside her, throwing his long leg over hers to hold her in place. Then his lips took hers in a slow, drugging kiss.
“That was the best,” he murmured.
She would have agreed but wasn’t sure she could still talk. So she closed her eyes and nestled herself against his sweat-slicked chest. She was sure she was equally sweaty, but she liked the idea. She’d think again in a minute, but it was hard to think with him still deep inside her.
They had to get back, pick up Mimi and her horses. But she didn’t want to move. She thought Tanner was asleep, but when she shifted against him experimentally, his arm tightened around her.
Finally, and very unromantically, she had to pee. Blame his baby. She had no doubt he would understand, because he seemed to have read just about everything about pregnancy that was ever written. She couldn’t fault him for not taking an interest.
When his arm tightened again, she admitted, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Oh.” He let her go immediately.
She glanced around. Found her T-shirt on the floor and pulled it on. It covered her to the tops of her thighs. She crossed the room, then the hallway to the downstairs cloakroom, and had her pee, washed up, all the time managing to avoid looking at her reflection in the mirror, because she didn’t want to know what she looked like right now.
She suspected she looked like a woman in love, and that wasn’t acceptable. So she splashed cold water on her face and tried to scrub away any expression with the towel.
When she got back, Tanner was fully dressed and sitting on the sofa, arms resting on his outstretched thighs. He looked up as she approached, a wary expression in his eyes. What was he so afraid of? That she’d ask for more than he was willing to give? Probably. Because in her secret heart, she wanted all of him. Every last cell, every last thought.
She was an idiot.
She found her panties, pulled them on, then her jeans and boots, and came and sat down next to him.
“Thank you,” she said.
That got his attention. He turned to face her. “For what?”
“For making love to me so beautifully and carefully and magnificently.”
Maybe she’d gone too far; a faint flush colored his sharp cheekbones. She’d embarrassed him. But he was made of sterner stuff. “Thanks, babe. Best fuck ever.”
She should have expected it. He was just staying in character. And she hadn’t really expected anything different. And she supposed it was a compliment of sorts, but… No buts. She could do this. So she pasted what she hoped was a patently false smile on her face and patted his leg. “Well, I’d have been happy to be in the top ten.”
He blew out his breath, and something flickered in his eyes. “I’m sorry. That was a crass thing to say.” He ran a hand through his hair, which was loose around his shoulders. “It’s just you…scare me.”
She frowned. That didn’t seem likely. Though he had mentioned it before. “I do?”
“You want me to be something else, something I’m not. I know you like how I look, how I make you feel, but you hate who I really am. And I’m fucking up your life and…”
She studied him, then stroked her finger along his nose, the slight bump where it had just been broken, then along the yellowing bruising around his eye, while she thought about what to say, how to answer him. Because in some ways he was right. Just not totally right. But she had taken too long to answer, and he rose to his feet.
“I wish I could be the man you need me to be, but I can’t, Emily. I can’t turn myself into some sort of Ryan clone. No one would ever believe it anyway. You have to accept me as I am.”
But the question was—who was he? The jean-clad, greasy, tattooed ex-con who stuck the proverbial finger up at just about everyone who he ever met? Or the piano-playing romantic, who could touch
her so deeply and so sweetly he brought tears to her eyes?
If he would only try and meet her halfway. But what did that even mean? Cut his hair? Just the idea made her want to scream: no! She loved his hair. Shave? Again she couldn’t imagine him without the facial hair—it tickled her when she kissed him. Cover up the tats? They were a part of him, and besides, covering up that killer body would be a crime. Stop purposefully annoying people? Yup, that would be a start.
But that couldn’t come from her. He had to discover it for himself, and she suspected he was far too blind on this subject to ever see the light. She stood up and wiped her hands down her jeans. “Come on, we’d better go check on your pony and get back and pick up Mimi.”
For a moment, she thought he was going to say something. Confusion flashed across his face, then he seemed to give himself a little shake and he held out his hand to her. “Definitely the best fuck ever,” he said.
And that would have to do for now.
If they never had to interact with anyone else, she reckoned they could be happy. Unfortunately, that was never going to happen. They had to live in the world.
And soon she’d have to face the school board. And somehow, she’d have to convince them that, despite evidence to the contrary—her fiancé’s very impressive black eye and broken nose—marrying Tanner did not make her immoral.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Five days later and he was still quite aware that he had fucked up majorly with how he’d ended that last conversation with Emily. But he couldn’t think of a way to make things better.
When they’d parted on Friday night, she’d asked him to give her a little space. Not to come around and not to call. And he had fought every instinct that screamed at him to be with her, not let her out of his sight. He’d gotten used to speaking to her each day, and he missed the contact. He felt as though she was slipping away.
“Why don’t you come with me tonight?” Josh said.
Josh had been spending most of his spare time at the ranch. For the first time since Tanner had met him eight years ago, he seemed…happy. Relaxed and at peace.
So at least things were going right for one person. Reese and Keira were also spending their evenings over there, learning how to look after Keira’s new pony. It seemed like he was the only one who was persona non grata at the ranch.
“She doesn’t want me there,” he said. He sounded pathetic even to himself.
“Are things not working out between the two of you?”
He picked up a wrench from the bench, the bench where he’d…he cut off the thought and hung the wrench in its place on the wall. “You doing the counselor thing again?”
“No. I’m just a friend who’s trying to stop you fucking up your life.”
“She asked me to stay away.”
“She probably doesn’t mean it.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “She did.”
“She’s just worried about her job, that’s all.”
And he could hardly help her there. Hinder, more like. “They can’t fire her now. She might be pregnant, but she’s getting married. If there’s anything immoral about that, half the population of Saddler Creek will be going straight to hell. Fucking hypocrites.”
“Let’s hope you’re right. Because Mimi will be going to war if Emily loses that job, and she doesn’t need the stress.”
“Is she all right?”
Josh shrugged. “She says she’s fine. But she has MS, and stress is one of the things that can lead to a relapse.”
“You been reading up on it?”
“Yeah. Just like you’ve been reading up on babies.” Josh shrugged into his jacket. “Is it okay if I take the truck?”
“Of course.”
“Sure you won’t come?”
“I might call her after I close up, get a feel for what she’s thinking. See if I’ve stayed away long enough.”
After Josh left, he tried to lose himself in work. Everyone had finished for the day, and he had the place to himself. He couldn’t concentrate, though, and after he squirted himself with oil from the engine of a bike he was working on, he decided to give up for the night. He wiped his hands and face on a piece of rag. There wasn’t much he could do for his T-shirt—it was covered in oil.
He paced the floor a couple of times. Put away a few tools.
He was being a pussy. He should just call her and ask if he could come over. They still had to set a date for the wedding. That’s if she still planned on going through with it. Before he could change his mind, he grabbed his phone off the table and pressed her number. It rang a couple of times, and his gut clenched. She wasn’t even going to talk to him.
Finally, she answered. “Tanner?”
“Yeah. Look, I was wondering…” His stomach churned. He couldn’t remember when he had wanted something so much.
“Tanner?”
“I thought I’d maybe come over tonight. We could talk.”
She was silent for a moment, and his fingers tightened on the phone. Come on, say yes.
“I’m sorry, Tanner. Not tonight. I’m really tired, and I’m just going to have an early night and…”
“Please, I just want to talk.” Christ, he was begging now.
“Not tonight. Maybe this weekend. Good night, Tanner.”
And she ended the call. He stood staring at his phone for a minute and then threw it against the wall. “Fuck.”
The bell on the door rang as someone entered the showroom. He combed his hands through his hair and pressed his fingers into his skull. She was driving him crazy. He’d said he was sorry about the fight. Though he wasn’t. He’d done what needed to be done.
He took a deep breath and headed into the showroom, then stopped abruptly as he caught sight of the figure standing ramrod straight, staring straight ahead, at the counter.
What the hell was Jed Forrester doing here? In all the years since he’d been back, he had never known Forrester to voluntarily enter a room he was in. It was a small town, and occasionally their paths crossed. They usually pretended the other didn’t exist.
Forrester was seventy, the same age as Mimi, though he’d aged much worse. He was too thin, though his figure was upright, his hair white, and as always, he was impeccably dressed. But Mimi radiated life, and this man never smiled.
He’d lost a son, but he still had a daughter. Mimi had lost her only child. But she still exuded a joy of life that kept her young at heart.
Tanner walked slowly over, came to a halt behind the counter directly across from the other man. Forrester glanced at him, then away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at him. Tanner was used to it. But what the hell was the old guy doing here? It hardly seemed likely he was here to buy a Harley.
He cleared his throat. “Can I help you?”
“As a gesture of good faith, I want you to fire Joshua Simpson and ensure he leaves Saddler Cove and doesn’t return.”
For a moment, the words didn’t make sense. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, something about Emily, maybe, but not this. “What?”
“He’s a murderer and a danger to the town.”
Tanner forced down the anger that was choking up in his throat. “Have there been any complaints I should know about?” He wouldn’t believe that for a moment. But he needed to get to the bottom of this.
“The man has been spending time with Miriam Delaney. Taking advantage of a vulnerable widow.”
For a second, Tanner had no clue who he was talking about. Then he realized he meant Mimi. A vulnerable widow? Was this some elaborate joke?
Hardly likely from Jed Forrester. He never joked, certainly not with Tanner. He was still thinking of how to answer when Forrester continued. “If you do that, then I’m sure I can ensure that the board will look more favorably on Ms. Towson’s case.”
Now that did get his attention, and not in a good way. He rested his hands on the counter and leaned forward. Forrester took a step back. Good. “Let me get this straight,” he sa
id quietly, because if he let his anger get away from him, he’d be roaring. How dare the fucker play with peoples’ lives? “Are you saying that if I fire Josh, then Emily gets to keep her job?”
“It will prove that you have the good of the town at the forefront of your mind. I will put in a good word with the board regarding Ms. Towson.”
“And why would she need a good word? She’s getting married. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
Forrester looked at him then, allowing his hatred to show, but still his words came out measured, emotionless. “Ms. Towson holds a position of trust. The young minds of Saddler Cove are in her hands. Many people believe that you are not a suitable husband for a woman in such a position.”
He’d be calling Emily vulnerable next. “You think she’s going to corrupt those kids just by being married to me?”
“You destroy everything you touch.”
How could he argue with that statement? But for the first time since he’d returned to Saddler Cove, he wanted to. He wanted to scream that he was fucking innocent. That it wasn’t his fault. That he hadn’t been driving the car. That it wasn’t fair.
Like a big fucking pathetic kid.
He turned away for a moment and stared at the wall. His hands were fisted at his side, and he forced his fingers to relax, one by one. He breathed deeply, and when he was sure he had his feelings in check, he turned around.
“I think you should leave now.”
The man nodded. “I’ve said what I needed to say. Think about it.”
“Never going to happen.”
“Then Ms. Towson will pay the price. But isn’t that your way, Mr. O’Connor? Someone else always pays for your mistakes.” And he turned and walked away.
Tanner stared at the door for long minutes.
What a fucking mess.
But no way would he fire Josh. Never going to happen. And why did Forrester want Josh fired, anyway? Was it just another way to get at Tanner? Or was there something else behind it?
He needed to warn Emily. She was going to be devastated. But maybe she’d know how much power Forrester had. Whether he was bluffing.