Love in Deed: A Silver Fox Small Town Romance (Green Valley Library Book 6)

by Smartypants Romance

  “Nothing,” Jedd mutters. “So you’ve never seen the boy who’s definitely grown into a man by now. Never met him. Never spoken to him. But you were neighbors all this time.”

  Jedd’s accusatory tone returns as if I should have made this forbidden neighbor my concern.

  “I had my own issues, Jedd. Raising a daughter single-handedly and working a farm too big for the two of us. Whoever he was, he didn’t step over and offer me a hand any more than I reached out to him. Hell, I don’t even know if he still lives there.”

  When I first worked the fields, I only went as far as the fence line, leaving the final half acre to the other home. They’d had horses over there at one time, but I learned the animals were sold to pay off debts. The barn was left to rot, similar to my own, and the house fell into disrepair.

  The stories surrounding Ewell, his thwarted love affair, and then his sister running off hinted at something like Wuthering Heights, only there isn’t any romantic moor separating the two houses. When I learned the details of the gambling trade of deeds for debts and the exchange of land but not the house, I was reminded of historical romance novels with swarming rogues and bodice rippers. None of it seemed real; but I lived in a small mountain community, and anything was possible.

  Jedd flips his ball cap back to his head, turning it backward as it settles over his short hair. He glances back at the container he set on the table. “You’re feeding more than a stray. Do you think it’s him?”

  He states the obvious with a touch of hopeful in his tone, but I still can’t find words to explain myself.

  “I don’t know.”

  Jedd’s brows rise. “You don’t know him?”

  I shake my head. “We haven’t spoken.”

  Jedd’s forehead furrows deeper. “What if this person is dangerous? You live alone here with Hannah.”

  I want to remind him I’ve lived here for years without this stranger, and I’ve taken care of Hannah without help. I could throw in that he lives here now and remind him he’s stranger as well, but I don’t mention it.

  “He’d never hurt me,” I defend, standing taller, feeling confident in my answer. Whoever he is, he’s never come near me other than to offer me assistance, which reminds me of what happened after Jedd tossed me in a tub of water.

  “How do you know this? You said he hasn’t spoken to you.”

  Again, I shrug. Jedd doesn’t need to know I was talking to myself last night or that the mystery man heard me. I look down at the drawing, fighting the smile wanting to cross my lips. He was listening. I swipe my thumb over the penciled image once again.

  “He doesn’t speak,” I say, as if I know this about him, but for all I know, he simply refuses to speak to me. “He leaves me these drawings as his gratitude.”

  “Is he the one leaving you flowers? He’s probably got a crush on you for feeding him and showing his admiration with pretty pictures.” Jedd waves out his hand in exasperation and swipes his ball cap from his head.

  I’m on the defense again. “And would it be so wrong for someone to be interested in me? Take his time with me? Show me appreciation? Give me gifts?” I don’t even know what I’m arguing as I’m not interested in a homeless man wandering on my land. It’s the principle of Jedd’s accusation that’s upsetting me.

  Without a response to my question, he reaches around his back and tugs something from his back pocket. I want to ask if the floral arrangement is from him, but I know the answer, and the expression on Jedd’s face tells me he knows as well.

  It’s from him.

  He holds in his hand the tip of a pine bough and a sprig of boxwood tied together with red twine. Reaching out for the small bouquet, I lift the fragrant conifer branch to my nose and inhale. Pulling back the collection, I smile again as another idea comes to fruition. I glance at the pencil drawing on cardboard in my other hand.

  “Bee, what’s going on here?”

  “I don’t know,” I honestly answer, no longer able to fight the grin on my lips as my eyes meet Jedd’s. “He leaves me these little gifts as a thank you for his dinner. That’s all it is.”

  Jedd closes the distance between us so quickly I almost shrink back from his haste. His hand cups the back of my neck as his claw comes to my waist, looping into my jeans and tugging me to him.

  “Honey, you need to be careful. He could be dangerous.” His eyes scan my face, but I reassure myself the stranger won’t come near me. Last night was the perfect example. He keeps his distance. I lift the heady pine-scented branch for my nose and then tip it up to Jedd.

  “It’s pretty, isn’t it? Holiday-ish.”

  Jedd cocks a brow at me. “You aren’t listening to me, are you? Or are you just ignoring what I’ve said?”

  “Ignoring you,” I honestly answer.

  “Beverly,” he groans, lowering his forehead for mine. “I don’t want anything to hurt you.”

  “Nothing will,” I tell him, but instantly other thoughts whisper through my head. You might.

  Standing this close to me, acting all protective, is sending me mixed signals of Jedd’s feelings. I’ve tossed and turned over the other night. Sure, he said he wants to make love to me, but that’s only because of the strong attraction—the inexplicable pull—we feel between one another, but it doesn’t mean he wants to love me. He’s politely labeling baser actions that I won’t refute I want as well. But it’s more than just a sexual attraction I feel for this man—so much more—when I shouldn’t feel anything at all.

  “You said you had a surprise for me,” I mention by way of distraction.

  “You aren’t going to tell me more about this mystery person, are you?” he asks, pulling his head back from mine.

  “There’s nothing else to tell.” It’s true. I know nothing more about my savior other than he’s suddenly become my inspiration. I spoke to the dark, and my words were answered. He’s drawn me a second symbol to use on my soap. I just need to find a way to copy the design.

  My fingers brush over the spindly branch, releasing the piney scent into the room. Bayberry. It smells like Jedd, and it’s the perfect holiday scent for soap. My fingers also note the red twine tied in a haphazard bow. The simplicity of the brown cardboard, the pencil drawing, and a thin strip of colorful twine are all the packaging I need. I decide on the spot I’m going to take Jedd’s suggestion and sell some soap at the winter market and dismiss the rest of this conversation as Jedd overreacting.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  [Beverly]

  Jedd’s surprise is another horse, bringing the grand total to three.

  “Her name’s Hickory.” Jedd pets her nose while patting the side of her long neck. We’re silent a long minute before Jedd addresses me while staring at the blond beauty. “I think you owe me an explanation.”

  “Excuse me?” I snap.

  “I’ve given you space, Bee, but I’m losing my mind over you.”

  My breath hitches. “What do you mean?”

  “I want to be near you. I want to touch you, but I don’t know what I did. I don’t know why we stopped.”

  I squint at Hickory’s neck where Jedd’s hand strokes the horse. “I got in my head a little. What you said. Maybe the room.” My eyes lower for the dirt floor under my feet. In my periphery, Jedd’s hand comes to my nape, and it forces me to look up.

  “Let’s be clear. I want you, anyway I can take you. If it’s bits and pieces, I can wait.”

  “You said you could only be patient for so long.”

  Jedd huffs with a strained chuckle. “Yeah, well, you were witnessing a man at the end of his rope,” he teases. “I’d been wound tight coming here, and you weren’t what I expected would unravel me.”

  “And what did you expect?” I tug back, but Jedd’s grip on my neck holds me in place. Does he mean he thought he’d encounter someone young and fit? Someone loose and bubbly? Someone like one of his buckle bunnies?

  “I didn’t expect you.”

  I tug back again, adding my h
ands to the mix and pressing at his shoulders. We’ve shifted from him petting the horse to my back against the stall. He’s caging me in as he does—a trapped animal looking for an escape.

  “No running,” he warns as if he reads my thoughts. “I didn’t expect how I’d feel about you. How badly I’d want you. That sassy mouth. Those steel eyes. That damn fucking shoulder.” Without further words, he grips my coat, tugging it to the side, taking my loose sweater with it, and sucks at my skin. My knees buckle, and he wraps his arm around me. He nips and licks, working his way to just under my ear.

  “A man changes all his plans for a woman like you.”

  My mouth gapes, but he doesn’t give me time to respond before his lips crash into mine. Rough and ready, he commands me to open to him. This isn’t the tender, sweet touch of the man on my couch but a man on fire with need and desire. And I feel the same. I don’t want to be wishy-washy or come across inconsistent because there’s something he’s doing to me. I pull back.

  “Don’t call me baby.” I gasp before his mouth returns to mine.

  “Okay…what else?” He doesn’t let me respond, coming in for more lips.

  “Don’t ask me to ride you?” He pulls back, searching my eyes.

  “What the fuck?”

  “And that too. When you said fuck, baby, I just…” Shut down.

  “Fucking Howard, that’s what I should say,” Jedd hisses.

  “Yeah, and for good measure, maybe he shouldn’t be mentioned either.”

  Jedd chuckles, wrapping his arm around my neck and tugging me back to him. “The only name I want to hear cross those lips is Jedd.”

  Jedd. Jedd. Jedd.

  “I might be persuaded to do that.”

  “You don’t seem like the type to be swayed, Bee.” He teases me, but he runs his nose up my neck and nips my earlobe.

  “And that’s one more thing. My name.”

  “Bev. Er. Lee,” he groans, and I shiver at his teasing tone, but then I still, and he draws back.

  “I’ve never been a fan of nicknames. Never thought I’d want endearments, but there is something about you calling me Bee and honey, and not calling me Beverly when we’re…you know.”

  His expression softens, and his cheeks pink with the cool air of the stable. “You know?” He tips up an eyebrow and then chuckles. “That’s a mighty long list. Anything left I can do?” He’s still teasing me.

  “That list is short.” My brow tips back at him. “Unless that’s all you got.” The innuendo is present and clear, and Jedd’s eyes narrow on me.

  “You should know by now how long I am, but maybe you need a persuasive reminder.”

  “I…” His mouth covers mine, and the next thing I know, we’re moving. My back hits another stall, and then the door behind me slides. I’m pressed inside, and the door closes. Jedd’s mouth comes back to mine, and we lower.

  “A roll in the hay,” I mock as we collapse rather uncoordinatedly to a pile of straw. He tugs at my coat, slipping it off and sliding it under me, lower than necessary. My butt rests on the padded material. A piece of hay pokes through my sweater, but I’m distracted quickly by Jedd’s mouth on mine again and another long minute of corner mouth kisses and sucking my lower lip.

  “The only thing rolling is going to be my tongue.” With that, he pulls back, shrugs off his jacket and slips it over his head. He looks ridiculous until I understand. My jeans come undone, and he shrugs them to my knees. My backside hits the fabric inside my open coat underneath me.

  “Bend,” he commands, and I do as I’m told while at the same time, I can’t believe what he’s about to do. With his jacket draped over his head to keep me covered and warm, the heat of his mouth hits my core, and I buck up.

  Sweet butter on biscuits.

  “Dripping honey,” he moans, holding his forearms over my thighs to keep me in place as his tongue returns to my center, lapping and licking, and I see I was wrong. The list might be short of things Jedd can’t say or do, but it’s long on the things he can. I squirm, and I moan as he sucks and savors, drawing over me like a favorite treat. Quickly, I relax, giving in to a pleasure I never had in this position. Jedd takes his time until I’m calling out his name like he promised I’d do.

  “Jedd. Jedd. Jedd.” The final cry is a sweet purr in response to the mystery and magic of that wicked tongue. Jedd drags out each lap until I can’t take any more. My quivering thighs cease. Dripping honey, indeed. I’m liquid on this pile of scratchy straw.

  When Jedd pulls back, he’s pleased as punch with himself. He sits back on his haunches, and I sit up, right my pants and then tug him back down to me, kissing him in gratitude.

  “You like that, honey?” He chuckles against my lips. I freaking loved it, but I don’t tell him. His smug satisfaction spurs me on. I press at his shoulders, flipping him to his back. I slip over him, kissing him like we were on my couch. Maybe that’s the trigger. Maybe it’s the house. Maybe I can be free as long as it’s not inside. My kisses aren’t as practiced as his. I’m eager and anxious, but I know what I want to do.

  I lower on Jedd’s body.

  “Bee, honey.” His hand comes to the nape of my neck, but I won’t be deterred. My fingers fumble and shake as I undo this belt. His head lifts, and his claw-hand stops my struggle. “We don’t need to rush. You don’t need to do this.”

  My eyes meet his. “I need this.” For some reason, I want to prove I can do this. I want to give something to him. My expression must tell him what I can’t say because he reaches for his jacket, pushed aside after what he did. He drags it under his backside. “Don’t need straw where it ain’t intended to be.”

  Dear God. I laugh, the tension easing out of me as I finish unbuckling his heavy belt and then unzip his zipper. I inspect him. I don’t mean it to be an assessment, but more inquisitive. I’ve only ever seen one man’s…and Jedd is notably different. Long and thick in my fist. My mouth waters, and I lick my lips.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Jedd moans, and I look up to see him watching my face. “When you lick your lips…” His head falls back, and I giggle before lowering. Taking him in, I swallow, and Jedd flinches. His hand comes to my head as he swears with a word I warned him against, and then he quickly apologizes before begging me, “Don’t stop. Please. Bee. Please.”

  I like that he’s struggling, straining for control like I was under him. My tongue curls up his shaft until I suck the tip. When I lower again, he hisses my name. His nickname for me draws out like the buzzing sound the insect makes, and I’d laugh if I wasn’t concentrating. I want him to come. I want to feel the jolt and surprise, and the empowerment of making him unravel.

  It doesn’t take long before he does what I desire, and I pull back, pleased with myself.

  “You’ve got a satisfied look on your face,” he mocks, his voice rumpled sheets and morning-after sounding, and I smile at the sound of satisfaction in his voice. He tugs at his T-shirt to wipe himself off, and then pulls up his jeans but doesn’t close them. Instead, he reaches out an arm for me, and I tuck into his side. He grabs my coat and throws it over both of us. Pressing a kiss to my forehead, he moans.

  “This is all I ever wanted.”

  “What?” I chuckle, looking up at him.

  “Land. Horses. A beautiful woman.”

  I smile, nestling back into his chest. It’s a pleasant thought.

  “Bee, I can’t go without you again.” He shifts so he can see me better. “No more running. I want you in bed. My bed. Your bed. Nothing needs to happen, but I need to hold you each night. I need to wake with you in my arms. It’s killing me that you’re downstairs, and I’m up. We need to rectify that.”

  “Sleeping together?” My voice croaks.

  “If sleeping is all I get, I want it. No more separation.”

  “What about Hannah?”

  “She’s a big girl, darlin’. She can handle it.”

  I hope Jedd is right, but can I handle it? Snuggling back into his chest, I close my eyes a s
econd and decide I can. This is all I ever wanted as well.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  [Beverly]

  It’s been a few weeks, and Jedd’s been in my bed every night. We haven’t had sex, but we’ve done so much else. Mouths. Tongues. Fingers. Explore…and I’ve never felt so worshipped, so treasured. He holds to his promises, which include not taking me on the couch and not using certain words. The longer I’m with Jedd, though, the more I see it’s silly to put these parameters on him. He can be dirty with me in all kinds of ways, and my rocking chair has become a sacred piece of furniture.

  Eventually, the winter market arrives, sporting seasonal roots and vegetables, holiday bakery items, and crafts. While I’m used to selling my tomatoes through the summer, I hibernate in the winter, hardly going to town. The community center is packed on this day, and I feel out of my element with my new hairstyle, fresh clothing, and different wares to sell.

  “Mrs. Townsen,” Ashley Winston-Runous greets me, hardly batting an eye at the changes in me. I have continued to work at improving my strength, and it’s nice that someone isn’t staring at me as I limp along the table, stronger than I’ve been in the past. My daughter went to school with Roscoe Winston, Ashley’s younger brother, and Bethany, her mother, was a dear friend from the community. Ashley reaches for the green-tinted soap Naomi helped me make and lifts it to her nose. As she inhales, her eyes widen at the scent, and she smiles. “Bayberry.” She lowers the soap and inspects the packaging, reading the inscription aloud.

  “Bee joyful.” She looks back at me, and her smile grows. “That’s rather inspiring for the season.”

  My lip crooks, and my anxiety dissipates a little. Along with the letter B interwoven in the buzzing bee for a logo, Naomi encouraged me to include a play on the concept of the pollinator with each of the various fragrances.

  Bee Joyful for bayberry pine.

  Bee Courageous for citrus and floral.