Lone Star Baby (McCabe Multiples Book 5)

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  She moaned at the onslaught of pleasure inundating them both. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and kissed him with a wildness beyond his most erotic dreams. “I’m human.”

  “Exactly.” Satisfaction roaring through him, he savored the taste and feel of her. “I am, too.” He pulled her closer still and went back to kissing her. Slowly and evocatively now. Until she went up on tiptoe and rocked against him, her hands sliding over his shoulders, down his back. Pressing lower, lower still.

  “Okay,” she said finally. Stepping back, looking slightly dazed, she sucked in an impatient breath. “Let’s have a fling.”

  He watched her tug her shirt over her head and let it flutter to the floor. She toed off her boots. Her gaze still holding his, she worked her jeans down her thighs.

  The body was no mystery for them. And hadn’t been since they’d started medical school.

  But damn, if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He caught her hand before she could undo the clasp of her bra. “Let me.”

  Her skin felt silky and warm beneath his fingers. Hot with anticipation, he undid the clasp and eased her bra down over her arms.

  Her breasts were full and round, the nipples taut and rosy. She wore cotton boy-cut panties that started just below her navel. He hooked his thumbs into either side of them and pulled them down. Past the damp curls. Over her thighs. Past her knees. He knelt to help her step out of them and then, once there, decided to stay.

  Violet gasped as he wrapped his arms around the backs of her knees and buried his face in her sweet, warm softness.

  Catching his head in her hands, she held on to him. Quavering now. “Gavin...”

  He kissed the satiny softness. He might be doing all the work but she wasn’t the only one in heaven. “Hush. I’m working here.”

  She laughed, shakily this time, and threaded her hands through his hair, giving him a glimpse of what it would be like if she really let go. “I thought we’d get into bed...”

  And rush through this? No way. He dropped butterfly kisses. Slow, deliberate. Determined to help her find release. “In due time.”

  She shuddered again but did not resist.

  Hands curling around the backs of her legs, he spread her thighs apart, gently guiding her until she was standing astride his denim-clad thighs, the insides of her ankles rubbing against the outsides of his legs.

  “Gavin...”

  “So soft.” He rubbed his thumb along the feminine seam, coaxing her to let all her inhibitions float away, to open for him even more. Let himself live in the moment. “So sweet...”

  Violet quivered, holding on voraciously.

  Heart racing, Gavin drank in the scent and heat and feel of her. Found what he’d only fantasized about up till now, until his body pulsed and she melted against him, shuddering uncontrollably, then going hot and rigid with need.

  Feeling her climax was almost his undoing.

  But that was nothing compared to the feel of her hands on his shoulders, urging him upward, or her fingers undoing his belt and reaching for his fly. “It’s definitely my time now,” she whispered.

  Gavin laughed, as Violet hoped he would.

  She wanted to keep this light and easy and sexy. The best way to do that, she knew, was to concentrate on the purely physical aspect of pleasure and the hot, hard body in front of her.

  “Nice,” she said as she helped him off with his jeans and then his shirt. His pecs were hard, his shoulders broad. Chest covered with a nice mat of hair that arrowed to his navel and beneath the boxer-briefs. Eager to explore what was beneath, she knelt and eased off his shorts. Then as long as she was down there...

  His hands clamped over her shoulders. “Not on your life.” With one smooth motion, he brought her onto the bed and then stretched out beside her. “The first time we’re together like this, I’m going to be inside you.”

  She turned, covered him with the length of her body, lowered her head and kissed him feverishly. Kissed him until everything slipped away but the feel of his big, warm body. Kissed him until those clever lips were all she wanted, all she needed.

  Suddenly she was on her back again and his lips were on her breasts, savoring, drinking her in. One hand was beneath her, lifting her, the other was between her thighs. He stroked his thumb over her flesh and she was spiraling again, gone, her cry of pleasure seemingly pushing him over the edge, too.

  With a grin of pure masculine satisfaction, he found his pants and the condom in his wallet.

  She watched, breathlessly, as he rolled it on. And then he was over her once again, nudging her knees farther apart, sliding home. She wrapped her arms around him, opening up to him, and then there was nothing but the fusing of their bodies, the slow, sensuous, ever-deepening movement. The sensation of being taken. Possessed. Found. Until there was nothing but pleasure, nothing but the chance to feel really and truly alive once again.

  * * *

  THEY RETURNED TO reality with a swiftness that astounded Gavin. “Regrets?” he asked her softly when she finally untangled her body from his.

  Her breath still coming quick and erratically, Violet sat up. “No. Oddly enough.”

  That was quite an admission from a romantic idealist like Violet, he thought. He studied the deliciously tousled state of her silky dark hair and her flushed skin, the desire to make love to her again fiercer than ever.

  Sobering slightly, Violet reached for her clothes and began to dress. “I’ve always been hardwired to think that being in love was essential to having satisfying sex.” She pivoted and looked him right in the eye. “It was a revelation to realize that’s not necessarily the case.” She grinned naughtily. “At least, not for the two of us.”

  Aware the key to this happening again was keeping the situation as casual as they both needed it to be, Gavin drawled, “Meaning you’d be willing to hook up with me again?”

  “I would. If only for the stress relief. Except...” Violet paused. “I don’t want things to get too complicated, and we already have the whole joint guardianship thing going on.”

  Which was difficult enough to manage on its own.

  Sensing it would be a mistake to push her, he nodded his agreement. “You’re right. We don’t have to decide anything tonight.” Especially if doing so would cause her to panic where the two of them were concerned.

  He finished tucking in his shirt, retrieved his wallet and slid it into the back pocket of his jeans. Reluctantly, he gave her an indulgent smile. “I’m guessing this is my cue to leave.”

  “Actually, if you’re game for it, there is something else I’d like to do.”

  Chapter Six

  Gavin stared at Violet in surprise. “You really want to put together the closet system tonight?”

  Unwilling to admit just how much she wanted to spend time with him, at least for a little while longer, Violet shrugged.

  She opened a second beer for both of them. Their fingers brushed as she handed him the icy-cold beverage. Aware most guys couldn’t wait to show off their manliness, she continued cheerfully, “With your help. If you’re game?”

  He studied the stack of boxes and components while he sipped.

  “The hardest part will be getting everything out of the boxes and the protective wrap,” Violet told him.

  Aware she hadn’t felt this happy and relaxed in a long time, she got out her toolbox and set it on the floor beside them. “I love putting stuff together. Don’t you?”

  “Ah.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, as if trying to figure out how to phrase it. “Honestly? No.”

  Surprised to realize she didn’t know as much about him as she’d previously thought, Violet found a pair of utility scissors and knelt beside a box. “How come?”

  He offered a sheepish grin. “I’m really bad at it.” />
  “Wow.” She rocked back on her heels “At last, something you can’t do and do well.”

  His gray-blue eyes sparkled with self-deprecating humor. “Which is why I usually avoid purchasing anything that requires assembly.”

  “Too frustrating?” Their shoulders brushed as they began taking wrapped pieces out of the box.

  “And time-consuming.” He lifted the heavier pieces, leaving the lighter ones for her. “Especially when you get halfway through and realize you’ve put a part on either backward or upside down and have to go back and disassemble everything.” He inclined his head in recalled frustration. “Or you do finish and you have two parts left over when you should have none and you have no clue where they were supposed to go.”

  Violet couldn’t help but laugh. “Sounds like you have had experience with this.”

  “However,” he continued, pausing to pluck a stray piece of packing material from her shirt, “as you can see, I am good at taking things out of boxes and lining them up and handing them over for anyone who does have a knack for building things.” And making love. And making you feel like life isn’t so dull and empty, after all.

  Violet winked. “Sounds like we’ll make a good team, then.”

  And as it happened, they did.

  Two hours later they had everything but a drawer system on wheels put together. “Eight down, one to go,” Gavin announced.

  “Except...” Violet said with a yawn as the last of her adrenaline faded and accumulated fatigue suddenly hit her with a sledgehammer force. “I really am too tired.” She moved closer to him, studying the new shadows beneath his eyes. “And so are you.”

  “I can keep going.”

  Uh-uh. Taking his hand, she led him away from the last box. “At least take five.”

  He sat on the sofa, as directed, pulling her down beside him in the process.

  She landed right next to him. Ignoring the heat radiating from his powerful body, as much as the residual desire flowing through her, she asked, “How many shifts have you been working lately?”

  Too many, the weary set of his shoulders said. “I pulled six midnight-to-noon shifts in a row last week. One of the other ER doc’s kids had strep throat and she wanted to be there. So I took her shifts.”

  “Ah. No wonder. You should be home in bed.”

  He flashed her the kind of look that said what he really wanted was to make love with her again. “I’ll get there, eventually,” he promised, pulling his phone out of his shirt pocket. He checked the screen, frowned in obvious concern.

  “Everything okay there?”

  Gavin exhaled roughly. “I left several messages for Nicholas and still haven’t heard back from him.”

  “Do you think he got back to college okay?”

  Gavin thumbed through his messages until he found what he was looking for. “Bridgette says he texted her at noon to say he made the trip okay but decided not to return the rental for another day or so.”

  “I’m guessing his vehicle is in the shop?”

  “Insurance is going to cover the repairs, but it will take at least a month.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Yeah. My little brother wasn’t very happy about that.” Gavin looked at his phone. “He still should have called.”

  “He’s a teenager,” Violet soothed. “Maybe he’s out with friends, recounting his near-death experience. Talking about it will help him get over it.”

  “I hope so.” With a scowl of brotherly frustration, Gavin put the phone away. He looked at the lone box remaining, then back at Violet. “Mind making me a cup of coffee?”

  “No problem.” Any activity was better than sitting on the sofa next to him, thinking about throwing caution to the wind and making love with him again. Aware she could really get used to having Gavin around, Violet walked over to her single-cup brewer and looked at the premeasured pods. “Light, strong or medium roast?”

  Gavin slouched until his head rested against the back of the sofa and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “The closest thing to jet fuel you’ve got.”

  She chuckled. “Been there.”

  Rummaging around, she found a dark chocolate candy bar with fruit and nuts to go with it. When she turned around, cup in hand, she stopped at what she saw.

  His eyes were shut, his arms spread wide on either side of him. And it was clear from the deep, even breathing that he had fallen fast asleep.

  She set the coffee and chocolate bar on the end table and sat next to him, her knee brushing his muscular thigh.

  “Hey.” She shook his shoulder once, twice. He barely budged. That settled it. No way was he getting behind the wheel.

  “Gavin,” she said softly, “come to bed.” She shook him harder and he blinked, disoriented.

  “I said, come to bed. You can sleep here tonight. With me.”

  * * *

  GAVIN WOULD HAVE thought he was dreaming, except dreams didn’t carry with them the heavenly scent of Violet’s hair and skin or the soft warmth of her hands rubbing his shoulder.

  He tried to formulate a response, but he was so damn tired the words would not come. So when she took him by the hand and led him up the stairs into her wagon, he went unresistingly.

  Nor did he resist when she sat him on the edge of the bed, knelt to help him off with his boots and then guided him back, so he could stretch out on the mattress.

  He struggled to stay awake. But the moment his head hit the pillow, darkness descended.

  The next thing he knew it was dawn. Still in her clothes, too, Violet was cuddled up against him, her head on his chest, her breathing soft and even.

  As he wrapped his arms around her, his heart filled with a rush of unfamiliar emotion. Contentment. Peace. And a yearning so strong it scared him.

  He’d gotten through the years since the tragedy that had upended his family’s entire existence by not ever expecting too much out of life. He’d entered—and ended—his engagement to Penelope much the same way.

  Violet made him want more.

  But needing anyone—or anything—like that could be dangerous.

  He’d gotten used to living day by day. Appreciating each moment as it came. Never thinking much further ahead. Upending all that could risk his hard-won serenity. With a reluctant sigh, he closed his eyes.

  Patience was not—had never been—his strong suit. But if he wanted to make love to Violet again, he would have to tread very carefully.

  Otherwise they both might end up regretting it.

  * * *

  VIOLET WOKE SHORTLY after seven in the morning. The canopy over the top of the wagon-bedroom made it difficult to see the sun streaming in through the tall windows of the stable. But she could hear the sounds of the caravan of pickups coming up the gravel lane.

  Lamenting her tardiness—she had intended to be up and out of bed well before this—she eased from the cradle of Gavin’s arms and slipped soundlessly from the bed.

  Tiptoeing down the stairs, she crossed the cement floor and went into the bathroom. Five minutes later order was restored to her hair. With her face washed and makeup on, a nice, minty-clean taste in her mouth, she felt a whole lot better. Although she still looked as if she had slept in her clothes.

  And that was, of course, when she heard the sharp rapping on the stable-house door.

  The last thing she wanted was anyone seeing Gavin in her bed! Quickly, she eased from the bathroom, stepped into her cowgirl boots on the way to the door and swung it open, expecting the construction boss to be on the other side.

  Instead, it was her triplet sister Rose, a basket of goodies from her local produce business looped over her arm. Her three preschool triplet children stood beside her. Stephen had a basket of muffins. Sophia was carefully cradling a carton of farm-fresh eggs. Scarle
t had a bag of freshly roasted coffee beans. “Surprise!” they said in unison. “We came to check on you!”

  Looking as happy as could be, which was always the case since she had fallen in love with Clint McCulloch, Rose grinned. “We don’t have a lot of time. I have to get the kids to school. But we wanted to drop by to see how you were doing. Good, from the looks of it. Although,” she teased with sisterly affection, “if that’s the state of all your clothes, you could use an iron.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  Behind Rose, the construction boss waved at Violet. She waved back.

  One by one, the kids handed Violet their gifts. “Where do you want the rest of this?” her sister asked, hefting the wicker basket full of local jams, cheeses and plethora of fresh fruit and vegetables. “If you want, I can bring over a baker’s rack, too.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Violet said, wondering how she was going to keep Rose from realizing she had company. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the triplets run past her. To her dismay, they were headed straight for the Conestoga wagon.

  “I’m going to see the bed!”

  “Me first!”

  “No, me!”

  Violet lifted a hand to stop them.

  Rose jumped in. “Kids! That’s not a toy, that’s Aunt Violet’s bedroom!”

  Too late, the little ones had disappeared beneath the flap that served as a bedroom door. A squeal in three-part harmony sounded. All commotion abruptly stopped.

  Violet briefly put a hand over her eyes.

  “What’s going on?” Rose demanded, seeming to realize that her triplet knew exactly what was going on.

  “You’re about to find out,” Violet answered softly.

  Sure enough, the flap opened up. “Mommy!” All three heads popped out. “Aunt Violet’s got a prince sleeping in her bed!”

  * * *

  IT WASN’T THE first time he had been called a prince, Gavin thought as he struggled to blink himself awake. However, it was the first time he had been designated one in quite that way.

  He passed a hand over his face, pushed up on his elbows and looked straight into the curious faces of three rambunctious four-year-olds. Rose McCulloch’s triplets.