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“Good,” she said, the single word all she could manage with the sensations sweeping through her.
“I don’t think I can be gentle.”
It was an even fiercer growl, and it thrilled her. She let out a joyous laugh she barely recognized as her own. “Good,” she repeated, and this time she kissed him, ardently, letting everything she was feeling flow through it.
They fed off each other’s fierceness, and Sydney was barely aware of how they made it to the bed. She was more aware of shedding clothes, mainly because she was so desperate to feel him, see him. And when she did, when he was naked in her arms and she could feel the powerful muscles beneath skin so sleek her fingers wanted to stroke it endlessly, she nearly forgot how to breathe.
He touched her in turn, and the slight shiver in his hands as he cupped her breasts, this little sign of a strong man on the edge, sent heat racing through her until it pooled somewhere low and deep and new. When he stroked her nipples with tough, strong fingers a low moan escaped her. When he replaced his fingers with his mouth and flicked the sensitive nubs one after the other with his tongue, she cried out, unable to stop herself.
She stroked her fingers over his shoulders and down his back, savoring the feel of him, wanting him closer, ever closer. And then he moved one hand down over her body, finding that low, deep, new place and stroking her there. She felt her own slick readiness in the way his finger slid over her flesh.
When she slid her hand around between them, and curled her fingers around the thick column of his erection he swore, rough and heartfelt. “Warned you,” he muttered.
“Impatient,” she countered.
And then he was driving forward, into her, in a fierce plunge that made her cry out with the shocking pleasure of it. He seemed to hesitate and she practically clawed at him, desperate for him to continue. He buried himself in her, filling her, stretching her, and she cried out again at the incredible feeling of him inside her.
He swore again, but reverently this time, his voice full of the same kind of awe she was feeling. He moved, rhythmically, stroking her from within as his mouth moved over her breasts again, suckling even as his steady thrusts drove her mindless.
And then, faster than she would have ever thought possible, she shattered, her entire body clenching around him. In the next instant she heard him groan her name, low and harsh, and felt the pulse of him inside her. They both collapsed, spent. Sydney lay still, relishing the feel of his weight atop her, feeling not trapped or pinned but replete, joyous…and safe.
And when he made as if to move, she whispered, “Stay,” and held him in place. He put his head down beside hers on the pillow, and softly kissed her ear, then her neck. The gentleman was back, but she knew she would never, ever forget the joy of discovering the fierce lover he could become.
The lover she wanted forever.
For the first time in her life Sydney Brock felt complete.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The first morning back at the ranch had its moments.
When they came into the kitchen they found Cody yawning over the coffeemaker. He glanced up at them, and Keller didn’t even care if it was obvious what they’d been doing. It was time his little brother got over whatever snit he’d been in since the day Sydney had turned up on their doorstep.
“You moving in?” he asked sleepily, running a hand over the tousled blond hair he’d inherited from their mother.
Clearly it was aimed at Sydney, and Keller wondered if he should be thankful at least his brother was talking directly to her, instead of rudely asking him.
“Problem?” Sydney asked, her brows arched in warning.
Cody’s gaze flicked to Keller. He stood at Sydney’s back, and from the look that flickered in his brother’s eyes he knew the significance of that position wasn’t lost on him. For a moment, just a moment, Cody looked oddly sad. He thought of his mother’s words, that Cody had known Sydney meant everything was going to change. He’d only been nine when his life had changed forever the first time. And suddenly his urge to punch out his little brother faded away.
“Not all change is bad, bro,” he said quietly.
The startled look he got from those eyes that were, like his own, a copy of their father’s, told him Mom’s guess had been right. As usual. And he saw Cody’s expression change, shift to one of acceptance.
And then Cody looked back at Sydney. And nodded. “Glad you’re here,” he said gruffly. “Now at least we’ll have somebody to set up the coffee every day of the week.”
“Glad to be of use,” Sydney countered, her words wry but her smile wide and genuine.
As peace declarations went, Keller supposed it wasn’t much, but it would do.
*
A couple of Sundays later, they rounded up Lucas for a ride. The three of them headed out companionably; the boy seemed to have accepted Sydney’s presence easily. Lucas led the way, and Keller saw the boy spot the crown of the Lacey oak, and adjust his path accordingly.
Keller had the strangest feeling as the three of them stood at the overlook. A sense of rightness, a sense of finality, a sense of…peace. But, in a way he couldn’t explain, it felt as much outside him as within. If he were given to flights of fancy, he would have said it had come, here in this particular spot his father had loved, from him. His mother had always said she felt closest to him here, so maybe it was just that, rubbing off.
Or maybe not. Maybe it was simply that he’d found his own connection, one like his parents had had. These past days, with Sydney not simply at the ranch but in his life—and in his bed at night—had been…indescribable. His mother was delighted. And he was so happy himself he didn’t even care about the sideways looks his brothers gave him, because their grins were tinged with both envy and appreciation, and each of them had managed to say, in their own way, that they were glad for him. Even Cody.
The lunch Sydney and his mother had packed for them was consumed completely, Lucas especially gobbling his share and a bit more that Sydney declared herself too full to eat. His mom had said the boy was probably heading into a growth spurt, given how much he’d been eating the last couple of weeks.
“Look,” Lucas said now, pointing to his right, toward the Lacey oak. “Those weren’t here last time we were here.”
“They’re beautiful,” Sydney said, looking at the plant covered in light blue flowers sprawling next to the sturdy tree.
“Plumbago. Mom’s favorites, after the bluebonnets.”
“They’re the color of her eyes,” Sydney said.
“Hey, yeah, they are,” Lucas said. “Can we take her some?”
Keller felt another surge of emotion, something that had happened more and more since that day at the inn. It was as if Sydney had somehow breached a dam inside him, one that he hadn’t even realized was there.
“Sure,” he said when he thought he could speak without his voice cracking as if he was a teenager like Lucas. “They’ll last better if you cut them, though. I’ll get my knife.”
“I’ll get it,” Sydney, who was closest to Blue, said. She got to her feet and turned to his saddle, reaching for the knife sheath.
“Careful, it’s really sharp,” Keller cautioned.
“I assumed,” she said coolly as she pulled the blade free. Then, to his shock, in one smooth motion she seemed to merely flip it casually, and yet it flew straight, level, and true, and embedded itself in the grayish bark of the oak tree’s trunk.
Lucas let out a word Keller normally would have called him on, but he was too stunned.
“Not the best throwing knife, but a good blade,” she said as if assessing her toss. She looked back at Keller. “Looks military.”
“I…” He gave a shake of his head. “It was my father’s. Where the hell did you learn to do that?”
“Around. Wherever I could find someone to show me their special techniques. There was a woman in Argentina I’ll tell you about sometime. Lucas, you want to cut those flowers?”
T
he boy ran over and tugged the knife free—it took him two yanks and he gave Sydney an awed look—then went about his task.
Keller was still staring at her. “Why?” he asked.
“A woman alone,” she said simply. “And less hassle than a firearm in many places.”
They sat back down on the blanket he’d spread, and Keller tried not to think about what they might be doing if they weren’t being chaperoned by her young cousin.
“So in all your travels, you never found anyplace you wanted to stay forever?”
“Not until now,” she said softly, and his chest knotted up a little.
“You’re sure? I saw you looking at that travel magazine at the coffee shop. I thought maybe…”
“I was getting restless?”
“Yes.”
“No,” she retorted. “In fact, I was kind of marveling at the fact that I’m not in the least restless. That I’m feeling…like I’m home at last.”
He watched her as she glanced over at Lucas, and he couldn’t help wondering if she was having the same thoughts about how this would be a different outing if the boy weren’t along. Then she looked back at him.
“Sorry about the tree.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“I figured it was probably as tough as Texas. Tougher than me, anyway.”
Keller moved then, grabbing her shoulders and turning her to face him. “You’re as tough as that oak tree. You took a hellish life and built it into something wonderful. That’s the kind of tough it takes to be a Texan.”
She looked up at him, her golden eyes warm but worried. “Thank you. But…I can’t be your kind of normal, because I didn’t grow up like you did. I’m afraid you’ll give up on me.”
He wanted to kiss the doubts out of those eyes, out of her heart. Instead he said determinedly, “When I was seventeen, I had to give up on a lot of goals. I had no choice then. Now I do. So I may change tactics, but not the goal.”
It was a moment before she said, in a voice full of taut emotion, “I seem to have achieved my three most important goals at once.”
“Three?”
“Finding Lucas. Finding a place I want to stay forever. And most of all finding the man who makes it all worth it.”
For a moment Keller couldn’t think of a damned thing to say. Finally, barely, he managed two words. “Welcome home.”
The look in her eyes then made his chest tight all over again, and he lowered his head, his gaze fastened on those soft, warm lips.
“You two gonna start kissing again?” Lucas asked sourly as he came up holding a slightly lopsided bouquet of the flowers.
Keller lifted his head and looked at him. “Yes. That a problem?”
The boy sighed audibly. “I guess not.” He looked at them with a touch of curiosity. “My folks used to kiss a lot.”
“Then that should prove it’s a good thing,” Sydney said.
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Lucas walked over to Pecos and tied the stems to his saddle with one of the front latigos.
And now that they had official permission, the kissing began.
Back at the ranch, Sydney said something about needing to check in. He’d set up a desk for her in the sitting area of his quarters, and promised she’d have the good Wi-Fi she needed, that Cody would see to it. She’d given him a sideways look, and he’d sensed she was still wary of his little brother.
The memory reminded him of something. A bit too casually, he said, “Cody does the books for Chance. He set them up for him, once Chance realized he needed to organize.”
She blinked at the seeming non sequitur. “I’m not surprised he has the knack, from what you’ve said.”
“He’s also very good at tracking stuff down. Internet stuff. Backtracking connections. Even donations.”
Faint color came into her cheeks. “Oh.”
“Were you ever going to say anything?”
“Probably not. Not after he suspected me of…ulterior motives. When my only real motive is that he’s doing a wonderful thing with the dogs, and I wanted to support it.”
“A donation that size will keep those mutts in dog food for a year.”
“Good.”
He studied her for a moment. “Have you ever wondered if I had an ulterior motive?”
She frowned. “You?”
“Ranching’s a tough business, a lot of hard work. We’re doing okay, but we’re not getting rich. So maybe I want a rich girlfriend I can get money from.”
She let out an inelegant snort of laughter. “You? As if you would even ask. You’re the straightest arrow—or blade—I’ve ever met, Keller Rafferty. You’d never—” She stopped suddenly. And her expression was suddenly serious. “Is that what I am? Like…officially?”
“For now,” he said softly. He saw doubt in her eyes at his words, words that could be interpreted in more than one way. He realized everything in her life up until now had been…temporary. So he added, matter-of-factly, “But later, when you’re sure, I think we should formally adopt Lucas. Oh, and we’ll need a prenup, Ms. Bucks-Up.”
She blinked. The smile that spread across her face then was like the sunrise over his beloved Hill Country. “No,” she said. “We won’t need that. Because I know you, Keller. I know you, and I love you.”
His heart full, he reached out and cupped her face. “I love you, too. Honey.”
He saw her remember that first day, and her fierce exclamation. Don’t call me honey unless you mean it. He let every bit of how much he meant it show in his expression. Saw it register, and the smile she gave him then put that sunrise he’d just thought of to shame. And his voice was more than a little thick when he spoke again.
“So…shall we go tell Lucas he’s gained more than a cousin?”
“Yes.” She stretched up and kissed him. “And maybe after that we can ride back out to that place of yours and…have another picnic.”
There was no mistaking the heat in those amber eyes. “With a different menu?” he suggested.
“As long as it has my favorite things to nibble on.”
“Me, I want the entire banquet,” he said, his voice suddenly rough. “With a permanent seat at the table.”
“That,” Sydney said with that hot little smile that turned his insides upside down, “can be arranged.”
And he lowered his mouth to hers to begin the first course.
The End
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The Raffertys of Last Stand series
Book 1: Nothing But Cowboy
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Book 2: A Texas Christmas Miracle
Coming October 2021
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Book 2: Whiskey River Runaway
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About the Author
Author of more than 70 books, (she sold her first ten in less than two years) Justine Davis is a five time winner of the coveted RWA RITA Award, including for being inducted into the RWA Hall of Fame. A fifteen time nominee for RT Book Review awards, she has won four times, received three of their lifetime achievement awards, and had four titles on the magazine’s 200 Best of all Time list. Her books have appeared on national best seller lists, including USA Today. She has been featured on CNN, taught at several national and international conferences, and at the UCLA writer’s program.
After years of working in law enforcement, and more years doing both, Justine now writes full time. She lives near beautiful Puget Sound in Washington State, peacefully coexisting with deer, bears, a pair of bald eagles, a tailless raccoon, and her beloved ’67 Corvette roadster. When she’s not writing, taking photographs, or driving said roadster (and yes, it goes very fast) she tends to her knitting. Literally.
Visit Justine at her website JustineDavis.com
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