Authors: Claudia Connor
Hannah sat on a bale of hay just outside the back of the barn. She tugged on the leather straps, working them loose to adjust the special saddle to fit the small four-year-old she’d see later today. Pausing, she shook out her hands.
“You did too much yesterday,” Lexie said, stopping beside her. “You should take something.”
Yeah. She should. But she smiled at the worry on Lexie’s face. “I’m good. You don’t need to be here on a Sunday, Lexie. It’s your day off.”
Lexie made a disagreeable sound under her breath and continued about her business. “You think it’s going to work?”
“I don’t know.” She wondered if Lexie had seen the news last night. “Stephen said there’s still a chance. The public still has time to rally.”
“And if not?”
“If not…” She shrugged. “I guess I’m moving.”
“This is all such a load of shit. Just a load of stinking shit.”
She agreed.
“Hannah?”
Stephen.
“Out here.” She got up to meet him.
“Mighty fine man that makes a girl smile like that just by calling her name,” Lexie said, amused.
Yes. Mighty fine indeed, and the smile spread. She watched him amble down the barn aisle toward her, especially hot in jeans and boots. Unshaven, looking more like an outlaw than a millionaire.
He met her midway, pulled her in for a hot kiss, and everything in her steadied with his arms around her. Or one arm, as it was at the moment. Curious, she eased back. “What do you have there?”
“Might be lunch.”
“Might be?”
Stephen pulled a small wicker basket from behind him.
“You packed a picnic?” She didn’t even try to hide her shock.
“Yeah, well, my mom might have helped a little.”
She cocked her head. “Are you trying to cheer me up?”
“
Am
I cheering you up?” He smiled down at her. “Because I don’t like to lose, so if it’s not working, then I’m just a guy looking to eat lunch with a beautiful woman.”
Hannah pulled his face down to hers and kissed him again. The warmth that had started with a smile slid down her spine and straight to her core when his tongue swirled around hers. Even more when the arm around her moved lower until his hand smoothed over her bottom. “I think it’s working,” she said against his lips.
“Good. I’ll get the horses. Why don’t you grab a blanket for our picnic? And other activities.”
Her heart skipped at the thought of the other activities he had in mind.
The land in this part of the country was mostly flat, but there were groves of trees to break up the landscape, and the grasses higher up in the fields swayed like untouched earth.
“Warm day,” he said.
“Mmm.” A warm May day, summer already trying to push spring aside. And both of them in jeans.
She glanced over. Lord, he was hot on a horse. Cowboy. Playboy. Warrior. CEO. Master of his domain. She could only shake her head.
“What?”
“Just thinking you look like a cowboy.”
“Is that a bad thing?’
“No. Though it could be kind of irritating for a girl. How you look good in anything.”
“Well.” Stephen’s hot gaze traveled over her. “You look good in nothing. And just so you know,” he added with a smile, “I don’t find that at all irritating.”
Okay. Now she was burning.
“I saw a spot on our last ride I wanted to take you on.”
She shot him a glance from her seat on Winnie.
“I mean
to
. A spot I wanted to take you
to.
”
She raised an eyebrow at his tone and innuendo, and he laughed. After that they were quiet, each taking in the scenery. The land dipped and they slowed, entering a string of trees lining a shallow creek. They stopped on a grassy bank under the canopy of shade.
“This is nice. Plenty of room to…lay out our picnic.”
“You’re in a mood.” Stephen only smiled.
“Mr. Ed had some new things to say to me this morning,” Stephen said as she dismounted and took the basket he’d been holding.
“Really? When did you talk to Mr. Ed?”
“When you went to get the blanket. It was quick.”
“Hmm. And what kind of things did you talk about?” She fixed the horses’ reins to the saddles while he spread the blanket.
“Secrets.”
“You’re keeping secrets with a horse? Interesting. I wonder what your business associates would think of that.”
He smiled, sly as a fox. “Oh, I don’t think they’ll find out.”
“They might,” she said, grinning right back.
“You talk to horses.”
“I
only
talk to horses, so it doesn’t matter what people think.”
“You talk to me.”
“Yes.” She gazed up at him, all joking aside. “I talk to you.” More than anyone, which made her equal parts warm and shaky inside. “So what did Mr. Ed say?”
“Take your clothes off.”
She gasped, feigning shock. “Mr. Ed would never say something like that.”
“I meant take off your clothes and maybe I’ll tell you.” He stalked toward her. “You know you’re hot.”
Her eyebrows shot up and she stepped back. “Am I?”
“You said you were.”
“I think you said it was hot and I agreed.”
He made a grab for her and she skipped away laughing.
“Come here.”
“No.” She skirted in and out of the trees along the bank while Stephen stalked her, playful, amused.
“Hannah.”
The deep rub of his voice when he said her name and the serious look in his eyes made her tremble. “What?”
“Take off your clothes.”
“It’s only two feet of water.”
“It’s not really about the swimming.” He’d stopped chasing and already had his socks and boots off.
“So this is another one of those guy tricks?”
He peeled off his shirt and all she could think was, it was a good trick. The sight of his chest made her fuzzy. His abs, his arms.
And distracted as she was, he shot out a hand and yanked her flush against him. “Take them off or get them wet.”
“You’re serious.”
“I’m very serious.” He dropped his jeans. “I want you. Out here. In the sunlight.” He let her go and waited.
Slowly, never taking her eyes from his, she pulled her shirt up by the hem, revealing her stomach and every mark on it. Was there anything she wouldn’t do for him? With him?
“Keep going.”
His eyes, so deep and brown, roamed every inch of her newly exposed body. What did he see when he looked at her?
“All of it.”
When she was in only her panties he lunged, wrapped thick arms around her bare thighs, and lifted her off her feet. She squealed and clung to his wide shoulders. He hooted and laughed when he hit the water.
“I told you it was cold.” But his lips were soft and warm when they found hers. His cheeks rough against her palms when she took his face in her hands.
She pulled her legs up and around his waist as he walked them deeper beyond the shady trees. He groaned, caught the hair at her nape and pulled, covering her mouth with his. It was a slow, lazy kiss, a pouring out of emotion that made her ache for more. With their lips still joined, he carried her out of the water. He let her slide down his body, her bare nipples rasping against his chest as she went. When her toes were inches from the ground, she dropped kisses over the flexing muscles in front of her. Circled her tongue around his flat nipples and trace the pattern of hair between.
He moaned, caught her mouth and kissed her until she couldn’t stand. He laid her down on the blanket he’d spread. The ground was cool against her back, Stephen hot above her. He slid his fingers into her hair, framing her face and she couldn’t breathe. Stephen looked at her and she trembled. He touched her and her breath caught.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Only for you.”
“No, baby.” He feathered his lips along her cheeks, her mouth, the curve of her shoulder. “Always.”
He continued the onslaught, down her body and back, making her burn. Until he had her moaning with pleasure and squirming beneath him. He came back to her lips, met her eyes and held until she was shaking inside. “What…what did Mr. Ed tell you?”
“Mr. Ed told me,” Stephen kissed his way to just below her ear. “That you like me. He said…”—Stephen pulled back until their eyes met—“that you might even love me.”
Her heart was suddenly too big for her chest. Because she did. She loved him. She’d been half in love with him before their first kiss, and more than anything, she wanted him to love her too.
Stephen stared down at Hannah, so small beneath him, so naturally beautiful, her hair spread out like a halo. Lying there in the sunlight. Open to him, trusting him. Exposed. Not just her body, but her heart. And his own stopped and stuttered at what he’d just said.
He’d practically asked her if she loved him. Why? Because, even if he didn’t know his own feelings, he was desperate to know hers? So he could run or…not run?
He didn’t know what to say. What he should or even could say. So he crushed his mouth over hers, desperate to pour out everything he felt and couldn’t say. He took in the rapid rise and fall of her chest, her pulse thundering under his lips at her throat.
He saw the undisguised emotion when he filled her in one deep stroke. Felt it himself. Everything about being with her was so fucking perfect, so right, he was raw with it.
Her eyes started to glaze and her lids fluttered. “Don’t close your eyes.”
And with her eyes locked with his, he claimed her and she let him, holding nothing back. Giving everything. She arched against him, fingers in his hair, heels digging into the back of his thighs.
He kissed her gently, then watched her face when she came around him. Still so innocent of her own pleasure, her own desires. But even innocent, she tore him apart. The way her eyes looked deep into his. The way she sighed his name. Like he was the only one.
Her
only one.
He buried his face in her neck, drove one last time, and came so hard he thought he must be leaving a part of himself inside her.
His heart. More likely his very soul.
Stephen followed the long, winding drive through Pleasant View Cemetery. Long oaks stretched across, offering shade and companionship to those who came to sit beside their loved ones.
A squirrel darted out and he slammed on his brakes, sending the flowers on the seat next to him crashing to the floorboard. He retrieved them, twelve red roses wrapped in plastic. His usual offering.
A part of him had thought to send Hannah flowers. But since today was the fifth anniversary of his fiancée’s death, another part of him spoke louder. The part that said he should feel guilty. And he did. For his time with Hannah, because he didn’t regret it, and even more, for not wanting to come today. It hurt to come here, but wasn’t it supposed to?
He pulled over to the edge, parked, and got out. There were more dirt mounds every year. More tombstones. More flowers. He treaded lightly on the grass between them, passing names that had become as familiar to him as his own.
He didn’t come so much anymore, but there’d been a time he’d come every day, sometimes more than once. Sometimes he’d stayed all night, more at home with the dead than the living. They seemed to understand him, didn’t ask for more than he could give. Sleeping. Silent. Echoing how he felt inside. Or how he used to feel, before a chance meeting at a grocery store.
And the guilt crept in like dark mist.
He walked a little farther, up a gentle rise, and found the one he’d come to see. He stared at the letters carved into gray stone that spelled out her name and the short time she’d spent in this world.
Over the years, coming here had become more and more about nursing his anger and less about being close to her. He didn’t feel her here. Feared she was beginning to fade altogether. What did it say about him that her killers’ faces were still burned into his brain in high resolution?
He remembered his fiancée as a happy-go-lucky girl. They’d both been like that. The golden couple, never thought a bad thing could happen. So different from Hannah, the bright sunny girl he’d fallen for who knew exactly how bad people could be.
He leaned the forgotten bouquet against the stone, wondering if he should apologize for wanting to live again. For not wanting to be that man anymore that her death had left behind. Stephen dropped his chin to his chest, suddenly so weary he could barely stand under the weight of his own hatred. Maybe that was the problem. He’d never been able to separate the two. His rage and his grief. His love for Tracy and his hatred for her killers.
He’d nursed it until his fury was a living, breathing thing, so much a part of him he was afraid of what might happen if he let it go. For too long it had been the only thing to keep him from crumpling into a pile of dust.
The flowers slid onto their side and the cellophane flapped in the breeze. All this time, he thought he’d been healing, keeping himself contained and controlled. But he hadn’t been. Not until Hannah. The very one he’d feared would drag him back to a time when he most hated himself had slowly pulled him into her light.
And he wanted to stay there.
Hannah held the phone against her ear as she wiped off the counter and talked to Mia on the other end. She’d called to check in, since they hadn’t gotten a chance to talk yesterday. “How are things with Stephen?” Mia asked.
Ah. And now she figured they were getting to the real reason for the call. But she didn’t mind. It reminded her of a time long ago, when Mia had been more like a big sister. “Good. He actually left a little while ago, but he’s coming back with dinner.” He had an international conference call and was bringing takeout after. She peeked at the brownies in the oven and smiled, thinking how Stephen liked to describe the wicked things they could do with chocolate.
“I haven’t talked to you alone since your trip.” Mia paused and Hannah could practically feel the give-me-details raised eyebrow.
“It was good.”
“And?”
“And it was really good. We…well…you know.”
“Yes. I know. I would ask how that went, but by the sound of your voice and the look on your face yesterday, I take it it was good.”
“Better than good.” Hannah pulled the brownies from the oven. She liked them slightly gooey in the center. So did Stephen. Whom she’d expected by now. She brushed the curtains aside and realized there’d been a long pause. “Mia?”
“That’s wonderful, Hannah. Really. I’m so happy for you. Proud of you.”
“But?”
“We’re friends, aren’t we? In addition to being patient, doctor?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. I’m speaking as a friend here, since you never had a mother to tell you these things. Not that I’m the only person you could talk to, but…I just want to say…it’s a big step, and it’s all moved pretty fast. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but this is your first relationship.”
First man she’d kissed. First man to see her scars. First man she’d slept with. Lots of firsts. And onlys. “And girls tend to fall in love with their first. I know.” It was hard to tell if this new pain in her chest was love or her fear that Stephen might not love her back.
“I’m not saying any of it’s wrong. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Neither did she. She’d seen Mia and Stephen talking yesterday, hadn’t thought anything of it. Now she did. “Do you think I will? Did Stephen say something to you?”
“Nothing, honey. Just…be careful.”
Hannah checked out the window again and an odd light flickered through the trees. She felt a surge of relief at seeing Stephen’s headlights and stepped outside, thinking to end the call. The light danced. “What the— Oh my, God. The barn. It’s on fire.”