She sauntered to the couch, her expression intense, her eyes not leaving his. She
put her knee up on the couch, reveling in her dominant role. He liked it too, but
he had something else in mind he liked even better.
He took hold of her thigh and tugged it up so that her high-heeled foot was on the
couch, the other on the ground, and the very tempting heart of her was right within
his reach.
He extended his finger and let it drift beneath the seam of her panties, sliding his
finger through her folds, finding her wet and ready. “Bad or good, Lucy Ryan-Carter,
I just think you’re perfect.” He slipped a finger deep inside of her and her head
fell back, a sharp curse on her lips. He liked seeing her like this. Liked seeing
the woman she was becoming. Not prim or proper. Not nervous. Confident in herself.
In the woman she was.
“You’re pretty perfect yourself,” she said.
She put her knee back down on the couch and put her other one on the other side of
his thigh, so that she was straddling him. “I came prepared.” She reached into her
bra and produced a condom packet, an impish smile on her face.
“You just got more perfect,” he said, kissing her deeply, taking the condom from her
hand. “I didn’t think it was possible.”
After taking care of the precautions, her pushed her panties aside and she moved over
him, sliding down onto his length, her lips shaped like a perfect
O
.
He put his hands on her hips and thrust up inside of her, and she matched his movements,
meeting him. Challenging him. Pushing him. It was building too fast. His arousal peaking
too far, too fast, clashing with the emotion that was raging through his chest.
He was nearly blind with it, the blood roaring through his ears, blocking out the
sound. There was nothing but Lucy. Her skin. He scent. The way she felt, so tight
and hot and perfect around his body.
The way she made him feel.
“Mac,” she breathed, release shuddering through her, fingernails digging into his
skin.
And that was enough to push him over into the abyss. He felt like he was burning alive,
like the fire would consume him. There was no way anyone could survive so much heat.
But he did. And when he came back to himself, Lucy was there.
And he found he couldn’t breathe. Because she made him crave something he’d vowed
he would never, ever need.
Not because he didn’t want it. But because he was afraid of what might happen if he
did.
Lucy’s world was officially rocked. And it was all Mac Denton’s fault. But she wasn’t
upset about it. She didn’t have that kind of floating hazy feeling she often had after
release. Not this time. Instead, she felt this incredible clarity. Everything seemed
sharper. More real.
Everything made sense.
“I love you,” she said.
She hadn’t meant to say it. Hell, she hadn’t realized she’d meant it until the words
had come out of her mouth. But she did mean them. She meant them with every newfound
piece of herself.
He went stiff beneath her, his muscles locking up, his whole body tense. “What?”
“Do I really have to repeat myself?”
“You had better.”
She moved away from him, suddenly feeling very exposed where before it had all felt
so natural. So right.
Now she just felt stupid and awkward. Laid bare. And it didn’t have much to do with
her nudity.
“I said I love you,” she said, cold dread winding itself around her stomach, making
her feel like she couldn’t breathe.
“Lucy… no. This isn’t what this was supposed to be.”
“I know that,” she said. “Don’t you think I of all people know that? I just got out
of this… miserable marriage and I’m trying to put the pieces of my life, pieces
of myself, back together, and the last thing I need is a committed relationship, or
strong feelings of any kind for someone, but… but I have them. Because you’ve
been a part of this process. You’ve supported me.”
Mac’s eyes were blank, his expression cold. “Don’t confuse that with love, Lucy.”
Anger spiked in her veins, hot and unreasonable. “I’m not confused about love. Not
now. I used to be. I used to think that love was there because I’d made vows to a
man, so it didn’t matter how he treated me. Didn’t matter that he thought I was stupid
and worthless, and that he told me so. I thought just because he was my husband it
meant he loved me, but I was wrong. He didn’t love me. He didn’t even like me. He
owned me, and that’s what he loved. He loved having me in his power. And I didn’t
know that possession wasn’t love. But I know that now. You’ve never once tried to
put me down, or put me in my place, and you of all people had a reason to. I earned
your disdain, and still you had too much decency to.”
“Listen to yourself, Lucy,” he said, standing. “Your husband was an ass, so you’re
confusing common courtesy with something deeper.”
“I’m sorry, is that what you consider screwing a woman on your couch? Common courtesy?
Silly me. I thought it might be more than that.”
“Don’t. You were the one who said it could be all physical. You were the one who said
you could handle it.”
“Yeah. I can handle it. I’m pretty strong, in case you missed it. Look, still standing.
But you know what? Just because I could handle it, doesn’t mean I didn’t develop feelings.”
“That’s not handling it.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t seem to be handling it,” she said, not sure where the
calm tone of voice came from. Not sure why she was able to stand him down, feeling
totally strong and justified.
He looked down and it suddenly struck her as almost funny that they were having an
argument with her in her underwear and heels and him completely naked. Almost funny.
“I’m not handling it. You’re right. It’s not the time. Just… get your stuff and
let’s go upstairs.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
“Get your clothes and let’s go upstairs,” he repeated.
“After this? I don’t think so.”
“Everything was going great, Lucy. Let’s just forget this happened.”
“No,” she said. “No, I’m not going to forget it just because it’s inconvenient for
you. I’m not going to go upstairs and just go on with the ‘sex only’ thing when I
want more. I am so damned tired of taking half, Mac. I took it for far too long in
my marriage and I will not take it from you, or from anyone else ever again. I want
it all. I want a man who loves me—more than that, I want a man who isn’t too afraid
to let himself love me.”
“You think I’m afraid?”
“Yes, I think you’re afraid. No, I know you are. Because your parents are such a disaster.
Because you’ve seen love play out badly. I’ve lived it. I have walked that road myself.”
“So why the hell would you ever do it again? Why would you risk a good thing for something
I’m not even sure exists?”
She swallowed and looked down at the floor. “Did you ever think that maybe what I
had, what you saw, wasn’t love? Maybe it’s not that love doesn’t exist, it’s just
that very selfish people misidentify it. They say they love someone, but what they
really love is themselves. Their own comfort. Maybe that’s what we’ve experienced.
But that’s not what we have. Not what we could have.”
Mac shook his head. “If you have to believe that, Lucy, I understand. But I don’t.
I just think it’s asking for a life filled with a bunch of fighting and pain. And
my parents brought kids into it. They made us be a part of it. I’m not doing it.”
“I didn’t think you were a coward, Mac.”
A muscled jerked in Mac’s jaw, and his teeth clenched tightly together. She could
tell he wanted to say something. That he wanted to yell, even. But he didn’t. Instead,
he backed away. “I bet you’ll be wanting to find another place to work.”
“Maybe eventually,” she said. “But I’m not just going to quit working here.”
“Oh, really?”
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I need this job. I’m not walking away from
it over some hurt feelings. I’ll get over it. I’ve learned enough about myself over
the past few months to know that. And to know that I survive heartbreak pretty well.”
Not this kind though. Her love for Daniel had eroded slowly over time. A casualty
of his behavior. His harsh words.
This was a sharp break in her heart. The loss of a man who had given up before they’d
ever really tried. The loss of something that could have been amazing.
“If you’re staying anyway,” he said, “why don’t you stay with me?”
She shook her head. “No. And I hate that I have to say that. But it’s time I lived
on my terms, and not just someone else’s. It’s time I asked for what I want and actually
expect to get it. I love you. If you decide you love me, if you decide not to be scared,
if you decide you want more than just sex and common courtesy, then you run to me,
and don’t wait. But until then… until then it has to be done.”
She bent down and picked up her dress, sliding it back over her curves and zipping
it. She put her hand on her chest. The throbbing in there, around her heart, was physical,
so painful it blindsided her.
She had done what she needed to. She’d made a decision for herself. She’d demanded
more. Demanded what she deserved.
It sucked a whole lot more than she’d imagined it would.
Because part of her just wanted to run back to him and say, hell yeah, let’s keep
having the sweaty sex. But there was something new inside of her, a core of strength
that she couldn’t ignore, didn’t want to ignore. And that strength wouldn’t allow
her to bend.
Not anymore. She’d spent too many years so bent she’d nearly broken.
And if she just bowed down and let go of everything that mattered to her, she wouldn’t
even be the kind of woman Mac would care for. More importantly, she wouldn’t be a
woman she could care about.
But it still sucked.
***
Mac didn’t want to get out of bed. He couldn’t remember that ever happening to him.
Not even after an all-night bender. Because he was a rancher, and that meant getting
up at the ass-crack of dawn. It meant putting on his boots and his hat and getting
in gear.
Daylight was precious, and his land was his livelihood.
But right now, he figured daylight and his livelihood could go to hell. He was already
there.
How could the absence of someone feel so miserable? He was used to the presence of
a woman making him miserable. It was why God had invented breaking up.
Usually, after a breakup he felt light and free. Now he felt hungover, and he hadn’t
even gotten that drunk.
The simple truth was, when he thought about love and marriage, he was filled with
bone-deep terror. It was why he’d generally avoided thinking about it. It was why
his relationships always ended early. So he never had to face it. So he never had
to deal with the fact that he was afraid. Lucy was right—he was a coward.
He was afraid of being the callous bastard his father was. Afraid of being stupid
like his mother. He didn’t know which thought scared him more. But he’d never seen
it go another way. And when he thought of being locked in that endless hell with someone…
he just couldn’t even entertain it.
No matter how much it hurt now, it would hurt worse later. For both of them.
Which meant no matter how much he wanted Lucy, no matter how much he wanted to tell
her whatever she needed to hear to keep her in his bed, his life, he had to let her
go.
He growled and threw the covers off, planting his feet flat on the floor. He had things
to take care of. He didn’t have time to wallow. And still, all he wanted to do was
wallow.
“Sad sack,” he muttered, forcing himself to stand up.
He’d always assumed his life experiences had just beaten the ability to love right
out of him. But it turned out that wasn’t true. He could love. He was just too damn
afraid to do anything about it.
Anything other than hurt.
Lucy felt proud of herself. She’d made it through two weeks of working at Mac’s house
without falling into his bed or falling apart. And neither was any mean feat.
The man was gorgeous and frequently walked around shirtless looking like a dessert.
He was visual cake, and she wanted to lick all the icing off.
And then there were the moments when the pain of not being with him, of not having
an emotional connection, hurt so bad she thought she was dying a little.
They barely spoke. He barely looked at her. They were almost worse than they’d been
when she’d first shown up on his doorstep. Because they’d been enemies then. But they
were strangers now. At least enemies had evidence of passion. This was… it was
like he was pretending nothing had happened between them.
The upside was that she wasn’t hurting over her marriage anymore. She just felt…
past it. She felt new, and different.
She also had the barbecue project to fling herself into, and now, with less than a
day to go before the big event, she was up to her neck in planning, so pining was
a little difficult.
“Almost done!”
Lucy turned at the sound of Carly’s voice, straightening from where she’d been tying
a bow on the back of a chair. Not a stiff, linen bow on a crisp white chair cover
like she might have done at a formal party. She, Sarah and Carly had been tying raffia
bows around wooden chairs for hours. But everything was getting close to completion.
They’d also spent time prepping Mason jars by putting sugar on the rims, perfect for
the strawberry lemonade that was going to be served. And the people who had volunteered
to man the grills had already started prepping the beef—high quality, highly sought
after beef provided by Mac Denton, of course.
She sighed. All right, so she might suck at love, but she was good at planning events.
And she didn’t need anyone to tell her so.
Well, it wouldn’t hurt. But unlike when she’d been married to Daniel, she wasn’t pinning
all of her hopes and dreams on someone else’s response. She wasn’t putting all of
her self-esteem in someone else’s hands.
“Yes.” Lucy planted her hands on her hips. “We are. It’s really looking great.”
“And you’re frowning because… ?”
“Because?”
“Does this have anything to do with my brother?”
She and Sarah exchanged a look. Sarah’s cheeks were bright red. Subtle the other woman
was not. If there was ever a need to cover up a crime, Sarah would not be her first
choice as accomplice.
“Why do you ask that?” she asked.
“Because while the rest of us were devouring chocolate cake a couple of weeks ago,
he was devouring you with his eyes.”
“Oh.” All things considered, that was a hideously embarrassing observation for Mac’s
sister to have made.
“Was that a confirmation?” Carly asked.
“If it was,” Lucy said slowly, “then… let’s just say that we want different things.
There’s just no way that we can make other things work right now. Because of the different
things we want.”
“Because of your marriage?”
“What does my marriage have to do with anything? I’m free and clear legally. I can
do what I want with who I want.”
“Legally… but emotionally?”
Lucy frowned. “It’s not me. It’s him. I love that sorry jackass and he’s way too scared
to accept it.”
Both Sarah and Carly looked at her, openmouthed. “You love him?” Carly asked.
“I didn’t mean to,” Lucy said.
“I’m sure you didn’t!” Carly said. “My brother is a bad bet. I love him, but when
it comes to women—”
“I know,” Lucy said. “I know. And I thought I just wanted to have some fun after the
divorce, but then… it turns out there’s a lot more to Mac than it seems like
at first. He’s a good guy. I don’t know if even he realizes how good.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Carly said.
“I can kind of relate because until recently, I thought I was pretty worthless. But
Mac showed me something else. He made me see myself differently. You both did too.
Maybe I need to help him with a change of perspective too.”
Because she hadn’t been wrong about his fear. It was there, as real as her own. And
it was easy to walk away, to say she needed to stand on her own feet. She did need
to stand on her own feet, and she was standing on them, but Mac, and her feelings
for him, didn’t have to compromise that.
He was in the woods. Just like she’d been. Lost, blind. Unable to find the path out.
No, she couldn’t go on sleeping with him, wanting more and getting nothing. But she
couldn’t leave him to wander the wilderness forever either.
And if there was nothing, if he wouldn’t come with her, she’d have no choice but to
leave him, even though it broke her heart.
But she’d be damned if she’d abandon him to his anguish, like her parents had done
to her. She and Mac had always been left to their own pain. Well, he’d helped her
step out of hers.
She had to at least try and help him do the same.
***
Mac couldn’t shake the strange tightness in his chest. He hadn’t been able to shake
it since that disastrous fight and subsequent breakup with Lucy. Was it even a breakup?
They’d just been having sex, hadn’t they?
A sharp twinge in his chest mocked that little lie he’d been telling himself.
He took a deep breath and looked around. The fund-raising barbecue looked like it
was a huge success. There was something magical about it, something unique. From the
paper bag lanterns that lined the walk, to the lights strung overhead, the live band
and the candles on all the tables.
It was both country and classy at the same time. It was so very Lucy.
He suddenly wanted to be anywhere else. Or stay here forever, in this place that had
the imprint of the woman he loved all over it.
Love? Damn. When had it come to that?
And what the hell was he supposed to do about it?
Just not be afraid?
Or maybe be more afraid of life without her than of taking a chance at life with her?
Yeah, that hit close to the truth. In a big way. Because the simple fact was that
if he didn’t have her, he would never be happier than this. And this was not happy.
This was miserable. This was “climb into the bottom of a bottle of Jack Daniels and
never come out” miserable.
And sure, marriage, commitment, all of that, were scary as hell. But on the other
side he had this. This howling void of pain, and honestly, no amount of unknown was
scarier than feeling this forever, and ever, and ever.
It was true what they said. Love, perfect love, demolished fear. At the very least,
it made it seem small.
“Hi, Mac.”
He turned and his heart just about stopped. Lucy in a simple white sundress was enough
to make him lose his mind. And it turned out Lucy just being Lucy was enough to make
him lose his heart.
“Hi. Things look great.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“Look, I…”
“Eh. Don’t start a sentence that way. No one ever says anything good when they open
with ‘Look.’ Listen is the same.”
“I was going to try to make a half-assed lame apology.”
“I was right then. I really don’t want to hear it, so… why don’t you try something
else?”
“Like?”
“Ask me to dance.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“It is.”
“How do you know?”
She smiled, dark eyes glittering. “Because it was my idea.” She studied his face for
a moment and her expression turned serious. “What?”
He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Sometimes, when I look at
you, I feel like I just got punched in the gut.”
A short laugh escaped her lips. “Is that a good thing?”
“I don’t know. It makes it impossible to pretend like I don’t feel anything, that’s
for sure.”
“Then it is a good thing. Come on, come dance with me.”
She took his hand and led him over to the raised wooden dance floor. He pulled her
into his arms and his knees shook. It felt so good to have her near him again. After
so many days of pretending like he’d never touched her, never kissed her, never made
love to her.
“So let’s talk about that feeling that makes it feel like you got punched,” she said.
“I don’t know what to say about it.”
“You feel something for me,” she said.
“I never said I didn’t, Lucy. I just said it was impossible for us to have more.”
“It’s not though,” she said. “Do you see all this?” She waved her hand around.
“Yes. It’s amazing.”
“I know. I know it is. And it’s amazing because of me. Do you know how great that
feels? I have confidence in that. But I wouldn’t if it wasn’t for you.”
“I didn’t give you the job. Carly did.”
“I know. But you gave me my first job. You didn’t laugh at me when my pie turned out
to need a log splitter to cut it—you just ate the filling. You didn’t push me down
further when I was at bottom— you pulled me up. You got angry for me when I told you
about my ex. No one else had done that for me. No one else had listened. You made
me see something new in myself. You made me see something of value.” A tear slid down
her cheek. “I want to do that for you.”
“Lucy,” he said, his heart squeezed tight. “I’m fine. It’s not that. It’s just…
relationships…”
“You’re afraid of messing it up, I know. But do you think I would do anything to hurt
you?”
“No.”
“So you’re afraid you would hurt me,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said, feeling like his throat was about to close up.
“You wouldn’t. I wish you could see what I see. I wish you saw the man who helped
a woman who treated him like dirt. The man who gave that woman her self-confidence
back. Because that’s the man I see. I man completely worthy of giving and receiving
love. A man I wish would love me. Because I really do love him.”
“I do love you,” he said.
She stopped dancing, her mouth falling open. “You do?”
“But… I don’t know how to be a husband. My parents had a horrible marriage. I’ve
never thought about being a husband or a father. I don’t know… I don’t know if
I would do right by you, and after what your ex did, I can’t stand the thought of
hurting you.”
“I told you I didn’t need your protection. Anyway, you hurt me in your effort to not
hurt me.”
“I hurt myself too,” he said.
“That’s a little bit gratifying,” she said. “Okay, a lot gratifying, even. I’m glad
to know I haven’t been suffering alone.”
He took her hand and squeezed. “Let’s move this somewhere else.”
“Okay.” There was no missing that they were drawing interested looks from the other
dancing couples. And he had no doubt this would be serious town gossip by morning.
He took her over to one of the barns and around to the side. It was dark there, quiet.
And he was done talking.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, with every ounce of emotion—all the pain,
love, desire—he had in his body. When they parted, they were both breathing hard.
He pushed a hand through his hair and discovered it was shaking.
“I don’t know how to say all the right things,” he said. “I don’t know how to do all
the right things or be all the right things, but I know that I want you. I want you
with me, by my side. And it’s not because of your cooking.”
She laughed. “No kidding?”
“Not even a little. It’s not because of anything you can do for me, really. It’s just
because of… you.”
Another tear slid down her cheek, silver in the moonlight. “What do you mean you don’t
know how to say and do the right things? In one sentence you just showed me love in
a more profound way than my husband showed me for eight years.”
Something expanded in his chest: a depth of emotion he hadn’t realized was possible
for him to feel that made his eyes sting. “Wow, Lucy, just think what I could do with
that kind of time.”
“I’d love to find out,” she said.
He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff. And he had two choices. He could
go back and he could live the same way he always had. Or he could jump. Forget fear.
Forget everything but Lucy.
If he was lucky, he would land in her arms and nothing else would matter.
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time,” he said. He found there wasn’t room
for doubt anymore. And that he’d left fear behind, back up on the ledge.
“Mac… I’ve been in love. I’ve seen what it’s like when it withers. But when I
fell in love the first time, I believed that I had to make myself into the wife my
husband wanted to see. What I’m offering you is me. Me the way that I am. I can promise
you that I won’t always conform to what you’d like me to. And I can promise I’ll fail
in some things. But I can also promise that I’ll love you through all that. I promise
that if you can love me,
me
, and not the idea of me, then I’ll give you the same.”
Mac cupped her cheek, his heart pounding so hard he thought he might pass out. “I
don’t want you to change. You’re so strong. And when you told me where to shove it,
you were right to do it. I deserved it. Because you deserved more than I was giving,
and I’m damn proud of you for that. Don’t take less, Lucy, not from me or anyone.”
“I won’t. And the very fact that you asked me not to compromise shows me I won’t have
to.”
“My parents,” he said, his throat tight, “I think they were in love once too. But
they forgot to give to each other. They were so caught up in their own shit they didn’t
look at each other, they didn’t look at their kids. I’ll remember.”
“I will too,” she said. “I promise.”
“It helps that I know you’re a strong woman who won’t put up with that kind of stuff.”
“It helps that you’re a strong man who won’t put me through it.”
For the first time, he felt like he was strong. Strong enough to make a change. Strong
enough to promise love, and to know he would honor that promise.
“I love you, Lucy,” he said. “The kind of love that changes a person.”