Until they’d both won.
On a throaty shout, she felt his body tighten under hers as a passionate cry burst from her own lips, her body giving itself up to the magic between them.
Her orgasm crested through her, in bright, glittering waves of pleasure she wanted to hold on to and never let go. It battered her with delicious sensations she’d never imagined could be so good.
On a final shout, Walker drove his body upward, nearly unseating her before wrapping his arms around her and dragging her down to his chest. They lay there for long minutes, hearts still thundering from the effort as their breathing returned to normal.
“I seriously hope these walls are soundproof,” Sloan mumbled against his chest.
His throaty voice drifted over her like a warm blanket. “I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re mine and I don’t care who the hell knows.”
Sloan lifted her head from his chest. “That’s very Neanderthal of you, Walker Montgomery.”
“Damn right it is,” he growled for added effect before dragging her up for a kiss. His hands were gentle where they held her face, while his mouth was anything but.
It was a kiss that branded and she found herself reveling in the raw, primal intensity of his actions. The heat flared between them again at the carnal mating of their tongues and in that moment, Sloan knew she was forever changed.
Like you didn’t already know that
.
She’d known it on some level but had resisted admitting it. Had resisted giving in to the powerful feelings Walker evoked effortlessly in her.
Desperate to keep the moment light, she resettled herself against his chest. “Is this some elaborate male ritual to keep me from bidding on Bear tonight?”
“Bear, Skate, Tommy, Chuck and all the rest of the guys. Save your money.”
“My journalistic integrity requires me to be more broad-minded than one bid. Besides, what if you get snapped up by that accountant from Chicago?”
“The one with the big tits?”
She rose up at that one, slapping him on the shoulder. “You noticed?”
He wiggled his eyebrows in return before lifting his head to plant a wet, smacking kiss on her open—and outraged—mouth. “Of course I noticed. I have a penis and a pulse.”
“An even bigger reason why I need to bid on several candidates. And I’m quite sure Bear has been a much bigger gentleman than you and hasn’t estimated my cup size.”
A long, low laugh greeted her, even as his eyes went dark with the unmistakable air of possession. “Want to make a bet?”
“Probably not.”
“Smart choice.”
“Will you at least clear your dance card for me?”
“Why, Mr. Montgomery. I do believe that is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Sloan waited a beat as his broad grin greeted hers before she went in for the kill. “Which makes it that much harder for me to have to tell you no.”
“No?”
“The fine, upstanding bachelors of Indigo have been promising me dances all week. I’d hate to disappoint my adoring public.”
“We couldn’t have that, now, could we?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m revoking your journalist’s license if any of them get you off the dance floor.”
“Impossible.” She smiled broadly. “I don’t have a license for you to revoke.”
“Cheeky witch.” He wrapped her in his arms for another searing kiss as he whispered against her lips, “What have you done to me?”
Instead of answering, Sloan opted to show him.
She pressed a kiss to his lips before trailing a path down his neck to his chest, marveling at the play of muscles under her lips. Her fingers brushed against the hard steel of his biceps where her hands held her weight on either side of his body and she was reminded of her thoughts from that first morning in the diner, before he’d taken her on a tour through town.
This man was rugged and tough and oh so male.
And
real
.
Even as she shared in the pleasure that built between them, Sloan couldn’t stop more memories from surfacing.
Couldn’t stop the day’s events from playing across the back of her mind.
Along with it, her discussions with Avery and Grier came back to her in a rush and her euphoria melted with the acknowledgment that no matter how many moments she and Walker shared, the clock was ticking and this thing between them was only temporary.
He’d made no move to discuss anything more serious with her.
And what if he did?
She’d spent so much time thinking about leaving she hadn’t given thought to what she’d say if he asked her to stay. To uproot her life and move to Alaska.
Would she stay?
“Sloan?”
“Hmmm?” She glanced up after pressing a kiss to the flat planes of his stomach.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why?”
“You drifted away there for a minute.”
With a mental head shake, she pulled herself back to the present and the sexy man who made her want . . . so many things. “I was contemplating.”
“Contemplating what, sweetheart?”
“The right path.” She trailed her fingers along the underside of his cock, pleased when he grew even harder in her hand.
If it were possible, Walker’s dark eyes grew darker as her meaning sunk in. With a broad smile, she resumed her efforts, her trail of kisses headed straight toward her destination.
As she replaced her hands with her lips around his straining erection, Sloan felt a shudder rack his body and heard his long, loan moan of pleasure.
Would she stay?
The question rose up again to taunt her.
To tease her.
To test her?
Walker dragged her upward on a groan before rolling her over to her back and plunging his body into hers in one long, smooth stroke.
Would she stay?
As the first throes of another orgasm gripped her, Sloan knew she had her answer.
Of course she’d stay.
She loved him.
Chapter Twenty-two
T
he Montgomery Meeting and Recreation Center was almost unrecognizable for the copious lengths of streamers, ribbon and soft twinkle lights that filled the outer hallway with an ethereal glow.
“The grandmothers have outdone themselves,” Amanda marveled as she looked around the entryway. “It’s even more beautiful than last year.”
The two of them
ooh
ed and
aah
ed their way toward the registration table and Sloan was grateful for the company. She’d run into Amanda as they were both leaving the Indigo Blue and they’d walked over together, both laughing at their heavy winter boots and cocktail dresses as they’d trekked up Main Street.
Grier had sent a perky text about fifteen minutes before they were set to leave, suggesting Sloan head on over without her.
She’d immediately interpreted the subtext as “I’m not yet ready to talk to you but save me a seat.” Which, in retrospect, she likely deserved for her earlier drubbing. The fact that it was absolutely warranted was really beside the point.
Sloan just hoped her friend was putting the extra time to good use, donning a killer outfit for the evening that would have Mick O’Shaughnessy on his knees.
“I never expected it to—” Sloan broke off. There was that word again.
Expectation
.
She hadn’t expected anything that had happened to her on this trip, from the friendliness of the denizens of Indigo to the amount of fun she’d had to the amazing thing that had developed with Walker.
“Look like a fairy tale,” Amanda finished for her.
“Exactly.”
“I thought the same thing last year. And then I realized, it was only fitting for a town that prides itself on love.”
Love
.
And just like that, all her feelings from earlier came rushing back at her. Now that the afterglow of great sex had faded, Sloan could look at the situation more objectively.
And oh wow and holy shit on toast.
She was in love.
She was in the middle of the wilderness and she’d fallen head over heels in love with the town lawyer.
How was this possible?
“Are you okay?” Amanda’s concerned expression pulled her from her reverie as they waited in line at the registration table, the loud thump of the base humming through the walls of the main auditorium.
“I really don’t know.”
“It’s a bit overwhelming.”
“You could say that.”
“But come on; look at it.” Amanda pointed to a long display of posters on the wall behind the registration desk. “Don’t you have to have fun when this is your inspiration for the evening?”
Sloan suddenly realized Amanda was on a completely different wavelength and, in fact, had no clue what she was really thinking. Instead, she was focused on a row of the most outrageous pictures.
Whatever deep and desperate thoughts had gripped her had to be shelved under the visual assault of the posters. The men of Indigo—sans Walker and Mick—were all posed in a variety of places around town, wearing not much more than a thong and a smile.
“Oh. My.”
“As you ladies can see”—Chooch gestured to the photos behind her as she took their money and gave them each a paddle with a number on it for the bidding process—“we have a fine selection of bachelors for your entertainment this evening. We encourage you to bid generously and please, for the love of God and all that’s holy,
please
, make sure someone bets on Tasty. If I have to hear that man lament for another year that he didn’t get bid on, I may kill myself.”
“We’ll do our best,” Amanda added on a strangled gulp as she nodded in the direction of Tasty’s photo.
“See that your best includes a bid, young lady,” Chooch admonished before shifting her focus on the next woman to come up to the table.
“Did you see that photo?” Sloan demanded as soon as they were out of earshot of Chooch.
“See it? I think it’s slightly illegal. And ewww, I’m never taking a man ice fishing if that’s what it does to his body parts.”
Sloan repressed a shudder, sorry the older man had gone bidless last time. She didn’t mind adding him to her list, but God help her if he wanted to take her ice fishing.
They moved into the main auditorium and Sloan forgot all about Tasty and his love of the great outdoors as her breath caught at the sight. If the outer room was amazing, the large auditorium put it to shame.
“Someone told me they’ve been working in here for the better part of a week.”
“It’s amazing.” Everywhere Sloan looked, something awe-inspiring captured her attention.
“Speaking of amazing, I want to go check out the auction table.”
“Make sure you get your bid in early?”
“More like I want to see who may be my competition,” Amanda said on a wink. “See you later.”
Sloan headed the opposite direction, intrigued by the series of ice sculptures that ran the length of the far wall. As she got closer, she saw they all depicted scenes from famous love stories.
Cinderella looked over her shoulder as she ran from the prince down a flight of stairs, her shoe nestled in his outstretched hand.
Sleeping Beauty lay in slumber as a handsome man leaned over to her, his mouth inches from hers.
Juliet stretched over a balcony railing with Romeo down below.
Several more complemented them in an incredible display of some of the greatest love stories of all time. Sloan moved down the line of sculptures, enthralled with each and every one of them, when her attention was again diverted by a large arbor that stood at the far end of the auditorium.
It was the most beautiful, fragrant arch, constructed of hundreds and hundreds of roses, all woven into the metal latticework, just waiting for someone to stand under it.
Or for a couple to stand under it.
Sloan reached for one of the petals, the texture baby soft under her fingertips. On a whispered sigh, she murmured to herself, “How did they manage this? It’s the middle of winter.”
“We fly them in. The roses,” Mary O’Shaughnessy commented. Sloan turned around, slightly embarrassed to be caught talking to herself, to greet Mick’s grandmother, her small frame resplendent in a bright silver gown covered in sequins. “Well, I say
we
. My grandson does all the work. He even did a run for me today at the last minute.”
“That’s why he missed the competition,” Sloan murmured before she could hold back the words.