“Since you asked, and since I need you, and if you’re still willing—”

“I am!”

I smiled down at my girl, pulled her body against mine, and—even though nothing was really resolved, and we had no plan, and I had no clue how this was going to work—I said, “Then let’s go.”

“But what about the shop? What about your brothers?”

“I’ve talked to Cletus and Beau, we’ll work something out with the shop.”

“You already talked to Cletus and Beau? About leaving?”

“Yes.”

“What will they do?”

“We’ll figure it out. They want me to be happy.”

“But do you think you’ll be happy? Really? I’ve been thinking we could compromise. Stay here during the school year and travel over the summer.”

“I’m not okay with that. I’m not asking you to compromise your dreams.”

“But what about your dreams?”

“You’re it.”

She blinked, her mouth parting just slightly.

“You’re it, Jessica James. And that’s the truth. Not racing or going fast. Not fixing up old cars. I want to spend my life with you. And maybe that makes me wrong in the head and unhealthy, or old-fashioned, but when I think of my future and what I want, all I see is you.”

Her smile was wide and hopeful, so the tears in her eyes didn’t alarm me much. Seeing her so happy took my breath away. And looking at her now something in me shifted. Actually, it was more than that. It was a blow to my chest, an earthquake, a fundamental rearranging of my foundation.

Not thinking about anything other than what I wanted right then, at that moment, I kissed her. I kissed her like I meant it because I did. I kissed her and moved my hands under her shirt to the hot skin of her stomach. I pressed my hips against her lower belly and tugged at her underwear, grabbing and squeezing handfuls of her body as I worked them down her thighs.

She gasped against my mouth as my hand cupped her sweet spot and stroked her with my middle finger, a long assertive touch.

Fucking hell, I wanted her beneath me, needed it. I needed her fighting sweet moans as I filled her, her hands held hostage, bare to me, taking and claiming this woman as mine. I wanted her fast and hard, and I wanted her slow and sweet.

“Duane!” She pushed lightly against my chest, breathing my name on an exhale. “Wait a minute, wait—what are you doing? My momma is right downstairs. Claire is next door.”

I filled my other hand with the weight of her breast and massaged her through the silk of her shirt, all the while fondling her heat.

“I want you,” I said simply; maybe I paired it with a growl to show my desperation.

Her big eyes moved between mine with a question, even while her breathing came in short chaotic bursts, her hips rocking against my hand.

“Was this part of your plan?” she panted

“Jess, like I said earlier, I have no plan. All I know is, I need inside you, now. I want you. And I’m not thinking about who’s downstairs or next door.”

Her pretty mouth slanted upwards with a dreamy smile even as a shuddering breath escaped her lungs. “You’re really going to climb in my bedroom window in the middle of the night, and have sex with me in my parents’ home?”

“Yes. That’s what I’m doing.” I bent to claim her mouth again but she tilted her head to the side, giving me a sly gaze.

Jessica’s hand smoothed from my shoulder, down my chest. Then she grinned, cupping and rubbing me through my jeans with her palm.

I didn’t want her teasing. I wanted satisfaction. I pushed her, advanced until her knees hit the bed and she was forced to fall backward on the mattress. She gazed up at me with enormous, excited eyes, her mouth slightly parted.

“Take off your shirt,” I said, nudging her knees apart, “and open your legs.”

I dispatched my shirt; took off my boots; unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and pushed them to the ground.

All the while her hungry stare watched me undress, and fuck me, I loved it.

Jess’s fingers unfastened her buttons, giving me a glimpse of the valley between her breasts, and she whispered, “Duane, you’re being terribly disrespectful.”

I climbed between her spread thighs, spreading her wider, stroking her need with mine, then whispered in her ear, “If you’re willing, I’d like to disrespect you all night long.”

***

“What are you thinking about?”

I blinked at the ceiling, her question unexpected only because we’d been laying in silence for so long. We should have been asleep. I was tired enough. And though we were still in her bedroom and I’d just spent the last three hours disrespecting the hell out of her, my mind was finally content.

Yet she kept reaching for me—mostly for kisses and touches, petting and embracing—and I wasn’t inclined to deny Jessica anything. So I waited. For her to settle. For her to relax. For her to sleep. And I used the time to appreciate the feel of her in my hands.

“I was just thinking your skin is awfully soft,” I answered honestly.

“Really?” Jess’s leg was between mine and she was on her stomach, one arm over my chest. Her face was turned toward my neck and I felt her breath against my shoulder.

“Yep.”

She propped her elbow on the mattress and lifted her head, held her cheek in her hand and gazed down at me. “Do you want the name of my moisturizer? I can get some for you, maybe for Christmas? A stocking stuffer?”

I made sure my expression was as flat as my tone. “My stocking doesn’t need stuffing.”

She gave me a little smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. I would have missed the subtle sadness if I hadn’t been able to see so well in the dark.

Jessica shifted like she was going to lay down again, but I stopped her by gripping her arm. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

She blinked. “Can you see my face?”

“Yes.”

“How can you see my face? It’s pitch black in here.”

“I just can. Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?”

“Can you see in the dark?” Now her eyes were narrowed.

“I’ll answer you when you answer me.”

Jess hesitated, and in her hesitation I saw more unhappiness. My chest constricted with dread.

But then she said, “My Aunt Louisa…she was my mother.”

Before I had an opportunity to process these words her face crumpled and she sucked in a breath. Tears and sobs soon followed. Jessica flung herself down on me and I automatically wrapped her in my arms. I was confused. But once I sorted out what she’d said, I was mostly astonished.

“She was your mother?”

Jess nodded, burrowing herself against my neck.

“How long have you known?”

“Just found out last Thursday,” came her muffled response.

I cursed, holding her tighter, my chest again constricting. I wasn’t one for regrets, but if I could have rewound the last week and done everything over, I would have.

“I’m so sorry. I should have… I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head and pulled away, sniffling. “No. No it’s fine. Really. It’s just—”

“I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve gone to Texas for the funeral.”

She continued as though I hadn’t spoken or she hadn’t heard me. “It’s just, I don’t know why she never told me, you know? She gave me to her sister, treated me like an employee every time I visited—which, technically, I was, I know that—but I don’t understand why she didn’t want me to know until it was too late.”

“What does Mrs. James say? Or the Sheriff?”

Jessica’s eyes came back to mine and she wiped a tear from her cheek, her lips pressing in to a wobbly smile. “My daddy says it changes nothing. He says I’m his, have been since the day I was born and he held me.”

Though it was a strange thing to remark upon while naked in bed with Jessica under the man’s roof, I said, “I’ve always liked Sheriff James.”

She nodded, then continued, “Momma says that Louisa never gave her a reason. One day, Louisa called and said she was pregnant, said she wanted to give the baby up for adoption, but wanted to check with her first to see if she wanted me.”

“And your momma and the Sheriff wanted you.”

“Yes. They did. And Momma says Louisa never wanted to talk about it, about me.” She heaved a watery breath. “My birth mother didn’t want me, and when she was alive she…she made me feel so inferior. Is it wrong that I’m so sad about this? Is it strange that it hurts so much?”

I shook my head, cupped her cheeks between mine, and gave her a firm kiss before responding. “No. It’s not wrong. Our situations aren’t the same, but I might as well have been a goat to my father.”

Jessica half laughed, half sighed. “Duane—”

“It’s true. All us kids were property to him. He didn’t want us, except when he did. I know a thing or two about being left, discarded. But I’ve had my whole life to grow accustomed to it.”

Even in her sadness Jessica grew fierce and angry. “Your daddy is a pathetic excuse for a human being, not worth your time or thought. If he couldn’t see how amazing you are then he should be horsewhipped, then covered in paper cuts and lemon juice, then shot, then—”