Chapter Seven
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Two days later, Hunter watched in satisfaction as a truck pulled in behind the house right on time.
“There’s your trailer,” he told Jo, who was slicing an apple.
“That looks really small,” Jo said with a frown. She finished cutting up the pieces of fruit and tucked them into a container for later, joining him at the window.
“It is really small. It’s supposed to be temporary, remember?”
She nodded, but she didn’t look particularly impressed. He hoped that would change when they built her house.
He and Jo had discussed her plans at length these past few nights and he’d been confident enough to place an order for materials this morning. He’d been right; alone out in the stables, it was easier for them to talk about the places where their plans had diverged and come to common ground. Jo had told him about the materials she wanted to use inside, and Hunter had to admit he hadn’t thought much about them, except the wooden built-ins, so he was easy to lead on those.
It surprised him how good it felt to think about building a home to please her. Generally, he was a man who liked to do things his own way, because he thought things through far more carefully than most people did, but Jo thought things through, too. And when she spoke about the little house, she lit up.
He liked that.
Outside, they greeted Norton Dale, who’d brought the trailer. He was all too happy to unload it. “Got it for my nephew when I was in Colorado,” Norton said when he got out of his truck and hitched up his jeans under a substantial beer belly. “He was all hot to build a little cabin in back of his folks’ place, then he met a girl and next thing we knew he hightailed it to Virginia.”
“Kids,” Hunter said, as if he knew anything about it.
“Hope you folks make better use of it than we did.”
“We will,” Hunter assured him. He paced around the trailer and made sure it was in good shape. “Looks pristine.”
“Like I said, just got it and the kid took off!”
Jo looked to be biting back a smile, and Hunter was glad to see that flash of humor. He thought Jo was far too serious for the most part. Building a house might be just what the doctor ordered. There hadn’t been a repeat of trouble these past few nights, and he was beginning to think that the incident with Bright Star was caused by kids on a joy ride rather than a restart of the difficulties with the drug dealers from Tennessee.
Alone together in the stables each night, they’d talked for hours, swapping stories of their childhoods and their hopes and dreams for the future. Several times they’d held hands. Once or twice they’d kissed. He was having a hard time keeping his libido in check.
Hunter didn’t haggle over the price with Norton. He paid in full, glad to put his hands on a trailer so quickly that fit the bill for what they wanted.
“Now what?” Jo asked as they watched Norton—much happier now he had a fistful of dollars—drive away.
“Now we level the ground, move the trailer into place and brace it. As soon as those materials get delivered we’ll get started.”
The process of picking a site, leveling the ground, moving the trailer into place and making sure it couldn’t roll took longer than Hunter had anticipated, but he didn’t mind. It gave him time to work with Jo and see how she reacted to adversity and pressure. Jo was so excited about her house she wasn’t thrown at all by the setbacks.
As for him, he found it easier to work with Jo than with most men he had worked with in the past. She was quicker to see what he was after. Quicker to jump in to help—or to figure out the problem for herself.
Once they’d leveled the ground, tugged the trailer into place and braced it, Hunter wanted to make sure the frame was level, too, but before he could even issue the order, Jo had already knelt in the dirt to put the level on the metal frame of the trailer.
“Looks good here.” She glanced up. “What?”
“Could have used you on a few missions. It’s like you can read my mind.”
“Maybe I can.” She stood up, still holding on to the level.
“I thought that was Alice’s trick. You’re supposed to read emotions.”
Jo shrugged and moved to another position, placing the level on the frame again. “It’s good here, too.”
“What am I thinking right now?” Hunter knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn’t help it. Jo was so damn cute in her slim jeans, fitted T-shirt and the baseball cap she wore to keep the sun out of her eyes.
She eyed him again, moved closer to him and touched his wrist, but instead of speaking she simply shook her head. “I’m not going to repeat what you’re thinking.”
When she went to move away again, Hunter caught her, cupped her chin in both hands, tilted it up. Brushed his lips over hers once, twice.
“What was that for?” she asked when he reluctantly pulled away.
“Because I wanted to.”
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend back home?” Jo moved away and tested another portion of the frame. “Level, here.”
“Never found the right woman.” But thinking of home made him think of Marlon.
Who hadn’t called today, Hunter realized with a start. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked. Nope. No calls at all.
“Something wrong?” Jo asked, looking a little miffed that his attention had wandered.
“Yeah—no. Hold on a sec.” Their agreement was that Marlon would initiate the calls, and he had never failed to check in by their agreed-upon time, but he was late, so Hunter would do the dialing. Hunter’s pulse kicked up and he paced while he waited for the call to go through. His friend knew what Hunter had given up to cover for him. There was no way Marlon would go against his word.
Even if he’d made it clear he resented the intrusions into his life.
He got no answer. Hunter cut the call, then tried it again. “Get back to me as soon as you get this message,” he told his friend when voice mail kicked on.
“Marlon hasn’t called,” he answered Jo’s inquisitive look. “I was supposed to hear from him today.”
“And you’re worried?”
“He’s going through a hard time—a real hard time. His marriage is falling apart. But that’s no excuse. You’ve had a hard time, too, and you don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment.”
Jo frowned. “Hard time?” She set the level on the frame again, only inches from the last place she’d tested.
“That gunfight you were in—”
“God, not you, too.” She raised her hands in defeat. “I’m not made of spun glass, okay? I’m fine.”
“It’s not like you kill someone every day, though.” He was provoking her, but he thought she might need to talk about it. Besides, he needed to think about something other than Marlon. He wanted to keep calling until he got an answer, but his friend had made it clear how much he resented Hunter’s interference in his life. So he wouldn’t interfere—for now. He’d give Marlon a little time. Meanwhile, he’d focus on Jo. Was she holding in her fear and sorrow? That wasn’t good.
“A man who tried to kidnap me, kill my dogs, kill my sisters!” She lifted her hands again. “Jesus, if someone came after you and pointed a gun to your head, what would you do?”
“Kill him.”
“And would you need rest and counseling?”
“I—”
“No, because you’re a man, and men make tough decisions, but we women are supposed to roll over and die the minute things get hard—”
“I’m on your side, here,” Hunter protested.
“Really? Here’s the thing: I knew it was the right thing to do. When I was doing it,” she added. “I didn’t have to think about it. And afterward, I wasn’t afraid I’d made a mistake. But everyone’s acting like that’s how I should feel. Honestly? That’s driving me crazy. I can’t manufacture something that isn’t real.”
He understood what she was saying; sometimes reactions took over and events played out the way they were meant to whether you thought about them or not.
“There are moments like that in any skirmish,” he told her. “Moments where there’s only one way out.” He’d experienced too many of those and wished Jo hadn’t experienced any, but there he was, thinking she was more fragile than him again.
“It’s like I could see it—what I’d do, what he’d do—” Her gaze grew distant, and he knew she’d traveled back to that day. He traveled back to the tough times, too, when he wasn’t careful to block those kinds of thoughts.
“The moment steps out of time,” he agreed. “And the path becomes clear. I’ve experienced that.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He held her gaze, wanting her to know he was there with her, and would continue to be so. That was something the men he’d served with had always done for each other: witnessed the memories—good and bad.
“Does it make me a monster that I don’t have any regrets?” Jo asked softly.
“That makes you a warrior.”
Her lips parted. He saw relief and something else in her eyes. Hunter waited, knowing there was something else she needed to say.
“Kiss me.”
Jo held her breath. She’d just given the hardened fighter standing in front of her an order.
Would he obey?
Hunter took a step closer. Slid a hand to the base of her neck. Bent down and kissed her thoroughly. When he pulled back, she followed him, wanting more, and he must have understood.
Jo melted against him as he swept her close in his arms, and she closed her eyes, the better to feel the soft pressure of his mouth on hers again. But even as she did his kiss grew more insistent. She’d been holding back for days—and nights. Spending time with him, working with him, talking to him. Sleeping in the stables with him—no one else to witness what they did.
With each passing day, the ache in her had increased. She craved his touch.
Craved him.
No one had ever understood her the way he just made it clear he did. No one had validated her feelings so completely as he had with those five small words: that makes you a warrior.
He hadn’t tried to brush away what she’d done, or diminish it, or pretend it hadn’t happened. He’d stood witness to her feelings and had lifted her up instead of tearing her down.
Jo had no idea how much she’d needed that kind of validation. Nor had she realized how strong her instinct was to find the kind of man who could see her that way.
It was as if some small part of her that still believed in love was fighting for its life. Every time she told herself it was crazy to trust another man, Hunter did something that knocked her socks off.
Now she had to choose. Back off from men permanently—or take a chance.
If she was wise, she’d back off, Jo cautioned herself. Hadn’t she seen what men were capable of?
Jo guessed she was still too young for wisdom to have taken hold in her.
As she opened her mouth to allow Hunter’s tongue in, a hunger caught fire inside her—a need to get him even closer. A desire to throw her worries to the wind and submit herself to fate one more time.
Not here, though. Not in plain view of the house.
Where?
She pulled back and her gaze swept their surroundings, taking in Sadie’s garden, which was too exposed; her greenhouse, which felt like trespassing; Alice’s carriage house studio—
Certainly not there.
The maze.
She hadn’t taken Hunter to see the maze yet. And he’d been here nearly two weeks. Had anyone else lasted so long on the property without a tour of it?
She grabbed his hand, determined to rectify the oversight. “Come on.”
He allowed her to tug him toward the maze. Together they crossed Sadie’s garden to its entrance, and then they were inside its tall green walls.
“I’ve never been in one of these,” Hunter said.
“Shut up and kiss me again.” Jo bit her lip. Had she really just said that?
Hunter looked about as surprised as she felt. Then he laughed, pulled her close and obliged. “Like that?”
“Just like that.” She was so grateful he was playing along. Loved the feel of his strong arms around her. The hard planes of his body turned her on, made her want to touch him. Taste him.
Glancing up she caught an expression on his face that made her breath catch. It wasn’t lust, although she felt that thrumming through every fiber of his body.
It was… fondness.
She supposed it should have irked her. Wouldn’t desperation or longing be better?
Maybe.
But fondness… that meant more to her. Any man could desire any woman for a moment or two. Fondness took more. It took the kind of caring that developed over time.
Her body warmed underneath his gaze. The sailor hadn’t been at Two Willows long, but she understood how he felt. She was growing fond of him, too.
Flush with desire, she tugged away from him and led him through the green passages of the maze, stopping now and then to demand another kiss, grateful to be hidden by the twenty-foot-high hedges that bordered the paths.
Each time he complied with a look on his face that said he’d do plenty more—whenever he chose. But he was letting her call the shots for now and that felt good.
Really good.
Jo stopped before they reached the center. “Kiss me, and…” She wanted him badly, but still she hesitated. This was her last chance to exercise caution.
“And…?” Hunter prompted, gathering her close again. Jo felt the sincerity emanating from him. She wasn’t fooling herself this time. Hunter wanted her, but more than that—he cared for her.
“And… touch me.”
It was like stepping into the abyss. Solid ground no longer held her up. She’d taken flight, but whether her wings would work or she’d crash into the chasm below was anyone’s guess.
Hunter’s eyes darkened with desire and Jo’s body tingled all over in anticipation. Would he…?
Yes.
As he kissed her, he slid both hands higher and palmed both her breasts. Jo closed her eyes, pleasure heating her until she thought she would swoon.
She didn’t object when he tugged her shirt up and over her head, nor when he bent to kiss the soft skin bordered by her lacy bra. She shivered as his lips traced the edge of it, and she didn’t even notice him undo the bra’s clasp until he pulled it away and left her bare from the waist up.
No fair, Jo thought, and yanked on the hem of his shirt until he took over the task, pulled it over his head and cast it off with hers. His wide, muscled chest was a sight to behold. Manly in the best of ways. This time when he cupped her breasts, she moaned aloud. His hands felt so good on her skin.
But first they needed to reach the center of the maze.
She led him, reveling in the feel of the autumn breeze on her bare flesh. This whole experience felt utterly decadent.
When they reached the center, Hunter slowed to a stop, taking in the enormous standing stone.
“It’s something to see, isn’t it?” Jo asked him.
“It sure is.” He let his gaze rest on her long enough to let her know he included her in that statement.
She knew the stone was impressive, though. She’d seen it a thousand times and it still drew her. No one knew who’d stood it here, or how they’d gotten it from Silver Falls where the granite was quarried. Jo moved closer and leaned against it, smiling her best come-hither smile at Hunter. He followed, leaned down and kissed her shoulder.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Hunter wasn’t lying; Jo was beautiful. And she was offering herself to him in a way he’d only dreamed about. How many times had he pictured what it would be like to undress her? He’d come here worrying Jo was too young for him, but she’d proved herself his match at every turn. Now he wanted to meet her as equals—
Naked.
“Are you sure you want this?” he couldn’t help but ask, though. Some protective impulse was still alive and well within him. He wasn’t sure if he was protecting her or himself. He’d never been the kind for hit-and-run relationships, and that was the last thing he wanted with Jo. He needed this to be long-term, for his own sake.
And forever for everyone else’s.
He wasn’t drawn to her because of a need to clear his name, however—or a desire to own a stake in a ranch as wonderful as Two Willows.
He was drawn to her because he saw so much he understood in her. He knew that went two ways. Most women could never relate to what he’d been through, not once, but over and over again in his time as a Navy SEAL. It was one thing to kill a man in the heat of battle. It was another thing altogether to be tasked with the job in the carefully controlled way a sniper set out to do it.
Hunter could never pretend to himself that luck or accident played any part in the lives he’d taken.
He’d set up the shots.
He’d pulled the trigger.
Because he’d known if he hadn’t, others would die.
When he allowed himself to think of a partnership with a woman, he’d always felt it would require compartmentalizing his life. With Jo that wasn’t necessary. Her father was a General. She was raised knowing more about the service than most civilians.
And she’d shot a man to protect her family.
She could be his wife. Bending to kiss her again, Hunter allowed himself to think all the way through that.
She could be his—forever. And he could be hers without keeping his military life from her. Without holding back.
In a flash Hunter realized why loving a woman had seemed so out of reach for so long. He hadn’t wanted to contaminate a woman with the death he’d known. He hadn’t wanted the cruel world he worked in to leach into an innocent woman’s life.
And he hadn’t been sure he was up to the task of keeping part of himself separate and at the same time being open enough to allow a woman to love him.
That kind of marriage seemed doomed to fail.
But now he was with Jo. He didn’t have to hide anything from her.
Couldn’t hide anything from her. And he wanted her.
Now.
Here.
Jo laced her hand in one of his, half turned and placed it flat against the flank of the rock. She caught Hunter’s gaze and held it.
Torn from his thoughts, Hunter wasn’t sure what she was doing until she asked in a clear, loud voice, “Can I trust Hunter Powell?”
He turned his head to see if someone else was there, but he already knew she was asking the stone. Brian had told him all about this custom in his early days at Two Willows.
Why else would she bring him here except to test him?
The stone always answered, apparently.
Sooner or later.
And it never lied.
When Jo let go of his hand, Hunter kept it there a moment, feeling the warmth the stone had absorbed from the sun. He wasn’t afraid of the question she’d asked because he had no intention of being untrustworthy. The stone itself intrigued him. He wondered how old it was.
“When—?”
Jo clapped a hand to her mouth and pointed up. Hunter shaded his eyes and spotted what she was looking at.
Two large birds few overhead on silent wings, so majestic—and so unexpected—it took him a moment to recognize what he was seeing.
“Swans?”
Jo nodded, blinking rapidly.
“I don’t—”
“Symbols of fidelity.” Her voice was strange. High. She was fighting tears, Hunter realized. “My mother’s favorites,” Jo went on. “They’re really rare in this part of the state; they usually stay closer to the southwest. It’s a message.” She turned to him, her eyes shining. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” But it had to be a coincidence, and he didn’t want to take advantage of—he really shouldn’t—even if he wanted—
“Make love to me,” Jo said.
Hunter struggled against his baser instincts. Almost mastered them.
Lost the battle.
He couldn’t hide what he felt from her. Didn’t want to. Couldn’t fool himself into thinking that Jo didn’t know exactly what she was asking of him. She had thought this through and she wanted him.
God, did he want her.
“Hell, yeah.”
Jo had had sex before—and regretted it.
Not so much the first time—a fumbling experience at sixteen in Mitch Hearny’s family’s barn that left them both too shy to mention it again. Maybe not the times she’d been with Todd Rankin either. She figured now their rather short, offhand relationship was par for the course for two seventeen-year-olds who were too busy working on their families’ ranches to spend enough time together to make it something more.
But the men she’d been with this last year were unworthy of her, and she wished she could take back the time she’d wasted on them.
All she could do was chalk it up to experience—and make better choices.
She had a feeling Hunter had meant to say no when he’d said yes. He was older than her and he obviously felt he was supposed to keep a clear head.
Which made it doubly delicious that he’d clearly lost his head where she was concerned.
She did this to him. Made him want her. Badly enough to throw caution to the wind.
When she reached out to undo his belt, he didn’t stop her. He outright groaned when she undid the button of his jeans, her fingers brushing his skin. Soon enough his fingers were working at the fastenings of her jeans and it became a race to each undress the other—an exercise that left them laughing and tangled in a heap since neither of them had taken off their boots before they shucked down each other’s pants.
After a fair amount of wiggling and kicking, she got her boots, jeans and panties off. Hunter arranged them in a kind of mat for her to lie on, adding his own to the mix.
“Naked as jaybirds,” she said aloud.
“That we are.” He sounded fairly pleased.
“We could do something about that.”
“We could.” But for a moment they both lay on their backs and watched the sky. Was he looking for more swans?
She was.
She didn’t need the confirmation, though. She wanted to be with Hunter, no matter what the circumstances. Maybe it was reckless to give love another chance after what she’d experienced, but it didn’t feel reckless. Hunter was special.
He was true. Loyal. And he cared what happened to her.
When he rolled over on top of her, she welcomed him with a satisfied sound.
He was hard and ready, and when he nudged her legs apart to rest his own between them, Jo’s whole body heated in anticipation. He bent down, took one nipple into his mouth and drew a lazy circle around it with his tongue.
Jo moaned.
As he nuzzled and teased her breasts, making good use of both his hands and his tongue, Jo relaxed and let him take charge—for now. He was good at what he was doing, and he coaxed such good feelings from inside her as he moved.
Soon she was so ready she couldn’t wait for him a moment longer.
“Please, Hunter—”
He lifted himself on his elbows. “Please, what?”
Was he going to make her say it again?
He was—the bastard.
“Make love to me.”
“Now?”
“Right now.”
“Like this?”
He nudged her with the tip of his hardness and Jo sighed, an almost guttural sound.
“Wait a minute. Better not take any chances.”
She murmured a protest as he moved to grab his jeans, but when he sheathed on a condom, she realized he was thinking far more carefully than she was.
“Hurry up,” she urged him.
“Hold your horses.” But he was smiling a very knowing, very happy smile, and she could wait—
“Oh,” she breathed, when he nudged up against her again and this time pushed inside.
He was big. Bigger than she’d had before, and oh, what a difference that made.
Jo found herself digging her fingers into the soft dirt, clutching at the ground as Hunter filled her full. When he pulled out and pushed in again, she let her eyes close and gave herself up to the sensations overpowering her.
This is what it was meant to feel like with a man.
This is what she’d been missing.
She never wanted to be without it again.
“Jo—” Hunter’s husky whisper told her it felt as good to him as it did to her. His pace picked up and she moaned again.
God, he felt good. His pace was perfect. He was thick and full inside her, pushing her to higher heights, urging her to a rousing crescendo of ecstasy she didn’t know how she’d contain. Somehow it was right that their first time was happening underneath the wide open sky. It made this true.
And that’s exactly how it felt.
Hunter worked inside her until he’d built a delicious friction that threatened to overwhelm her. His muscled hips thrust him in and out of her and all she could do was hang on.
When she went over the edge she couldn’t hold back her cries. Hunter came with her, grunting as he moved, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from her until she fell back, exhausted.
He collapsed on top of her and they breathed together until Hunter chuckled, the movement making him pulse inside her again.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. It’s just—good.”
She knew exactly what he meant. “I think you’ve spoiled me for other men,” she confessed.
He came alert, pushing up to look her in the eye. “No other men.”
She wasn’t sure if he was asking or telling her. Maybe a little of both. It was clear he wanted her assurance. It should have been aggravating, but it was kind of sexy.
“No other men,” she promised him.
And meant it.