It’s nineteen degrees, and I’m fucking sweating. I lift Tiernan into my arms, her arms and legs wrapping around me as I walk us up the steps of the house, our lips locked together, kissing as we make our way for the door.
“Don’t fall,” she murmurs between kisses.
“I’m not gonna fall.”
Just then I slam my shin into a chair on the deck and stumble, grunting.
Fuck.
We tighten our arms around each other, but she laughs quietly anyway.
Her jeans are still open, her shirt barely buttoned, and mine’s not buttoned at all. It’s too fucking hot right now. We get to the door, and I heft her up higher, looking up into her eyes. “You feeling bad about any of this yet?”
I don’t mean physically, just… I don’t know.
I’m too old. She’s too young. This was a mistake.
But I know damn well I’d make it again given half the chance. It hasn’t been that good for me in a long time.
She touches my face, her eyes gentle. “No,” she finally replies. “I’m glad it was you.”
I stare up at her.
She leans in, and I close my eyes as she kisses my forehead, my cheek, and then my mouth. “Anyone else wouldn’t have made it so perfect,” she tells me. “You were gentle and slow and you made it feel good.” She tips her forehead to mine. “I’m glad it was you.”
My throat tightens, and I grab the back of her neck and bring her in, kissing her. I still feel guilty, but… at least she doesn’t, and I can only be grateful for now.
And part of what she says eases my nerves a bit. Assholes like Holcomb wouldn’t have cared to make sure she enjoyed it or someone her age wouldn’t have had much experience to know how to make sure she enjoyed it. I certainly didn’t at eighteen. At least I could give her that.
But was it special?
Her sweet mouth and taste and the heat between her legs warming my stomach washes over me, and I tighten my hold, feeling fucking high and wanting to smile for the first time in forever. She feels like…
Like Flora did.
Except with Tiernan, it feels easier somehow. Like I might not hurt her. She’s strong.
“This can’t happen again, though,” I tell her.
She nods, amusement in her eyes as she looks down at me. “Okay.”
But her tone is too compliant. Like she doesn’t believe me.
“I mean it,” I snip. “You’re going to college. Don’t think about falling in love with me.”
“I won’t.”
She’s not taking me seriously.
“We released some pent-up frustration, and hopefully I gave you a worthy coming-of-age experience,” I say. “But that’s it. It stops now.”
“Gotcha.”
Bitch.
I paw for the door handle and lower her to her feet, both of us trying to hold back our smiles. She knows she has months of cold, lonely nights to ambush me with her beautiful body.
“You got any more of those thigh-high socks?” I ask, throwing open the door.
“What do you care?” she teases.
I chuckle, both of us stepping into the house, but we see the boys sitting in the living room ahead, immediately with turned heads and eyes on us. Our laughter quiets, and we both stop, meeting their gazes.
Noah’s eyes trail up and down me, and I realize again that my shirt is open, and her hair looks like it was caught in a hurricane.
Shit. My smile falls.
Kaleb sits in the chair by the fire, his eyes turned toward us, while Noah watches us over his shoulder, a sound like shuffling cards hitting me, but I can’t see what’s in his hands.
Tiernan stiffens, looking up at me.
“Why don’t you go on to bed?” I mumble to her.
She nods, throws a glance in the boys’ direction, and heads up the stairs, holding her shirt closed.
Without meeting the boys’ eyes again, I whip off my shirt and head through the kitchen and into the shop, hearing them rise from their seats and follow me.
Turning on the faucet to the sink, I stick my head under the cold water, my muscles and nerves relishing and relaxing under the icy bath.
The water pours over my hair and cascades over my neck, and I swipe a quick drink before I turn it off and grab the towel off the dryer.
I see Kaleb still on the stairs, leaning against the wall, while Noah stands close, watching me.
“I fucked up,” I say, drying off my face and neck.
What the hell is she going to think about all this in twenty years?
“I know I fucked up.”
Noah stands there like a wall, still as stone, but then he lashes out. He throws his arm, swiping everything off the top of the dryer.
Containers and a laundry basket crash to the floor, and he picks up a paint bucket and heaves it at the garage door. It bangs and hits the floor, teetering for a few seconds before it stops moving.
He breathes hard. “And if I want her, too?”
“You don’t want her.” I shake my head, tossing the towel. “You’re latching onto anything that will hold you here.”
“And you? You’re not going to marry her and keep her up here. Have babies and all that shit,” he barks. “She’s leaving in the spring. Going to college and moving on with her life. I might leave with her.”
I flex my jaw and step up to him, his eyes just a hair below mine. “I’m not sharing a woman with my sons.”
“How convenient,” he spits back. “After you took her away from us the other night. We had her first.”
“No, you didn’t. The night of the last race when you both were upstairs with who-knows-who? We were down here in the kitchen. I had to…” I look away, shame warming my skin. “It didn’t go far, but something started that night.”
“Kaleb had already been on her out here the night when he came home from the cabin weeks ago,” Noah retorts.
What? I shoot my eyes up to Kaleb, his gaze slowly rising to meet mine.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“But you got her cherry, so…” Noah adds snidely.
I look at him hard. I know he’s right. They’d be a lot more suited to her than I would.
But…
“I like her,” Noah says, his voice unusually gentle. “‘There are times when I just want to be close to her.”
I meet his eyes.
“I’m not going to stop myself, unless she stops me,” he warns me.
And what am I supposed to say? ‘She’s mine. Back off. You can’t take her, because… why?’ Why can’t he have her?
I’m not claiming her. She’ll leave, and this will end, because it has to. I’m not taking her life from her and saddling her here.
I shouldn’t have touched her.
Slowly, I start to nod. “Just act right,” I tell him. “She’s free to make her choices. You act right.”
A smile curls his lips, and he backs away, Kaleb and him disappearing back into the house.
It’s only right, right? I didn’t have any business fucking with her in the first place. I don’t want her to think I don’t want her, but I don’t want her getting attached, either. It’s better to stop it sooner, rather than later.
I kick off my boots and head into the house, grabbing a beer from the fridge as the boys watch TV as I pass by, catching Kaleb’s eyes as I climb the stairs, him holding my gaze a lot longer than he ever does. The nice thing about my oldest is his anger is never verbal. The bad thing is it usually ends up in him disappearing into the mountains for weeks on end. I’ll need to talk to him tomorrow. I don’t like it when he goes in the snow, but he’s always stupid enough to do exactly what he wants anyway.
Neither of my kids have ever wanted to stay with me, and after tonight, I wouldn’t blame them for hating me. They’re not going to marry her or fall in love, either, but I had no right.
I take a swig of my beer, heading to my room and seeing Tiernan’s door closed, no light coming from under the door. She got in bed quick. She didn’t hear our conversation, did she?
I strip off my clothes in the bedroom and pull on some flannel pants, washing up and brushing my teeth.
I should take a shower. I like the smell of her on my body, though.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I try to walk for my bed. I’m tired, and tomorrow will be another long day of custom work, chores, and repairs to get ready for the next storm, whenever it hits.
But I don’t go to my bed. Opening my bedroom door, I head across the hall to hers, and I knock. I just want to make sure she’s alright. If she’s crying, I’ll fucking kill myself.
“Come in,” she calls.
My heart starts pumping harder. I open the door.
The room is dark, lit only by the soft glow of the space heater, and I lean against the doorframe and find her in bed.
She sits up, the blanket falling to her waist as she looks over at me.
I trail my eyes down her little white half shirt, my mouth going suddenly dry at the glimpse of her panties peeking out of the sheet.
“Showered?” I ask.
She nods.
I can’t see her eyes very well, but when she straightens her spine, stretching out her body and drawing my eyes to her bare stomach, I feel my arms ache with the emptiness.
“Hungry?” I fight to keep my tone level.
She shakes her head.
I take a swig of the beer, looking at her.
“Warm enough?”
She cocks her head playfully. And she shakes it again.
I smile to myself, even through the sinking in my stomach.
I really wish I could’ve surprised myself and been stronger. I wish I wasn’t such a lousy piece of shit.
She climbs out of bed and walks over to me, taking the bottle out of my hand and wrapping her arms around my neck so I can lift her up.
Her legs circle me like a belt, and I grip her ass.
“Wanna come into my bed tonight?”
She buries her face in my neck and holds me tight, her breath and body warm and wanting on my skin.
God, this feels good.
And I carry her into my bedroom, slamming the door and hiding us away.
This will end.
Just not tonight.
