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

by Smartypants Romance

  “Put your hand on him, Bee. He’ll respond to you.”

  I do as Jedd asks, noticing the horse quiver. The night is cold, and I can’t decide if he’s reacting to the temperature or anxious of me.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper as I flatten my palm and stroke over his side, feeling his heart race under his soft coat. A blanket is over him and a bridle over his head. Before I know it, Jedd’s behind me, hands at my waist.

  “Don’t scream,” he warns as he lifts me like I’m nothing, and I voluntarily straddle Jetson. The horse stammers and struts, stomping his feet.

  “Jedd,” I warn, gripping the reins as if I’d know how to use them.

  “Just relax. He’ll take to you.” Jedd continues to stroke the long neck of his new pal and then clicks his tongue. Together, they begin to walk out toward the field as I hang on for dear life. It’s been forever since I’ve been on a horse, and knowing this one doesn’t really want a rider makes me as skittish as him.

  “What are we doing?” I whisper. The night is so quiet, I’m afraid my voice will fissure the darkness.

  “You’ll see,” he says as we walk until we come to the paddock fence off the stables. Jedd uses the first rung as a step and then hikes himself up behind me.

  “Whoa, boy. You’re okay,” he tells Jetson once again. Jedd’s heat surrounds me, and instantly, I feel better, settling into his chest as he sets us off at a slow canter.

  We saunter in silence, letting the airiness of the night fall around us. It’s dark but bright, and Jedd points out the full moon.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say, keeping my voice so low I’m surprised Jedd heard me.

  “Yes, you are,” he says, breathing near my ear. I want his nose on me, but I’m bundled up in the warmth of scarf and cap so I settle for his breath instead.

  The bright moon casts a bluish glow over everything, and then I notice something else in the sky.

  “It’s snowing.” Sitting up a little straighter, I tip back my head, feeling the faint caress of a flake or two as it drifts slowly to earth. Jedd’s had both hands on the reins, but he slips one arm around my waist and squeezes, hinting for me to melt back into him.

  The white puffs dance toward the ground like dandelion wisps in the wind. I’d like to make a wish on a snowflake like you can with the seed of the summer weed. I’d hope for this night to never end. The depth of the darkness softened by the blue cast from the falling snow—it’s magical.

  “It’s so pretty,” I admit, still speaking low, afraid to disturb the nature around us.

  “It’s otherworldly, isn’t it?” Jedd says, stealing my thoughts. I nod to agree.

  “When I was overseas, I’d look at the moon sometimes and know that others were looking at the same moon as me, wishing, waiting on something, wanting more in life. It made me feel lonely and understood all at the same time. Does that make sense?”

  “Absolutely,” I reply. I’ve ignored the moon over the years, but once upon a time, I’d do the same thing. Staring at the round light illuminating the dark, I’d feel hopeful someone out there was looking at that same moon, and maybe we were thinking of each other without even knowing it. I used to dream it was Howard missing me, but I’d long since given up on that thought. The longing I felt was for someone else, and maybe I’d finally found him. Or he’d found me.

  “One of my favorite history lessons came from learning how on a night like this, actually Christmas Eve, when the north and south were fighting for this country, brothers and cousins crossed the lines to the song of “Silent Night.” They greeted each other. Maybe hugged their brethren, missing homes and families, wives and children. Wishing each other a happy holiday before returning to their side of an invisible line and taking up arms again. How can there be so much hate when a night like this speaks only of love and hope and faith?”

  A tear trickles down my cheek, and I don’t know why, but I begin to hum the Christmas carol until Jedd’s deep baritone voice breaks in with the words “silent night.” From there, I sing the remainder of the song, out of practice from using my voice in such a manner but remembering times I sang with Hannah when she was in the school choir. Memories of past holidays float through my mind as the words come back. The song grows hollow in my heart as I realize at some point, I let the holidays disappear. I gave up on the cheer and joy as I wallowed in my pain, and I forgot the magic of moments like this night.

  I chuckle without humor as I finish the song.

  “That was so beautiful,” Jedd whispers, his voice choked. I try to turn, but he keeps me facing forward. “Why’d you laugh, though?”

  I shake my head. “My sister Naomi believes in the spirit of the moon. It’s a feminine power opposite the sun, which is masculine. She’d have much to say about that fullness—make a wish and it will come true.”

  Jedd’s quiet for a moment, his face nuzzled into my scarf, and a heavy breath brushes my cheek.

  “My wish would be to propose to you properly, Bee. Maybe on a night like this when it feels hopeful and peaceful and anything is possible. At a time when you feel free and safe enough to be with me.”

  I shift forward, and he releases me. Looking over my shoulder at him, I watch the lines of his neck as his head tips back, looking up at the sky. His Adam’s apple rolls once, and my mouth waters, my tongue wanting to lick up the strain of his throat.

  I’d like that, I want to say. Instead, I tell him, “I trust you, Jedd.” It’s hard to admit, but I don’t have doubts about him. Telling him this is almost as risky as admitting my other feelings. My fear of him disappearing and leaving me behind hasn’t seemed warranted with this dedication to building up the barn, not to mention adding more and more horses. He’s so invested in his animals, and he never hints at wanting anything other than being right here. “Bloom where you’re planted,” he likes to tell me, and his arrival has made me blossom from the stagnant weeds of my life.

  “Thank you, honey. That means so much to me.”

  Jedd leans forward and brushes his lips softly over mine. His are warm, and we quickly heat. Almost as swiftly, he leans back, lingering as he pulls away. I want to follow his retreat, beg him to keep us warm right here on his steed. The kiss felt sad, less hopeful than the peace around us. I turn away and settle into his chest again, blinking away tears of frustration.

  Jedd turns the horse back for the house. We’ve traveled as far as we did on the tractor a while back, and I focus on nothing and everything, drinking in the quiet of the night, the somber sense of darkness, the brightness of the moon, and a strange feeling that something bigger exists around us. I can’t see the houseI know lies off in the distance, the old Crawford place Jedd asked me about, but I wonder about it. There’s not a light to be seen, but it’s also late. Does someone still live there? What happened to that boy turned man? Maybe I should pay a visit after all and reacquaint the families. Maybe bury the old hatchet that no longer exists. Thinking of this, I see movement near my barn as we near the stable. The two structures aren’t close, but I can see around the lower building at this angle. A large body lingers by the corner and then disappears into the shadows on the side. For some reason, I think back to the day I first snooped in Jedd’s room. He’s since packed up his belongings and moved them inside, even though he accused me of stealing back the blanket I made for him.

  Indian giver, he called me, which isn’t politically correct any longer, but I know what he meant. He thought I gave him something and then took it back.

  “Did you see that?” I ask Jedd, wondering if he noticed the man by the barn. We haven’t spoken about the stranger I feed again although I sense Jedd’s continued disapproval. He’s only worried about my safety, I tell myself, but I’m not afraid of the man, whoever he is. Maybe I should talk to Jedd about him after all.

  “What?” Jedd questions.

  “It looked like a shooting star,” I fib with a change of heart at exposing the stranger-savior.

  “Huh. I missed it,” he mutters, so
unding like he’s lost in his own thoughts.

  Jedd guides us up to the house and slips off Jetson. Lifting his arms, he grips my waist again and helps me off the horse. He doesn’t leave much space between the creature and himself, so my body slips against Jedd’s. My breasts scrape over his chest despite the thick padding of my coat, and my hands come to his shoulders as my feet hit the ground.

  “Thank you for sharing this with me,” I tell him.

  Jedd leans forward and rubs his nose over mine. “You know I want to share everything with you.”

  Come inside, I want to tell him. Let me share myself with you, I want to say, but I don’t. We just stand under the moonlit sky, breathing each other in despite the cold.

  “I need to get Jetson back,” Jedd says, stepping back to give me more space. Then he slips his arm around my back, and we become the three-legged couple as his knee slides between my thighs. I laugh as we fumble to the steps, and then he releases me, knowing I can handle the stairs on my own.

  “I’ll be in soon,” he says, and I wish he meant it as a suggestion, but I know he’s simply stating the passage of time. Soon? How much longer do I need to wait? It’s been decades of loneliness.

  Holding up a hand as a wave, I watch him take a step backward and then another step as if he doesn’t want to release his eyes from me. Then he spins and reaches for Jetson’s reins to lead him back to the stable.

  Knowing sleep will evade me after the burst of crisp, cool air, I decide to make a cup of tea and turn on the coffeemaker for Jedd. It’s the middle of the night, closer to early morning, but I’m more awake than I’ve been in a while. Every part of my body hums with an anxious need to burn energy.

  Once the water is set to boil, I hear the latch of the back door open.

  “Bee,” Jedd addresses me as he enters.

  “I’m not ready to sleep,” I say. “Thought I’d have some tea. I made some coffee to warm you up.”

  Jedd chuckles. “If I drink coffee, I’ll never sleep tonight.”

  I hobble over to the refrigerator and tug a chair with me. Standing on the seat, I reach for the cabinet above as Jedd mutters, “What in tarnation are you doing?”

  His hands grip my hip, keeping me steady as I search for what I know lingers in the back corner. Once I have it in my hand, I hold it out to Jedd who’s right behind me.

  “This might help you sleep,” I say, holding out the bottle of vodka. Jedd’s eyes leap to mine as he takes the bottle from my hands. He questions me about the secret stash, but I laugh. “I was a whiskey woman.”

  Jedd chuckles. “If only I knew you then…” he teases. “But I think I’ll skip this too. How about some tea as well?”

  He sets the bottle on the table and helps me off the chair, holding me for a moment like he did outside. Bodies pressed to bodies. Fingers hooked through the loop of my jeans. Our eyes lock until the kettle whistles, and I pat Jedd’s chest to release me. I make us each a cup, methodically watching as the steaming water flows over the tea leaves and the water turns dark in the ceramic mugs.

  Jedd leans against the counter as he takes his mug. He blows on the hot liquid and then sets it to the side without taking a sip. My eyes travel the outline of Jedd’s body. Long legs casually crossed at the ankle. Firm abs and chest under his open flannel. Two bulging biceps despite the one bionic piece. My heart races, and my lungs burn. A flutter takes up residence in my belly.

  I set down my cup of tea and step over to Jedd. My fingers shake as they reach out for his shoulder, running down to the cuff over his stump. The mechanism is exposed because Jedd rolls his sleeves to his elbows, liking a balance in his shirt. My fingers trace over the cool material until I reach the metallic claw.

  “Whatcha doing, Bee?” he asks, his voice rugged and shallow.

  Tapping his metal wrist, I tug the arm forward to loop into my jeans and step between his legs, which spread to allow me entrance between his thighs.

  I just want to hold you. I don’t say the words, feeling too vulnerable to admit them, so I show him instead, hoping he won’t push me away. I slide my palms up over the soft flannel covering his chest, around his shoulders, and then lean against him as I wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Bee,” he whisper-chokes, but I shake my head in the crook of his neck.

  Just give me this minute. My heart continues to race, and other parts of me pulse. My wrist. My neck. My core. My skin is alive. My blood flows. I want to absorb him into me.

  And then his nose drags up the side of my neck to just under my ear, and my lips find his skin. His hips nudge forward, and mine press back. My breasts brush against the firmness of his chest, and my nipples peak. My arms tighten around his neck. I can’t let him go.

  “In my fantasies, I push you up against the wall and take you, but I’m afraid that might be awkward with my arm,” he teases, turning me on even more with his thoughts.

  “I don’t need the wall,” I murmur into his warm skin, and his head tips.

  “That tickles.” He chuckles.

  “This is how you torture me,” I tease back with another kiss and then a sip, opening to suck at the edge of his scruff.

  “Torture?” he questions, slipping his fingers into my hair and tugging my head back to look at him. “You have no idea how hard I work to resist you.”

  I swallow hard, my eyes closing. I can’t face him with my request. “Jedd, for one night, can we not resist?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  [Jedd]

  She has no idea what she’s asking of me. I should deny her, give her more time, but when she nips at my neck a second time, I break.

  I’m just a man in need of loving this woman.

  I push her back once again, only enough to bring her lips to mine. I’m not lying when I say I want to toss her up against a wall and take her rough and fast. The fridge would work. The counter would be better. But with the deliberate strokes of her palms on my chest and her lips at my throat, I realize Beverly needs it slow.

  We kiss for too short a time, sipping at each other’s mouth before she leans away, drags her hands down my arms, and threads her fingers through my right hand. She spins with calculation and begins to lead me with one measured step at a time. She should be using her crutches, but the clutch she has on my fingers tells me she isn’t letting go. She’s not risking I’d run away. Little does she know there’s nowhere I want to run to other than wherever she leads.

  Following her at a painfully slow pace, we make it to her room, where she shuts the door and then falls into me. Our lips collide, more frenzied than the kitchen exploration. More frantic to be close. She’s the air I need to breathe, and I can’t draw her in fast enough.

  My fingers find the edge of her sweater and lift it. We break long enough for the thick material to slip over her head, and then her lips find mine again. I don’t miss the tremble in her fingers as she works the buttons of my flannel. At three buttons, I give up the torture and yank the shirt from the back of my neck, slip it over my head, and expose the holster of my arm.

  “Take it off,” I suggest, and her eyes narrow in on the contraption.

  “Tell me how.”

  My hand covers hers as I guide her to remove one strap and then the other, slipping the large holster off my back. The sock comes next, and she rolls it down, wiping at the skin as she tugs. Moisture can gather there, and I’m worried I’ll offend her somehow, but she’s cautious and curious, and then she surprises me by leaning down and pressing a series of kisses over the puckered skin.

  I’ve had women obsessed with this part of me, wanting me to do all kinds of things to them with it. I’ve also encountered women repelled by the stump but not repelled enough to reject the entirety of me. But I’ve never met a woman who took such care to caress this piece, and I swallow back the lump in my throat.

  “Bee,” I warn, worried I’ll break even more if she keeps up the attention. She stands to her full height, gripping my T-shirt in her fists and pushing it upward.
With her chest uncovered, I unsnap her bra. If we’re going to be skin to skin, I want it all. Her breasts are smallish, but as I’ve told her before, they fill the palm of my hand, and that’s all I want from her. Her eyes close as I cover one, tugging taunt the nipple, which is already hard. Lowering for the tip, I swallow her, laving the sharp point.

  Her fingers scrape at my scalp, holding my head to her breast. She whimpers when I move to the other one. My fingers find the button of her jeans, and she pushes at my shoulder, so I stand as her hands find the waist of my pants.

  “I’m fine if all we do is touch,” I tell her, stroking a finger along her waist while it flinches and flexes.

  “I want more,” she states, keeping her voice steady as her fingers work at my jeans. “I’m going to need to sit to remove these.”

  My first thought is that she means my pants until she hops to the bed, and I realize she means hers.

  “We’re quite a pair,” I tease, knowing there might be limits to our fantasies of each other, but there won’t be any barriers between us. I take down my own pants while she struggles to remove hers. Kicking off my boots, I reach for hers and tug them forward, which makes her fall back on the bed.

  She laughs, and I draw in the sound, knowing once again this is how it should always be with her. Laughter in bed. Leaning forward, I climb over her.

  “Scoot back.” She wiggles up the bed until we both cover most of it, and then I slip a leg between hers. My body blankets most of her as I balance on one arm. Her head rotates to my severed limb and back to my full arm. She’s not comparing them but sizing up the situation. Sparing her all thoughts, I kiss her. Within seconds, one leg wraps over mine, and she shifts so that our fronts collide. She’s moved me in a way the weight comes off my arm, and we meld into each other as our mouths lead the way.