Even before the last delicious tremors had faded, he produced a condom from his wallet and entered her with one swift movement.
Long unused muscles stretched to welcome him and he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers.
"So tight," he murmured.
"I'm sorry."
His laugh was rough and tickled her skin. "I don't believe I was complaining."
He kissed her fiercely, possessively, and just like that, she could feel her body rise to meet his again.
With her hands gripped tightly in his, he moved inside her and she arched restlessly against him, her body seeking more, burning for completion. And then she could sense a change in him, feel the taut edginess in every touch. Her mouth tangled with his and at the slick brush of his tongue against hers, she climaxed again, with a core-deep sigh of delight.
He froze above her, his muscles corded, and then he groaned and joined her in the storm.
* * *
He came back to earth with a powerful sense of the surreal. None of this seemed to be truly happening. Not the hard floor beneath his shoulders or the soft, warm curves in his arms or this unaccustomed contentment stealing through him.
It was definitely genuine, though. He could feel her pulse against his arm where her head lay nestled and smell that delectable scent of her.
"How could I have forgotten?" she murmured.
He angled his head to better see her expression. "Forgotten what?"
She smiled and he was struck again by her breathtaking beauty. She was like some rare, exquisite flower that bloomed in secret just for him.
"This radiant feeling. Total contentment. As if for a few short moments, everything is perfect in the world."
He smiled, enchanted by her. "You don't think everything would be a tad more perfect if we happened to be in a soft bed somewhere instead of on the bare floor of your ripped-apart spare room? I think I've got paint chips in places I'm not sure I should mention."
She made a face, though he saw laughter dancing in her eyes. "Go ahead. Ruin the moment for me."
"Sorry. It's just been a long time since I've been so…carried away."
"I know exactly what you mean."
He studied her. "How long?"
Her lovely green-eyed gaze met his, then flickered away. "Since the night before Scott's accident. So that would be eight years, if anyone's counting."
"In all that time, not once?"
As soon as his shocked words escaped, he realized they weren't very tactful, but she didn't seem offended.
"I loved my husband," she said solemnly. "Even if he wasn't quite the man I expected to spend the rest of my life with when I married him, I loved him and I honored my wedding vows."
He pulled her closer, stunned at her loyalty and devotion. She had put her life, her future, completely on hold for years to care for a man who could never be the sort of husband a young woman needed.
Most women he knew would have felt perfectly justified in resuming their own lives after such a tragic accident. They might have mourned their husband for a while but would have been quick to put the past behind them.
He thought of his own mother, selfish and feckless, who wasn't happy unless she was the center of attention. She wouldn't have had the first idea how to cope after such a tragedy.
Not Tess. She had stayed, had sacrificed her youth for her husband.
"Scott was an incredibly fortunate man to have you."
Her eyes softened. "Thank you, Quinn." She kissed him gently, her mouth warm and soft, and he was astonished at the fragile tenderness that fluttered through him like dry leaves on the autumn wind.
"Can I stay?" he asked. "It's…harder than I expected to hang out at the ranch right now."
She smiled against his mouth and her kiss left no question in his mind about what her answer would be.
"Of course. I would love you to stay. And I even have a bed in the other room, believe it or not."
He rose and pulled her to her feet, stunned all over again at the peace welling inside him. He didn't think he had come here for this on a conscious level, but perhaps some part of him knew she would welcome him, would soothe the ache in his heart with that easy nurturing that was such a part of her.
"Show me," he murmured.
Her smile was brilliant and took his breath away as she took him by the hand and led him from the room.
* * *
She was having a torrid affair.
Two days later, Tess could hardly believe it, even when the evidence was sprawled beside her, wide shoulders propped against her headboard, looking rugged and masculine against the dainty yellow frills and flowers of her bedroom.
The fluffy comforter on her bed covered him to the waist and she found the contrast between the feminine fabric and the hard planes and hollows of his muscled chest infinitely arousing.
She sighed softly, wondering if she would ever get tired of looking at him, touching him, laughing with him.
For two days, they hadn't left her house, except for sneaking in one quick trip to Winder Ranch in the middle of the night for him to grab some extra clothes and toiletries.
What would the rest of the town think if news spread that the sainted Tess Claybourne was engaged in a wild, torrid relationship with Quinn Southerland, the former bad boy of Pine Gulch?
Enthusiastically engaged, no less. She flushed at the memory of her response to him, of the heat and magic and connection they had shared the past few days. The sensual, passionate woman she had become in his arms seemed like a stranger, as if she had stored up all these feelings and desires inside her through the past eight years.
She didn't know whether to be embarrassed or thrilled that she had discovered this part of herself with him.
"You're blushing," he said now with an interested look. "What are you thinking about?"
"You. This. I was thinking about how I had no idea I could…that we could…"
Her voice trailed off as she struggled with words to finish the sentence. Her own discomfort astounded her. How could she possibly possess even a hint of awkwardness after everything they had done together within these walls, all the secrets they had shared?
He didn't seem to need any explanation.
"You absolutely can. And we absolutely have."
He grinned, looking male and gorgeous and so completely content with the world that she couldn't help laughing.
This was the other thing that shocked her, that she could have such fun with him. He wasn't at all the intense, brooding rebel she had thought when they were younger. Quinn had a sly sense of humor and a keen sense of the ridiculous.
They laughed about everything from a silly horror movie they watched on TV in the middle of the night to the paint flecks in her hair after they made one halfhearted attempt to continue working on the trim in the guest room to a phone call from Easton the day before, wondering if Tess had kidnapped him.
And they had talked, endlessly. About his memories of the other Four Winds, about growing up on the ranch, about her friends and family and the miracle of how she had been led to become a nurse long before Scott's accident when those skills would become so vital.
They had also talked a great deal about his foster mother and also about Guff. He seemed to find great comfort in sharing memories with her. That he would trust her with those memories touched and warmed her, more than she could ever express. She hoped his sorrow eased a little as he brought those events and people to life for her.
"I wish it didn't have to end," she murmured now, then wished she could recall the words.
No regrets, she had promised herself that first night. She intended only to seize every ounce of happiness she could with him and then let him go with a glad heart that she had this chance to share a few wonderful days with him.
He traced a hand along her bare arm. "I wish I could put off my return to Seattle. But I've been away too long as it is. My plane's coming tomorrow."
"I know."
Her smile fe
lt tight, forced, as she fought to hide the sadness hovering just out of reach at his impending departure.
How had he become so very important to her in just a few short weeks? Even the idea of moving to Portland, starting over with new friends and different employment challenges, had lost much of its luster.
Ridiculous, she told herself. She couldn't let herself fall into a funk over the inevitable end of a passionate, albeit brief, affair, even one with the man who had fascinated her for two decades.
"We should do something," he said suddenly.
She took in the rumpled bedclothes and the hard muscles of his bare chest. "I thought we had been doing something."
His sensual smile just about took her breath away. "I meant go to dinner or something. It's not fair for me to keep you chained up in the bedroom for two days without even offering to feed you."
"We haven't tried the chained-up thing."
"Yet."
Her insides shivered at the single word in that low growl of a voice.
"We could go to The Gulch," he suggested, apparently unaffected by the same sudden vivid fantasies that flashed across her mind.
She pushed them away, wondering what the regulars or Lou and Donna Archeleta would think if she showed up in the café with Quinn looking rumpled and well-loved. What did she care? She thought. She deserved some happiness and fun in her life and if she found that with Quinn, it was nobody's damn business but theirs.
"What about the others?" she asked. "Easton and Brant and Cisco? Don't you think you ought to spend your last night in town with them?"
He made a face, though she thought he looked struck by the reminder of his friends and the shared loss that had brought them all together.
"I should," he finally admitted. "I stayed an extra few days after the funeral to spend time with them but I ended up a little…distracted."
She pulled away from him and slipped her arms through her robe. "I should never have monopolized all your time."
"It was a mutual monopoly. I wanted to be here."
"If you want to spend your last evening at the ranch with them, please don't feel you can't because of me. Because of this."
"Why do I have to choose? We should all go to dinner together."
She frowned. "I'm not one of you, Quinn."
"After the past two weeks, you feel as much a part of the family as any of us."
She wanted to argue that the others would probably want him to themselves and she couldn't blame them. But she had discovered she had a selfish streak hiding inside her. She couldn't give up the chance to spend at least a few more hours with him.
Chapter Thirteen
In her heart, Tess knew she didn't belong here with the others but she couldn't remember an evening she had enjoyed more.
Several hours later, she sat at the table in the Winder Ranch dining room and sipped at her wine, listening to the flow of conversation eddy around her.
When they weren't teasing Easton about something, they were reminiscing about some camping trip Guff took them on into Yellowstone or the moose that chased them once along the shores of Hayden Lake or snowmobiling into the high country.
In every word and gesture, it was obvious they loved each other deeply, despite a few rough moments in the conversation.
Most notably, something was definitely up between Easton and Cisco, Tess thought. Though outwardly Easton treated him just as she did Brant and Quinn, with a sisterly sort of affection, Tess could sense braided ropes of tension tugging between the two of them.
They sat on opposite sides of the table and Easton was careful to avoid looking at him for very long.
What was it? she wondered. Had they fought about something? She had a feeling this wasn't something recent in origin as she remembered Easton's strange reaction whenever Cisco's name had been mentioned, before he made it back to the ranch. Obviously, her feelings were different for him than for Brant and Quinn and Tess wondered if anybody else but her was aware of it.
They all seemed so different to her and yet it was obvious they were a unit. Easton, who loved the ranch and was the only one of the Four Winds not to wander away from it. Brant, the solemn, honorable soldier who seemed to be struggling with internal demons she couldn't begin to guess at. Cisco, who by his demeanor appeared to be a thrill-seeking adventurer type, though she sensed there was much more to him than he revealed.
And then there was Quinn.
Around the others, these three people who were his closest friends and the only family he had left, he was warm and affectionate as they laughed and talked and shared memories and she was enthralled by him all over again.
She was the odd person out but Quinn had insisted she join them, even after Easton suggested they grill steaks at the ranch instead of going out to dinner.
The ranch house seemed empty without Jo. She wondered how Easton endured it—and how her friend would cope when she was alone here at the ranch after the men went their respective ways once more.
"Do you remember that snow prank?" Cisco said with a laugh. "That was classic, man. A masterpiece."
"I still can't believe you guys drove all the way into Idaho Falls just to rent a fake snow machine," Easton said, still not looking at Cisco.
"Hey, I tried to talk them out of it," Brant defended himself.
Quinn gave a rough laugh. "But you still drove the getaway car after we broke into the gymnasium and sprayed the Sweetheart Dance decorations with six inches of fake snow."
Tess set down her fork and narrowed her gaze at the men. "Wait a minute. That was you?"
"Uh-oh. You are so busted." Easton grinned at Quinn.
"I worked on that dance planning committee for weeks! I can't believe you would be so blatantly destructive."
"We were just trying to help out with the theme," Quinn said. "Wasn't it something about snuggling in with your sweetheart for Valentine's Day? What better time to snuggle than in the middle of a blizzard and six inches of snow?"
She gave him a mock glare. "Nice try."
"It was a long time ago. I say we all forgive and forget," Brant said, winking at Tess.
"Do you have any idea how long it takes to clean up six inches of snow from a high-school gymnasium?"
"Hey, blame it all on Quinn. I was an innocent sophomore he dragged along for the ride," Cisco said with a grin.
"You were never innocent," Easton muttered.
He sent her a quick look out of hooded dark eyes. "True enough."
Tess could feel the tension sizzle between them, though the other two men seemed oblivious to it. She wondered if any of them saw the anguished expression in Easton's eyes as she watched Cisco.
The other woman suddenly shoved her chair away from the table. "Anybody up for dessert?" she asked, a falsely bright note to her voice. "Jenna McRaven owed me a favor so I talked her into making some of her famous turtle cheesecake."
"That would be great," Brant said. "Thank you."
"Quinn? Cisco?"
Both men readily agreed and Easton headed for the kitchen.
"I'll help," Tess offered, sliding her chair away from the table. "But don't think I've forgotten the snow prank. As to forgiving, I don't believe there's a statute of limitations on prosecution for breaking the spirit of the high-school dance committee."
All three of the men laughed as she left the room, apparently unfazed by her empty threat.
In the kitchen, she found Easton reaching into the refrigerator. She emerged holding a delectable-looking dessert drizzled in chocolate and caramel and chopped nuts.
"All right, out with it," Easton said as she set the cheesecake on the counter, and Tess realized this was the first chance they'd had all evening to speak privately.
"With what?" Tess asked in as innocent a voice as she could muster, though she had a feeling she sounded no more innocent than Cisco had.
"You and Quinn. He's been gone from the ranch for two entire days! What's going on with you two?"
She turned pink, remem
bering the passion and fun of the past two days.
"Nothing. Not really. We're just…He's just…"
"You're right. It's none of my business," Easton said as she sliced the cheesecake and began transferring it to serving plates. "Sorry I asked."
"It's not that, I just…I can't really explain it."
Easton was silent for a long moment. "Are you sure you know what you're dealing with when it comes to Quinn?" she finally asked with a searching look. "I wouldn't be a friend if I didn't ask."
"He's leaving tomorrow. I completely understand that."
"Do you?"
Tess nodded, even as her heart gave a sad little twist. "Of course. These past few days have been…magical, but I know it's only temporary. His life is in Seattle. Mine is here, at least for the next few weeks until I move to Portland."
"Seattle and Portland aren't so far apart that you couldn't connect if you wanted to," Easton pointed out.
She wouldn't think about that, especially after she had worked so hard to convince herself their relationship was only temporary, born out of shared grief and stunning, surprising hunger.
"I care about you," Easton said when Tess didn't answer. "We owe you so much for these past weeks with Aunt Jo. You carried all of us through it. I mean that, Tess. You always knew exactly what to say and what to do, no matter what was happening, and I'll be forever grateful to you for all you did for her. That's why I'll be absolutely furious if Quinn takes advantage of your natural compassion and ends up hurting you."
"He won't. I promise."
Easton didn't look convinced. Not surprising, she supposed, since Tess couldn't even manage to convince herself.
"It's just…he doesn't have a great track record when it comes to women," her friend said quietly.
Tess tried hard to make her sudden fierce interest in that particular subject seem casual. "Really?"
"I love him like a brother and have since he came to the ranch. But I'm not blind to his faults, especially when it comes to women. I don't think Quinn has ever had a relationship that has lasted longer than a few weeks. To be honest, I'm not sure he's capable of it."
"Never?"
"I can't be certain, I suppose. He's been away for a long time. But every time I ask about his social life when we talk on the phone or e-mail, he mentions he's dating someone new."
A Cold Creek Homecoming Page 13