Finally A Bride: A Valentine's Day Romance

by Colleen Charles

  I plop down the screwdriver. “Let’s fire it up and see what we’ve got.”

  He plugs it in and flips the switch. The thing roars to life, whirring and twirling. “Holy shit, Angelica! It works! You’re a miracle worker. How are you with leaky faucets?”

  A chuckle escapes. “Knight are you serious? My ninety-year-old great aunt can fix a leaky faucet. You’re about to lose your man card.”

  He sighs. “Sorry. I guess I just got carried away.”

  I run a hand through my hair. “Is it the kitchen sink?”

  “Bathroom sink.”

  Fuck me.

  Taking apart the man’s bathroom is a little too intimate for me right now. I barely know him. But I guess I’m in for a penny and in for a pound. Like most women, I just want to help. And leaky faucets are about the most annoying things on the planet. Like torture when you hear them drip, drip, dripping all night long after a hard day’s work.

  Knight leads the way and once we’re inside the tight space, he grabs the wastebasket and starts throwing the stuff that was under the sink inside it.

  Toothpaste. Check.

  Band-Aids. Check.

  Hydrogen Peroxide. Check.

  I’m about to slide underneath the sink and see what I’m dealing with when a box hits me in the face.

  Condoms. Triple Check.

  I hand them to him without looking but I’m unable to keep the heat from rising to my cheeks and lighting my face on fire while at the same time sending my pulse into fits.

  “Um… sorry about that.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m surprised you need them way out here. Exactly who are you planning on fucking in the middle of the arctic tundra? I think I’ve only seen a handful of women in Sweetheart Hills and they’re married.”

  When the fact of what I just said hits me, I search the floor with my fingers for the wrench and mumble, “Never mind.”

  I hear his sigh from my place inside the cabinet. “They’re old. The condoms I mean – not the women.”

  “They always are.”

  As Knight holds the flashlight, I give him a crash course on plumbing. Just the basics. Knocking and rattling usually means a loose washer. I quit trying after catching a glance at his expression when he peeks inside. He doesn’t get it. Probably never will. He needs to stick to saving animals and jilted curvy girls.

  This man’s mind just doesn’t work like a plumber’s would.

  Maybe that’s what I like about him.

  We’re really different.

  “You’re not listening to me, are you?” I ask.

  Another mumble. “I’m always listening. I just might not be digesting it.”

  “Well, you’re really good at holding the flashlight, so that’s something.”

  After I finish, I slide back out with my hair flying every which way but loose. I probably look just like Clint Eastwood after getting lucky catching the bad guy.

  “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

  Really? Because I can think of a few things you can do to thank me and I’m already flat on my back in your house.

  Where the hell did that come from?

  I tell my naughty side to can it and my gaze finds his. “No problem. We’re friends, right?”

  A swipe with a rag and the cabinet floor is dry again. I have to wash my hands, and he has some things to put away, but both of my repair missions are successful. My heart fills with a sense of accomplishment. I owe the man big and I’ve paid him back in spades. Without much discomfort, mission accomplished.

  When I spin around from the sink, I notice Knight hasn’t moved. He’s still on his haunches, the flashlight dangling from one of those hands I can’t stop looking at, and his eyes are trained on my face as if he’s never seen anything like me before.

  A woman holding a tool – and not his tool. Probably shakes him up inside. I’m either an ugly alien or a glittery unicorn in his opinion and judging from his neutral expression, he hasn’t decided yet. I’m not sure I want him to, because that would evaporate the fantasy taking up residence in my mind of him on top of me.

  “You’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever met.”

  Interesting, huh?

  I really don’t know how to interpret that word. It could mean a multitude of things. My pulse thrums as my cheeks flush again. I’m tempted to back into his warm tone – to back into him. But then I stop myself cold. He’s the one doing something extraordinary with his life. I’m just a runaway bride hiding from reality.

  I’m not who he thinks I am. Whatever that is.

  I’m glad we’re still relative strangers and he has no idea what a screw up I am, as I move swiftly toward the door.

  Escaping again.

  Grabbing my coat off the rack, I slide it on. “Sorry the repairs took so long. I’m sure you need to get going for your late-night kit feeding. I’ll just be on my way.”

  As I back out the door, I watch him.

  Watching me.

  Chapter Five

  Knight

  She yanks on her coat almost as fast as I took it off her hours before. When I grab mine off the oak hook, she insists she doesn’t need to be walked to her car.

  She’s sassy.

  Unique.

  Independent.

  Capable as fuck.

  Everything below the belt tightens. And it’s not like she’s sexy in a stripper or porn star sort of way. Not like those chicks that let it all hang out at bar close.

  It’s something else entirely.

  Something deeper.

  And it draws me to her so ferociously I’m not sure what to make of it.

  I just know I’ve never felt it before, and I don’t want to let it go.

  And it’s not like I don’t have things to do right now. Hoofing it out to the fox hole in the middle of a cold winter’s night. I can return her Instant Pot any other time. Hell, I can even drop it off at Cool Beans this week now that I know about her regular work shifts.

  But I don’t want to.

  Because all I can think about is sucking her plump lower lip into my mouth until my cock hardens into a steely rod.

  Ignoring her dismissal of me, I yank on my Carhartt and walk her outside unwilling to let her escape just yet. My breath chills, filling the air between us with frosty exhales. The woods are steeped in velvet darkness, cedar and pine aromas fragrant on the chilly air. A thousand stars glitter above us. But she doesn’t notice.

  She doesn’t notice me when I damn well want her to.

  We’ve been doing fine – getting to know each other at a nice pace – until I went and said I found her interesting during a moment of awe over her faucet repair skills. I never should have said that. Too generic and too open to a woman’s negative interpretation. What I really want to say is that I find her so sexy it distracts me from even knowing my own name. But I thought that would be inappropriate after I accidentally tossed expired condoms in her face.

  But despite my hot passion for this woman, I’m a gentleman and I’d never say anything like that to a woman alone out in the middle of nowhere in my house. That would make her feel very unsafe and that’s the last thing I want.

  I watch her fumble around in her purse for her key fob, talking up a storm about what to do if the blender malfunctions again. I stand there watching her, wishing I could kiss her quiet.

  “Angelica?” I step closer, my fingers itching to reach out and touch her.

  She barely finds a moment to glance my way. “Yeah? Listen – thanks for everything. For what you did for me inside Cool Beans. For what you did in the woods. I want you to know…”

  “Angelica!” I repeat, and this time something in my rigid tone snaps her head up. Still, she obviously isn’t expecting me to gently hook a finger under her lowered chin. Her face tilts and my gaze wanders the planes of her high cheekbones and delicate nose. God, she’s gorgeous. A platinum blonde goddess.

  And completely unaware of it.

  Which makes her even more all
uring.

  Desirable.

  Unforgettable.

  Those mesmerizing eyes shine with a vulnerability I haven’t seen there before when they’re normally brimming with fierce determination like she has something to prove.

  Once my head dips and those full lips move ever so gently underneath mine, I’m lost to her and what she makes me feel.

  It’s been so damn long.

  She tastes like coffee and cream and everything comforting on a cold night in a dark woods. She’s the ray of light from the harvest moon. The sparkles off the snow in the starlight. She doesn’t move away. She doesn’t argue or slap me or tell me to go back inside. Instead, she stills, holding her breath, as if she has no idea what she should do.

  But I know. My entire body ripples with instructions on just how I want to kiss this perplexing creature.

  The hood of her jacket falls back, revealing a glossy tumble of blonde waves thick enough to sink my fingers into. Unbidden, they slide into the silky mass as my mouth brushes gently on hers, coaxing just a little bit more from her.

  I understand her reticence. Hell, my whole life is spent dealing with skittish creatures with fear haunting their eyes. My bears – they have no reason to want a man’s hand on them. Because that hand usually means injury or even death. Because men hold all the power in this world.

  But for her – I want to relinquish my power and hand it over to her in a pretty package if only she’ll surrender to me just this once.

  She shivers when the pad of my thumb moves to the elegant column of her throat. Maybe she feels like she’s in danger from me – because I want to sink into her balls deep and experience her warm heat on this cold night.

  I brush lust aside as her fingers fist my coat, hanging on tight when my tongue traces the length of her bottom lip, sipping her flavor and then slips inside.

  As if she has no idea what to do, her tongue meets mine in a shy dance of give and take. But then my body tightens as a new stream of want slams into it when her hands snake around my neck and she leans in.

  The moonlight glows silver on her expressive face as she arches into me. It’s just me and her out here in the silent wilderness, experiencing each other in the most intimate way. And in that darkness, a fire of desire builds with lightning speed. Her mouth turns fluid under mine, wet and warm. After I come up for air, she brings my head down again.

  As if she can’t get enough of me.

  And God knows I can’t get enough of her.

  She’s close – but not nearly close enough.

  At her throaty moan, my blood rushes hot and fast. I’ve wanted women before in my life, but not like this. This is all encompassing. It screams and it rattles, and it demands everything I’ve got to give. It feels like sliding down a snowy hill with the power of an avalanche. Her hair tumbles through my fingers, as silky as the texture of her tongue. My hands sweep down, hampered by her bulky down parka, yet heat radiates from her body with electric intensity. Stars fall around us, louder than booming thunder.

  Or is that the roaring in my ears?

  Maybe I shouldn’t keep kissing her. Touching her. But damn if I don’t want to test that crazy connection crackling between us. I have to know if I’m imagining things, dreaming it into being just because I want it. I’m lonely and I’m hungry for something more. And I want to know if she’s going to be fire underneath my hand or ice.

  And my hunch turns out to be the right answer.

  She’s a raging inferno of hot, sexy woman. And even with layers of winter gear between us and the frigid air hovering below zero, she still makes me hotter than a backdraft.

  And just like one of my bears, I’ve already marked her as mine.

  As I gaze down, Angelica’s eyes hold a dazed cloudiness. Her parted lips are damp and swollen from the pressure of mine. She looks confused as hell as her fingers flutter to caress her lower lip. As if what just happened couldn’t possibly have, as if she could wave a magic wand and disappear back to her cabin and pretend this night never occurred.

  But there’s no going back in time and unfeeling things.

  Maybe she’s wasted all her time kissing classy corporate types and nerdy science geeks. And perhaps she’s wondering if maybe her time would have been better served kissing an outdoorsman. A man of the earth. Her own personal Grizzly Adams.

  Because obviously, desk jockeys don’t satisfy her because she kisses me like she’s lost and dying of thirst in a barren desert and I’m her oasis.

  I brush the hair back from her face. “You’re pretty amazing, Angelica, did you know that?”

  A war of emotions tangle in her gaze. “Um…”

  I wait, but all she does is swallow. Her eyes dart to mine, then away again like a fawn in the forest. A flush of heat kisses her cheeks.

  “Did you find your key fob?”

  She glances down to find them clutched between her fingers.

  I chuckle. “You know where you are, right, Angel? You’re okay to drive yourself home?”

  Her bemusement over how thoroughly I kissed her just hardens my dick another inch. As I reach out to steady her with a hand on her upper arm, she nods. I let go and she climbs into her car, backs up and drives away into the stillness of the night.

  I already feel the loss.

  I have formula to make, kits to feed, and a long night ahead of me. Still, I stand there, letting my body slowly cool down. The taste of her clings to my tongue and my memory. I want to savor the way she felt underneath my lips and my hands as long as I can before the gap of time breaks the spell.

  Despite the fact that I surprised her with that kiss – stealing it from her, I don’t feel any regret or remorse.

  Angelica’s like a bud in winter, underneath the ground and dormant. But come springtime, she’s going to bloom like the most vibrant flower. I can feel it in my bones. At first, I thought she was shy, but now that I’ve seen her in her element fixing things and teasing me, I know it’s laying there just underneath the surface waiting for the right man to coax it to life.

  Someone must have shattered her heart, shoving her light into the dark shadows that haunt every one of us at times. Even though I don’t like thinking about other men kissing her. Touching her. Fucking her. She’s not innocent at her age. An asshat wounded her deeply, but she’ll get over him.

  By getting underneath me.

  She’s special and I see it, even if she doesn’t. And that’s enough for now. Only a brave and strong woman would take off from her small Iowa town and move up here to no man’s land. She even took a job beneath her education and experience just to make ends meet. She was terrified in the woods by the black bears, but damned if she didn’t suck it up and get through it, showing more guts than most men. I damn straight see her – but the poor thing doesn’t realize the mistake she made.

  I told her about my work tonight and I expected her to turn tail and run. Other women always did. Finding a woman to share my bed isn’t an issue, and that was enough in my twenties. But when I hit thirty, it felt hollow. I crave something different now – something lasting. Deep. Real. I about gave up believing that I’d ever find a woman who wasn’t intimidated by the loneliness and isolation of my nomad’s existence. And I never blamed any of them. Hell, if the roles were reversed, I wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.

  But Angelica doesn’t run. Nope. She listens. Listens and accepts what I do, accepts me like no other woman I’ve ever known, even my own mother. Maybe she doesn’t understand the gift she just gave me. But I sure as hell do. And I won’t forget it anytime soon. Not ever.

  It might be dangerous to offer a mountain man kindness and solace – be his soft place to land. And she never should have shown me the dewy softness underneath all that false bravado, because I’ve already claimed her as mine. And she can’t take it back now when I’m having fantasies about forever.

  Despite the ghosts of her past, I want to pursue her and see where it leads. I can tell she’s got something lingering back in Iow
a, but it doesn’t matter. She’s here now. With me. Winning her trust will be an uphill battle. But every single thing that ever mattered to me didn’t come easy. If anything resides inside me in spades, it’s fight. I never walk away from a battle.

  And I always win the war.

  This time, it’s a battle for Angelica’s heart.

  Chapter Six

  Angelica

  Going anywhere near that man again would be a huge mistake.

  He does dangerous things to my equilibrium.

  And my brain.

  Like turning the space between my ears and my knees to mush. And his perfect lips? Gah! I toss a pack of gum into my purse, needing to keep my mouth occupied. I’ve been chewing a lot lately, trying to calm my frayed nerves. Grabbing my coat, I let out a huge exhale. It’s not like I have to go anywhere. Normally, on Thursdays my shift at the coffee house begins at four, right before the dinner rush, but Cool Beans is closing down tonight for a meeting of the Sweetheart Hills city council.

  And after, people will stay, packing the restaurant for late-night coffee, sandwiches and sweet treats. If I have an ounce of sense, I’ll stay away from the fray of the meeting and rest up for what promises to be a crazy work shift. And it will be the dumbest thing I ever do to put myself in the line of fire again by going near Knight Evermore and his full lips that deliver toe-curling kisses.

  But I still zip up my parka, then open my purse to pop another stick of Double Mint into my mouth. My stomach churns – not a good sign before I’ve even left the house. An even worse sign is that I still head toward the door.

  But something tells me that Knight is going to be all alone at the council meeting with a posse of redneck crazies bearing down on him, including Jess. And he needs someone in his corner, doesn’t he?

  But it doesn’t have to be the someone who’s smelled him. Touched him. Tasted him.

  As if my being there will even help him. He’s fully capable of helping himself. Hell, he rescued me multiple times. Like I would ever have to rescue him. Still I feel compelled to go if only for silent support. After his comments about the citizens of Sweetheart Hills wanting to run him and the animals he cares about out of town, something snapped inside my heart and my protective instincts have kicked in.