Chapter 48

She got there in the dark, parked a little ways from the cabin. Wanted to walk with Prince toward the pleasant time, clear her head a bit through the woods she loved. An unseasonal Indian summer was in full swing, and the forest was vibrant, even in the gathering nightfall. Crimson and orange, pale yellow fluorescent leaves mixed with the emerald ones that still clung to the branches.

Prince, off his lead, ran ahead, thrilled to be on the way home. “Hey boy,” she called. “We’re almost there. You happy to be home? See Nathan?”

As she approached the cabin, she become aware of something different. The stars overhead were twinkling on this clear night, for sure. But what was that ahead?

Sparkles of soft, white light, through the pines, the maples and the birch. Just a couple at first, then as she trod the soft, mossy earth, they seemed to multiply.

She made her way through the last stand of trees, came onto the clearing of her tiny cabin in the woods, and stopped.

A thousand fairy lights. Pale, breathy strings of them everywhere.

And on the porch, standing beside three brand-new Adirondack chairs, pink, pale yellow and misty green, the man who’d apparently been the architect of a scene out of a movie.

Nathan Hero.

He stood, hand on the back of one chair, in pale blue chambray shirt and jeans. His gaze was riveted to her, as if to a fairy queen’s arrival.

And as to minions surrounding him, waiting too for her arrival—there was only one, tail wagging to beat the band. Sweeping the porch, brushing a clear spot in amidst the tiny bits of woodland flotsam that was always present. Ryker.

She watched as the puppy stared up at Nathan, about ready to burst. Saw the quick smile on his face, heard him softly release the puppy.

Ryker ran. Like a crazy thing, ears flying, bounding toward Prince, who’d also started toward his buddy. They met in the middle, danced around each other, nipped love bites at each other. Crazy-making, wild, holy hell it’s probably been a whole day since I’ve seen you buddy, dog love.

“You made it.”

“I did.”

“And on time.”

“Might have something to do with the fact that I’ve done this particular trek before.”

“A few times at least.”

“I’ve got something for you.” On a squat half-barrel she knew had originally been in her make-shift garden out back, he’d laid a clear Lucite tray of drinks in a round pitcher, with slices of pink grapefruit and lemon bobbing in it. She watched as he poured her a tall glass, then one for himself too.

The moment was perfect, and she didn’t move. Didn’t reach to take the glass from him. He watched her, put the drinks down. Faced her, opened his arms. “Here.”

She moved into them, looked up at him as he held her. “Hi.”

He scrutinized every inch of her face. Raised his hand, brushed away a strand of hair from her cheek. Didn’t speak.

Then his gaze rose to hers and she read the query in them. Smiled.

His fingers spread out on the side of her face, holding her gently, he bent his face to hers, and they kissed.

His scent was fresh, clean, like the great Canadian north country she loved. And as he kissed her, the queer little squiggle she felt in her gut started to riot.

He groaned her name, then broke the kiss. “We’d better get to the meal or I’m not sure we’ll get to the meal. Does that make sense?”

“I did have a few nuts in the car.” She’d thought the moment would be dramatic. She certainly felt dramatic, as she’d pictured what they’d move on to.

But then the realization of what she’d said swept through her, and she collapsed in his arms, giggling. And after a moment of shocked silence, he started laughing too.

The dogs bounded over to them, curious about the sudden melee between their two owners.

“Aw, I’m sorry. Here you do this lovely thing, and I have to make it…comical.”

“You make it just right.” He swept a couple of burgundy fallen leaves off a chair. “I didn’t invite a caricature of a woman, reading from a script book on how to attend a dinner in the woods.” He looked at her meaningfully. “I invited you.”

And all she could do was smile and sit in the chair that hadn’t been there before.

He lowered himself into one too and handed her a drink, then thumped the wide arms of the chair. “Wondering where these came from?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled, a happy look what I did for her smile. “Kids added another couple to the collection in front of HQ a little while ago. I asked if I could borrow them, and they said no. They had to be paid for, and weren’t quite all paid off yet.’ He took a big slug of his drink. “Amazing the money you can liberate if you borrow a hot plate from a neighbor, stock the fridge with six dozen eggs, a loaf of rye bread and buy a bottle of ketchup. Simply amazing.”

“Nathan, you didn’t!” She clasped his hand, laid hers over his big one. “For me? For my cabin?”

He flipped his hand so they were palm to palm and entwined his fingers with hers, their standard pose now, it seemed. “For us to sit here together at night.” His voice dropped. “For the… mornings.”

A rush of promise swept through her. Her voice was husky. “Have you decided? On…”

And suddenly, the question was too big. Damn it all, they hadn’t even discussed it yet, really.

Though hadn’t they both been playing with the answer for a while now, testing it out? Without words, or verbal acknowledgement, but it was there, just the same?

“On…?” Nathan prompted, gaze focused on her. Attentive. So attentive.

She swallowed. “Ryker.”

“Oh, Ryker.” He shook his head. “Funny, it’s almost a non-question now. Yeah. Yeah, I’ve decided.” He looked toward the cabin, where both dogs were crated, sleeping off the special meal he’d given them too, as a treat.

She threw her hands into the air. “And?”

“What would I do without him?” He said it quietly, a fait accompli. Something fell into place, deep in her. Yes. The right decision. She was so relieved, for Ryker, him, and her.

But she sensed there was something more. And she wasn’t wrong.

“Jack’s Bay is your home, right Amy?”

“It is. That doesn’t mean I’m stuck here forever, but yeah. It is.” She looked off into the forest, at the dark shapes, stalwart and tall. “Wherever I am, I need a home. I can’t be on the road continually. I need a solid place, one I can count on.”

“It’s my home now too, Amy.” He paused, then whispered. “Wherever you are, that’s home.”

* * *

Heat thrummed through her. He’d served her steak, tiny new potatoes boiled in their jackets. Organic butter, because she liked organic. Beets.

For dessert, fresh raspberries with whipped cream over an Emma-contributed scratch vanilla cake with berry frosting. And pink, the pinkest of ice-cream on the side.

Now, he stood. Held out his hand to her in the dark, the fairy lights twinkling around them, the sweet scents of the forest close.

She placed her hand in his, felt his fingers close around hers, saw the invitation in his eyes. Gentle, tentative. Tangled with the query. Always the query.

But she knew what the answer was.

Yes.

He searched her face, saw every inflection, she knew. Eyes focused, desire narrowing them, but giving her the power. Her Delta North man, so strong, yet gentle in his very being. A real partner, offering no nonsense, no lies, but in that, offering all of what he had.

Himself.

She smiled at him, and she saw the moment he knew the answer. A tiny wave of surprise mixed with eagerness lit his eyes, and he squeezed her hand, drew her into the cabin.

He’d turned the lights down low, lit candles. High up, where the animals couldn’t reach them, in protected enclaves she’d created just for that purpose. They flickered as the gentle woodland breeze stirred the air.

And she was glad for them. They’d shed their soft light for her other nights, when she was alone.

But never on this scene before.

He stopped abruptly, pulled their clasped hands down hard at their sides. Their bodies knocked together. “Amy.”

“Nathan.”

He whispered, and she felt the heat of his breath on her cheek. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“No.”

His lips found hers and claimed them in a dizzying kiss. She opened to him, tasted him, male yet a hint of sweetness, let him taste her. Time stopped, and it was only them. The pressure as he held her hands captive, taut against their sides kept her plastered to him. She felt the length of his hardness pressing into her.

She wound her arms around him, pulled him close.

They stumbled toward the couch, mouths locked, tongues tangled, the kiss unbroken. “Here?” he asked, barely getting the words out.

“Here.”

Then they were on the small couch, in the same spot where he’d thrashed the whole night through, so many nights ago. She didn’t protest as he turned off a small light, grasped the hem of her white top, and pulled it off over her head. He cupped her breasts through the push-up bra, rested his lips on the flesh peeking out over it. He tasted her, then dug his tongue in past the restrictive cloth, deep into the cup, the fabric of it abrading her with the movement.

It was hot. Sexy. Getting more so as he persisted. “Nathan.”

He didn’t answer, just kept it up, tension mounting in her veins.

Lust leapt through her. His tongue was a master in itself. It reached her nipple, flicked it, made her scream.

Her hunger spiked, pitched high, as she clawed at his shoulders. “Now!”

His voice was husky. “I like when you do that.” He continued to suckle her swollen flesh, bra still on her, the nipples raked as he worked away within the confines of the fabric.

“So?”

His soft laugh. But he unsnapped the fastener in front and freed them, and she felt the hit of cool cabin air, especially where they were wet, and gasped. “Yes.”

He pushed her back, gently, placed her against the back of the couch. She was laid out in front of him, arms at her sides.

“Beautiful.” He raised his gaze, practically swallowed her whole. “So damn beautiful.”

“Again—what are you going to do about it?”

He grinned, cocky. Raw. “Just watch me.” And bent to her.

She smelled the scent of the evergreens in his shampoo as he started at her breasts. Her nipples were taut, hard as diamonds. Rigid nubs, desperate for him. His work-roughened hands scraped along her arms, down to where her hands were at her sides. They’d clenched into fists, her knuckles white, clutching at the fabric.

He unclenched then, straightened her fingers, pressed them into the couch. “Keep them there, okay?” His breathing was audible, and he seemed to burn heat onto her breasts with his gaze.

What was he thinking? She couldn’t bear it.

Then he touched the sensitive flesh. God. Just a touch! She jolted, narrowed her eyes. Sucked in a breath.

“Close your eyes.”

She did, and was lost in a world of sensation.

His fingers circled her full breasts, rounded the flesh. Shivers danced along her skin, merged in her core, while she kept her hands flat where he’d positioned them.

He played with her nipples. When they tightened even more, hurt, she felt her core raise, move toward him of its volition. Her back arched, pushing herself toward him. Toward that mouth.

Need. Raw, and primal. Only one thing would suit her.

She felt him grasp at her waist, pull her shorts down, her panties. She was completely naked now, the scent of her arousal heavy.

His hand grasped hers, pulled it up. “This.” She found her fingers wrapped around the bulge of his cock, pressing against his jeans.

God. She wanted that. A mewling erupted from her throat, and she kept her hand on him.

Then his shorts were off and his hard, smooth cock was in her palm. Springing beneath her fingers, pulsing.

And he was laying her down, onto the tiny couch.

Eyes still shut, she felt the couch graze her back. Felt the smooth condom as he slid it on. The couch groaned under his weight, and his knees brushed against her thighs.

She squirmed, moved into position. Opened to him. Felt the gentle pat of his fingers on her pussy, sucked in a breath.

Then his arms were on either side of her. His mouth suddenly at her ear.

The quick words. “You good?”

Her heart warmed, but her pussy was still throbbing. Empty.

She bit her lips, said the words emphatically on a guttural groan that leapt from somewhere so deep in her, she hadn’t even known it was there. It’d been buried. “I need you.”

And she raised her ass, once again angled her core toward him.

She heard his soft moan, and god. She wanted to see him above her. She envisioned him in front of her, cock jutting. Kept her eyes shuttered for another second.

Then she opened them, and in the flickering candlelight, saw exactly what she’d envisioned. All here, present in the liquid moment. The strong form of his body, backlit. His hard chest, those strong arms. His cock. Aimed at her pussy.

And smiled.

She felt the heat of his body, the scrunch of their tight position on the small couch as he moved toward her. His chest hit hers, and he entered her. She gasped as he advanced, inch by inch. Earthy, carnal. Aching.

Suddenly, he was in.

“I can go slow, or fast.” He trembled, in strong restraint. “You say.”

She swallowed, the heat from him everywhere. “Everything. I want everything. All of it. All of you.”

“Amy.” His words were guttural, low. “I love you.”

A breath jolted from her, the surprise of it catching her off guard. “I love you too.”

Nathan thrust into her. She peeked her eyes open as the couch started to do a seesaw, and saw him above her, riding her. His eyes closed, face tight.

The dance began.

Out. Back in, harder, if it was possible. Out, then he was in her again. Stretching her, deeper than anyone else ever had.

The motion turned hard. He kept it up, as she clutched at the back of the couch on one side, the edge of the chest on the other side.

God. It was scintillating. Everything she’d wanted. Delicious, agonizing. Demanding. A slash of pain every now and then. She hung on, reveling in his every thrust.

Then it happened. “Gah. Amy!”

She hung on, as the timeless moment unfurled, halting everything. First from him, then she surprisingly joined in. It started small, then uncoiled within her, the passion, the powerful release. It burst into wild color, overtook everything, turbulent and explosive. Rose, then shattered her, utterly.

And it was done.

She stuttered out a heavy breath as he collapsed onto her, their sweat hot and sticky, mingling.

“Amy.” He could barely catch his breath. “Holy hell.”

She mustered a bare response. “Agree.”

He raised himself up, damp hair sticking to his forehead, and gazed into her eyes. “Thank you.” His eyes looked so large, she thought she could see into his soul.

And that real, unembellished look, nothing hidden, vulnerable—did something to her insides, her heart.

Melded her to this man. Once and for all.

That tiny pinprick of light that had flared inside her the day she met him burst, spread everywhere within her. She couldn’t reclaim it if she’d wanted to.

“Nathan?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at the man. Not fancy, not flashy. But where her heart had come to rest, the man she trusted now.

“You’re my hero.”

* * *

After, he traced the tips of her breasts, while she lay on the couch recovering. He gave her the whole thing, chose to sit beside her on the hot pink shag rug, the endless knot spiral close by. Within reach.

Within reach.

And when he’d cradled her from behind, walked her upstairs the curved staircase for round two, both naked, she’d entered her single-woman’s bedroom to a soft pink throw, light and new, tossed onto the bed. Gasped.

A vase of flowers holding peonies of pale pink with tulips and tiny little blushing flowers that looked like buds on a string sat on the pale sideboard.

“I thought we’d end up here first,” he’d murmured into her ear. “I wanted to strew them all over the bed, but the stalks were wet, and then we’d end up in a mess—you know?”

And when she’d pointed to a dark brown throw, also new, on her small tub chair in the corner, and the duffel bag beside it, he’d answered.

“Mine, if you’ll have me.”

And they made love again, endless times.

Okay, it only seemed endless. Three times. Twice he’d obliged her, let her take the lead. By the last time, she’d played the dominatrix, and she’d loved that too. The big ex-military man kneeling at the foot of the bed, the lady fair in the middle of the broad bed, knees bent, ass propped on a pillow, pale in the moonlight. Clutching the sheets at her side, so it was good. Mind-blowing good.

The last time, she’d ridden him, head and hair back, while he grasped her ass with his big hands, kept her fastened tight as he screamed her name and came.

And when they awoke in the morning in her big King-size bed, limbs all over each other, with Prince on his side and Ryker nestled in the crook of her underarm on the other side, she knew it had happened, though they’d never talked of it once.

They were a family.