by Layla Nash
The mountain lion relaxed, ready to do whatever it took to convince his mate to stay.
Chapter 32
Sarah Jane
The next two months passed in a whirlwind. SJ worked her ass off every day, running Rosie's bar while Rosie recovered, then in helping set up and improve the Bear Creek clinic. The makeshift hole in the wall they'd used for small injuries wasn't sufficient for a community so prone to accidents and violence, and once SJ received her nursing certification, she wanted to take over as much as possible at the clinic. The doctor had long since retired but occasionally showed up when a bone needed to be set or there were problems SJ couldn't identify; he and the rest of the town seemed pleased to have a nurse on call.
Rosie was back on her feet in a week or two, though she still got tired occasionally, and so the regular patrons of Rosie's bar got accustomed to even slower service. SJ still helped out at night when it got busy, since the clinic didn't demand that much of her time, and every night that she was there, Tate sat at the bar and ordered his usual hamburger. Except, instead of holding a bottle of whiskey, he held Dakota.
SJ wondered if that would change after the first couple of nights when Tate played with the baby instead of the half dozen beers he normally drank, and some of the regulars made snide remarks about him being a babysitter. But Tate shut them down with a single look and didn't otherwise acknowledge their existence. He just fed Dakota her peas and commiserated on how awful they tasted.
SJ spent the first month waiting for the other shoe to drop, and for Tate to give up and run for the hills. She didn't exactly put him through hell, but she didn't make it easy. And yet he handled everything with good humor and easy-going affection. He came up with cute nicknames, and when she started to relax around him again, Tate would hold her hand or kiss her cheek or play with her hair. All of it was nonthreatening. It wasn't pushy or demanding. She waited for the ultimatum and it never came.
Even Thanksgiving dinner at Simon and Zoe's place up the mountain was perfect. Rosie came as well, and Zoe, practically immobile at nine months pregnant, handed the cooking over to Tate. Zoe then peppered SJ with detailed questions about childbirth, which pretty much cleared the room of everyone else once Zoe asked if it was true she might poop herself during labor. SJ thought her face might catch fire as she tried to explain what it felt like to push a baby out, especially since Tate stood in the kitchen, close enough to hear every gory detail. She wanted to feel mortified, but a hint of terror lurked in Zoe's eyes at the prospect of actually giving birth, so SJ did her best to at least allay those fears. She didn't sugar-coat it, for sure, but she held up Dakota and said, "It's worth it. It's all worth it. The pain, the fact that a dozen people will be staring at your lady business and you'll reach a point where you won't even care who's trying to measure your dilation, the terror of the first time you try to poop after you give birth and you think all your insides are going to fall out... It's worth it. You'll be fine."
Simon peered around the corner, a ferocious scowl on his face. "How many people, exactly, will be looking at my wife's business?"
Zoe snorted, then grimaced and rubbed her stomach. "I don't care how many people see, I just want her out."
"Her?" Tate launched out the kitchen. "You found out? It's a girl?"
"We were waiting to tell everyone," Simon said, shaking his head. But the beaming smile on his face belied the possible regret at the early reveal. "But yeah. We're having a baby girl."
And then chaos broke out as everyone starting shouting and laughing and jumping around, imagining a baby girl in a house full of over-protective uncle bears, and Zoe started crying and SJ cried just a little bit herself, thinking of how lucky that baby was already. She was happy for Zoe and Simon and their little girl, of course, but part of her definitely wished she'd had that kind of support starting out. That Dakota had known a rowdy family to protect her from the very first day. When Dakota got overwhelmed with the noise, SJ took her to sit on one of the comfortable couches by the fire and distracted her with a big set of blocks that Zoe had bought as an early Christmas present.
It wasn't long until Tate appeared and sat on the couch next to her, his arm around her shoulders, and SJ fought back more tears as she leaned her head against his chest. Tate kissed the top of her head. "Tell me why you're sad."
"I'm very happy for Zoe and Simon. They'll have a beautiful baby, and she'll be so blessed to grow up here." SJ nudged some of the blocks with her foot so Dakota was distracted from the fireplace and all the tempting shiny things near it.
"But..." Tate said, resting his chin on her head as he studied the fire.
"But I'm a little jealous," SJ whispered, and felt like a terrible person for even thinking it.
Tate grumbled, something almost like a purr, then pulled her around until her legs draped over his lap and his hand rest on her thigh. "I was too, at first."
SJ blinked, absently touching his chest. "Really?"
"Well, yeah. They love each other a lot, and they found each other out of this entire world full of people, and they got married and they're having a baby. It's perfect, right?" Tate shrugged and held her close, his arms linked around her. "It's perfect for them. We have our own road, Sarah Jane, and I wouldn't trade a moment of it."
She laughed, poking his side and making him jump. "Not a moment? You've got to be kidding."
"Maybe some of the moments," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.
"Like which ones?" SJ's hand drifted a little south and rested on his belt buckle, and Tate gave her a sideways look.
He shifted a little on the couch. "Some of those moments when I wanted to kiss you and drag you into my bedroom but I was being respectful of your request for a glacier like approach to romance."
"I think we're ready for a thaw." SJ bit her lower lip, not wanting to make too much of a scene as the rest of the bears all started popping champagne bottles in the kitchen.
"Hallelujah," Tate said with a sigh. He caught her face in his hands and dragged her close for a scorching kiss, hungry and desperate after being separated for too long.
Sarah Jane drowned in his touch, in the warmth of his lips, the friction of his palm moving over her side under her sweater. SJ caught her breath, sitting up so she could link her arm around his neck, but froze as someone started hooting in the kitchen.
Tate broke the kiss grudgingly, barely looking over his shoulder to shout, "Mind your business," before his lips left a heated trail down SJ's throat.
"Get a room," someone said, and SJ nearly died of embarrassment on the spot. It didn't help that Tate's hands were busy sliding down her thigh and under her butt. When SJ jumped, Tate grumbled a pleased noise and nibbled on her ear lobe.
"Shall we?"
"Shall we what?" she asked, breathless. She could hardly get her thoughts to stay in her head.
"Get a room," he said, his eyebrows arched. "Since making out on the couch is a little teenager-y and we'll have an audience. I don't mind, of course, but —"
"No audiences," SJ said. She tried to wiggle free of his embrace, laughing as he squeezed her waist, and SJ bent to pick up Dakota. "But —" She cut off when she glanced back and saw him staring at her ass, and then smoke might as well have curled off her face because half the house exploded in laughter.
SJ straightened, holding Dakota, and gave Tate what she hoped was a prim look. "It's bedtime for someone else first, though, so you'll have to cool your jets at least a little."
She headed for the stairs, grateful they'd planned to spend the night anyway, and Rosie stormed over to take Dakota from her. "I'll take this little princess for the night."
SJ protested, although Dakota was only too happy to go to her Auntie Rosie, since Rosie let her play with things SJ didn't. "Rosie, I can't expect you to —"
"From the looks of things, this baby wouldn't get any sleep at all in your room," the cougar said, waggling her eyebrows. "So you go get yourself some lovin', darlin', and don't worry about how
much noise you make. There's very good soundproofing in this place."
"Oh my God." SJ covered her face, wanting to sink through the floor as someone else offered to send Tate upstairs with oysters.
"Save that for Tate," Rosie said, and bounced Dakota high until the baby squealed. "We'll be down here celebrating and playing Christmas music as loud as the stereo will allow. Enjoy yourself."
"We're not —"
"Yes we are," Tate said, and caught SJ's waist as he strode up. "I'm sure Rosie and Zoe will have a ton of fun dressing Dakota up. And I heard Zoe collected another half dozen kittens, so maybe Dakota can pick out a furry little friend to bring home."
SJ stared at him. "Bring home?" just as Rosie said, "I don't think so, Thaddeus. I'm the only cat in my house."
Tate rolled his eyes but leaned to kiss SJ again. "I meant to ask you later, and not in front of anyone, but I'd like you to live with me. I redid everything, there's new furniture, a room for Dakota... But if you don't like it, we can find another apartment. Or a house. Wherever you want."
She could hardly process what was happening. SJ managed to stutter, "I'll h-have to think about it," but then Tate laughed and picked her up, carrying her easily up the stairs as the others cat-called from below.
SJ couldn't help but laugh as well as Tate shouldered open a door to one of the guest rooms upstairs, and as Tate put her on the bed, she caught his face. "You can't be serious about the kitten."
"I'm always serious about kitties," he said, keeping a straight face.
SJ groaned with laughter, particularly as his hands ghosted down the insides of her thighs and left her no doubts about what kind of kitty he was concerned about. SJ struggled to frown as she pointed a no-nonsense finger at him. "You're going to ruin that forever for me."
"I wouldn't want that." Tate stripped off her socks and then reached for the waist of her jeans. "So we can talk about that later."
"Great." SJ held her breath as Tate peeled off the jeans and then knelt next to her, pulling at her sweater. "And I'd like to move in with you, Tate. That would be wonderful."
"Perfect." He focused on her breasts with a single-minded intensity that made SJ shiver, and Tate kissed his way up her stomach to the utilitarian bra she wore. He unhooked the contraption and tossed it aside, making a hungry noise, and the soft warmth of his mouth surrounded her tender flesh.
SJ gasped and worked her fingers into his hair. It felt amazing, like a bolt of pure pleasure straight to her core. The warm pressure had her arching her back and trying to hold him close as his hands tugged at her underwear, finally sliding underneath to tease her wet folds. She closed her eyes and got lost in the sensations, though a stray thought escaped before she could bite the words back. "But I thought you'd want to leave Bear Creek."
His head lifted from her breast and SJ could have cursed, though his fingers kept exploring between her thighs until she squirmed and sighed. Tate frowned. "Why would you think I'd want to leave Bear Creek?"
She clutched at his wrist, trying to guide his hand faster and higher and just a little deeper as her thighs clenched, and squeezed her eyes shut as she answered. "You always talk about missing the sun, and wanting heat and deserts, and hating the snow. I thought... I thought..."
SJ lost whatever that thought was as Tate turned to her other breast and his hand plunged deeper at the same time and she went rigid as ecstasy rolled through her. It had been so long since she'd climaxed that it took her by surprise, scary in its intensity, and as she lay there panting and trying to collect her thoughts, Tate remained beside her. He kissed the side of her neck and traced shapes on her stomach. "Well, there's an easy answer to that, my love. You're my sun. You're my sunshine and my summer and my everything. Wherever you are, I'm happy."
She lifted her head, uncertain she could shoulder such a burden. "But —"
"No buts. You make me a better man." Tate rested his chin on her shoulder, almost nose-to-nose, and smiled. "You've already made me a better man. I look forward to what you're able to do with me in a year. You're my sun, Sarah Jane. I don't need anything else. Just you."
SJ closed her eyes, not wanting to cry, and shook off the last tremors of the orgasm as she stretched and reached for his belt buckle. "And I need you. I do."
He made that grumbly noise again and stripped off his sweater, throwing it across the room before tearing off his jeans. "I love you."
"I love you too," she whispered, sliding back on the bed to make room. Tate was suddenly naked in the half-light, and started to kiss his way down her stomach, but SJ couldn't take it. She reached for his hard cock and drew him closer. "I can't wait. I want to feel you."
Tate groaned and reached for a bag on the bedside table, fishing around until he found a condom. "Normally I'd take my time, but I've been dreaming of you for the last two months and I'm about to explode. Just looking at you, your curves... You're so beautiful, Sarah Jane."
She believed him. Without a doubt or caveat. He meant it. He kissed her hard and then his weight rested on her and his cock parted her folds and SJ cried out. He filled her, stretching her, and SJ moved to meet him. She caught fire at his touch, her hands sliding down his back in a desperate search for sanity, and her hips tilted to encourage him deeper. Tate growled and groaned, murmuring how much he loved her as his body moved faster, harder, banging the headboard into the wall. SJ didn't care. She didn't care at all.
She held on to his biceps and wrapped her legs around his waist, desperate to connect to him even more. That connection she'd felt for the past two months only grew, it wrapped around her and held her to him until she didn't know where she ended and he began.
Tate said something and then tumbled over, and Sarah Jane found herself astride him. Tate lay back and watched her, squeezing her breasts as his hips lifted to urge her into motion. SJ flushed as she thought of being so exposed to him, but she rocked her hips and desire sparked through her until her head fell back and she groaned. And she remembered in his apartment that morning after they'd slept together, when she watched Tate pleasure himself just looking at her. She'd done that to him. He couldn't control himself.
SJ braced her hands on his chest, her nails biting into his skin, and rode him in long, slow strokes that drove her closer and closer to the edge. Tate cursed and begged, hips jerking against her, and his fingers bit into her hips to urge her faster. And SJ reveled in the control, taking her time until her muscles tightened and then froze, until she moved against him in short jerks as she went rigid and let the ecstasy roll through her and send her over the cliff.
SJ sagged, unable to move as she trembled and the room grew even darker around the edges. Her skin prickled. Tate stroked her sides, his voice low, "Baby, you're amazing."
SJ leaned forward until she lay on his chest, the friction of his chest hair against her sensitive breasts sending aftershocks through her, and Tate's arms wrapped around her. He didn't change positions but instead lifted his hips against her to plunge his cock deeper, gentle but persistent until she murmured and shifted as her sensitive flesh reacted. Tate thrust in short, sharp jerks, then he cried out and his arms tightened until they took her breath away. Tate sank his teeth into her shoulder and it pushed her over the edge again until she trembled and shook in his arms.
Tate panted as he held her, stroking her sides and tracing shapes in the sweat that gathered low on her back. Tate kissed the side of her neck. "Okay?"
"More than okay," SJ said, sighing.
Tate moved around until they were both wrapped in the covers and he'd gotten rid of the condom, and SJ rested her head on his chest to listen to the steady drumming of his heart. She hadn't been able to say it at dinner, but she was so very thankful for Tate. For everything about him. Even the way he'd been before, since his jackassery pushed her to set boundaries and define what she wanted in a relationship, instead of just accepting what she was offered.
SJ dozed as Tate started to snore, and she smiled. If she was his sun, then he was hers a
s well. She couldn't imagine life without him, and in the cold winters of Bear Creek, he'd certainly be all the warmth she needed.
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Layla
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