Later, I didn’t remember driving home after leaving Case’s. Sometime late the next morning Robbie was knocking, calling through the door like a worried little brother. When I didn’t respond he texted me, Can I at least have my keys?
Go away, I managed to text back. Go the fuck away.
I wanted to die. I couldn’t even cry I was so dead inside. When Robbie refused to leave, I shoved his keys beneath the door and then fell straight back into my bed.
Is this what you want? Is this what’s right?
Turnbull and Hinckley is going to call with a job offer any moment.
It’s what you want.
You can’t stay here. You don’t belong here…
I didn’t move until sometime towards early evening, unable to look at my face in the mirror, because if I did I would have to acknowledge that I was leaving behind the man I was in love with.
Oh God, I love him…
But I can’t stay here…
I can’t…
Clark called me, which I ignored. I thought about calling my sister, but I couldn’t bear to talk to Camille right now. I couldn’t bear to do anything but drive back to Case’s house and tell him the truth. But that would only hurt both of us more than anything.
Would he come back to Chicago with me?
Could I even ask that of him?
Oh God, I want to die. I want simply to die.
Case, Case, Case…
I dreamed of Case that night and the next, terrible dreams in which I was tied up, wrists and ankles, a prisoner, sobbing brokenly for him. Somehow I knew he was in terrible danger. Mortal danger. I worked at the rope bindings until I was slick with my own blood. And then, into this dreamscape, Derrick Yancy suddenly emerged. Although he didn’t look exactly like the man I knew in this life, it was undoubtedly him. He came near where I was tied and regarded me with a grimace, a horrible smirking smile. He put his hand under my chin, just lightly, and whispered, Tell me, Patricia, what does a man do with an unfaithful wife?
When I stubbornly didn’t answer, he struck me in the face so hard that sparks exploded across my vision, blood pouring wetly over my mouth and chin.
And then I would wake to morning light with a shuddering gasp, scarcely making it to the toilet before I vomited.
***
I was silent at work on Monday. I told Al, “I don’t want to talk about it,” and wisely he didn’t press. Thank God that Mary was out sick. I worked like a demon, shutting out everything but legal matters. Al let me take on a couple of minor disputes, both in the realm of family law, and I spent most of the afternoon at the courthouse, refusing to think about a thing other than the petitions in my hands. Hank Ryan was there, and greeted me warmly; it was all I could do to return his smile. When I was through with work it was still early afternoon and I considered going down to Records and looking up more information about the Yancys and the Spicers, but the thought of seeing Case’s name on old documents, of perhaps running across a mention of Cole Spicer, was more painful than I could even consider.
You made your bed, I reminded myself grimly. Now you just have to get through these next few weeks and then go home. I had driven to the courthouse, even though it would have been much easier to walk, but I was too terrified of running into Case. As I drove back through the late afternoon sunshine, studying the familiar streets of Jalesville, I understood that I had to leave sooner than that. I had to go back to Chicago, now. This week. Maybe even tomorrow.
You coward, I told myself, viciously, gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands. You can’t back out now. Al is counting on you for at least a few more weeks.
I can’t bear it, I thought, echoing Case’s words; my heart was hollowed out, drained of everything.
How can this be right?
Tish, answer me. How can this be right?
Immediately after work I drove home and drew the blinds, curled onto my couch. Jerry Woodrow, the sheriff, had stopped in to the law office to tell me that there had been no leads on the break-in of my apartment. I didn’t tell him that I already knew exactly who had broken into my place, and that right now I didn’t care about anything but getting through the next moment. My phone, forlorn on the kitchen table, was lit up like a radio tower with messages, many of which were from Camille, but I couldn’t bear to talk to her either.
It was after ten that night when someone knocked on my door. I started awake, falling off the couch, and then my heart sprang to wild, frantic life, thinking it might be Case. I wanted to see him, just to see him. Someone knocked again and then I heard Clark say, “Tish, honey, it’s just me. You wouldn’t answer your phone and I was getting worried.”
I went to the door and tipped my forehead against it. I had to clear my throat two times before I managed to say, “Clark, I’m so sorry.”
“Can I come in?” he asked. “Will you talk to me?”
“I can’t,” I said, aching, bled out. “I just can’t right now.”
“None of us want you to go,” Clark said. “Al called me today, said he’s worried sick about you. Thinks you’re going to leave early for Chicago. He doesn’t want that either.”
“Clark,” I said, though I was unable to open the door. I couldn’t bear to see how disappointed he was in me. I asked him, my throat aching, “Is he all right?”
There was a silence that burned right through the door. Clark said at last, “I’m not going to lie and tell you that he is. I can’t do that.”
I sank to my knees, my head still against the door. Tears began clawing the inside of my skull, but it was nothing less than I deserved. Clark said, “This next Friday is Garth and Becky’s anniversary, hon. We’re having a party at The Spoke. We’d all be much obliged if you’d come.”
There was no way in hell I could show my face. But I whispered, “Thanks, Clark. Thank you for everything.”
I sensed his reluctance to go. He finally said, “I think you should stay, Tish. Please know that.”
And a minute later I heard the sound of his diesel truck grumbling softly as he took his leave.
***
I went to work every day that week. I ate hardly a bite of food, only drank enough to keep me alive. By Friday Al and Mary were ready to conduct an intervention.
“Patty, you’ve done a world of good here,” Mary told me, stroking my hair as I sat at my desk, face buried in my arms. By noon I had given up all pretense of trying to work, as I had all week, and just let my head drop. “So many families have refused to sell to Overland because of your efforts. Yours and Al’s. You two should be proud of yourselves.”
“Thanks, Mary,” I muttered.
Al came near and said, “Tish, if you’re hurting this badly…”
I raised my head then and lied, “I’m just fine. Just fine.”
Al made me go home at three-thirty, where I crumpled on the floor near my couch this time. I was in no way trying to be dramatic; it was just where my legs happened to give out. Maybe three hours passed and I was half-asleep when the phone rang near my ear, where it had fallen. Somehow I knew I needed to take this phone call, even in my semi-conscious state. I fumbled and brought it to my field of view, heart speeding up to see a Chicago number. Peaches was curled near my belly, as usual.
I cleared my throat but still sounded like a pack-a-day smoker when I answered on the fourth ring, “Patricia Gordon.”
“Miss Gordon?” asked a cultured female voice. “Hello there, this is Ginny Tinsdale, calling from Turnbull, Hinckley and Associates. How are you this evening?”
“Wonderful,” I said, hitching myself to a sitting position. My mouth was dry as sandpaper.
“Glad to hear it,” she said cheerfully, ignoring the way my tone contradicted the word. “I apologize for contacting you so late on a Friday, but you were unavailable yesterday and then earlier today. I am calling on behalf of the partners here. They would like to invite you to return to Chicago to personally accept a position here at our firm. Pending your passage of the bar exam, of course.”
A position here at our firm…
Oh God…
‘Moment of clarity’ were the words that flashed through my mind right then. I sat there on the floor of my apartment, shaking and with a cold chill across my gut, stunned at what I had almost let happen, what I had almost done. Here with my dream job offer literally at my fingertips. Oh God, what had I almost done? How could I have come so close to the brink this way?
Oh God…
“Miss Gordon?” asked the voice in Chicago, when it was apparent that I wasn’t immediately responding.
“Please tell Mr. Turnbull that I decline, respectfully,” I said, and for the first time in nearly a week I was able to draw a full breath, knowing that I had done what I was meant to do; I had finally made the right choice, for once in my life. I said, “Please tell him that I’ve accepted another offer, to work for Mr. Howe, here in Jalesville.”
There was a startled silence coming back to my ear, before she said, in a completely different tone, a tone of shock, “Will do, Miss Gordon. You…have a nice evening.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I will, oh God, I will now.
I rolled to all fours and then to my feet, almost stumbling as I ran to my bedroom, stripping free of my crumpled work clothes and then into jean shorts and a t-shirt, grabbing the first one I saw. I hit the bathroom only to brush my teeth as fast as I could, shaking out my loose hair with my fingers. My eyes were red-rimmed, with terrible smudges beneath, but I couldn’t worry about that right now, not when I had to get to Case as fast as I could.
Call him!
I did, grabbing my keys along the way, slipping into my green flip-flops. I told Peaches, “Be a good girl,” as Case’s phone rang and rang, my heart slicing through my ribs in the silence between each ring. He didn’t answer; it went to an automated message and then I was running, out the door and to my car, fumbling the keys from my purse, dropping them, my heart alive again within me.
Seconds later dust flew in a powdery cloud behind my car as I drove over gravel roads, flew really, out to Ridge Road in the late-evening light; only the thought of the animals slowed me down in his yard. I parked, heart thrusting so hard I put a hand over it, jumping from the car. Mutt and Tiny came tumbling and I hugged them close, calling, “Case! Are you here?”
I ran to the screen door, tugging to find it locked. To the barn next, stepping out of my shoes so that I could move more quickly, my voice becoming almost frantic as I continued to call for him. Cider and Buck snorted and nickered at me, but I could not waste a moment. Back outside and under the setting sun several things dawned upon me.
Tish, his truck isn’t here.
Calm down. Get a grip on yourself.
It’s Garth and Becky’s party tonight, at The Spoke, remember?
You weren’t going to go, but that’s where he’ll be.
Right. Calm down, drive back to town.
Main Street was already beneath the Honda’s tires when I realized I hadn’t put on my shoes; they were still outside the barn.
Who cares?
Just get there.
The amount of cars and trucks at The Spoke only caused my blood pressure to rise, as I couldn’t immediately tell if Case’s truck was mixed amongst the others. I parked, the ground prickly beneath my bare feet. Certainty had overtaken me, and pure need, and I needed to tell him the truth. I needed to tell Case that I was in love with him and that I was never planning to leave his side ever again.
Oh God.
I burst through the front door of the little bar and grill. Inside it was chaotic with people drinking, dancing to the current musicians, who were playing something wild and raucous, lots of fiddle. There was a bunch of helium balloons on the bar and I saw the Rawley boys from across the room. Many, many greetings were called my way, smiles and hellos; someone asked why I wasn’t wearing shoes, but I had no time for anything but finding Case. He was not in sight.
Where, where, where?
The back entrance!
I darted outside again, into the gathering dusk, raced around the far side of the building and ran smack into the sight of Case and Garth, twenty paces away. My heart seized up to observe Case sitting on a chair he’d dragged outside, curled forward, his fiddle bow held lengthwise against his face, shoulders hunched. His hat was on the ground near his boots. Garth was bent near him, guitar in hand, speaking fervently to his friend, one hand upon Case’s shoulder.
Oh God.
I had done this to him, and to myself.
“Case,” I said, my throat rough, and he jerked at the sound of my voice, as though I had run him through with something unimaginably sharp. Garth turned to regard me more slowly. My heart became even more frantic as Case watched me silently for the space of a few seconds; he had been crying, quietly and devastatingly.
I ran to him, but he had already stood up, turned from me.
“Wait,” I begged him, catching at him, but he jerked roughly from my grip. I hadn’t seen him in almost a week, but I was determined that I would see him every day and night for the rest of my life, come hell or high water. Starting immediately.
Garth caught my upper arm lightly in his grip, preventing my forward motion, while Case disappeared into The Spoke without a backward glance at me, door closing behind him. I struggled furiously, telling him, “Let me go.”
“Hey,” Garth said intently, obviously angry. “Leave him alone. You can’t do this to him. Just go. He’s a fucking wreck.”
I knew Garth loved his friend and was only protecting him. Further, I realized this was Garth’s anniversary party and that I should probably say congratulations at the very least, but instead I yanked from his light grip and decided I would explain everything later, darting at once to try and open the door through which Case had just disappeared, only to find it locked.
“Garth,” I begged.
He shook his head at me and I couldn’t waste time right here. I turned in a panic and ran back around the side of the bar. There was a huge cluster of people jamming the door.
Goddammit…move…
“Excuse me,” I said breathlessly.
“Tish, you aren’t wearing shoes,” I heard.
There was some laughter but I didn’t care, elbowing rudely through the crush of bodies. It was like being in a nightmare. Barefoot, wild-eyed, I made it around and into the bar in time to see Case and Garth emerge from backstage, probably ready to play next. Dammit. I knew Garth could have let me in the back door. Case was wearing his hat but I could still tell that his eyes zeroed in right upon me. I was prepared to storm the stage, but it was so crowded. People kept trying to talk to me. Someone else asked why I wasn’t wearing shoes.
And then another hand caught my upper arm.
“What a sight you make,” said Derrick Yancy, and I spun to face him, ready to claw at him for touching me in any fashion, but most especially right now. In my mind I saw him as he’d looked at the Coyote’s Den calling me a whore, later threatening me in the parking lot at Stone Creek, and then in my nightmares, smashing me across the face.
He saw the unchecked rage in my eyes, as his eyebrows lifted. My voice shook as I demanded, “How can you show your face here?”
He showed his teeth in a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He said calmly, “I told you I wanted to talk to you. And so you will come outside with me, right now.”
“You fucker,” I said, all of the loathing I felt for him, fair or not, surging into my voice. “You broke into my apartment, didn’t you? What were you trying to find? I know you’re trying to scare me, but you haven’t!”
“Jesus, let’s not make a scene,” he said smoothly, putting his mouth close to my ear. “Come outside with me.”
“No,” I told him, through gritting teeth, tugging at his grip.
“I insist,” he said. “Before you go back to Chicago, as I’ve heard you are doing this week, I insist.”
“Let me fucking go!” I raged, and even with the loud music and raucous chatter all around us, more than one head spun our way. And then, abruptly, my world narrowed to a single focal point.
I saw him coming, setting people roughly to the side, and everything inside me lunged forcefully towards him. Case reached us and without one wasted movement, wrapped his right hand around Derrick’s forearm and forcibly removed his grip from me.
“You fucking son of a bitch, touch her again and I will kill you where you stand,” Case said low, through clenched teeth. He was breathing hard, shoulders heaving.
Derrick, clearly flustered, spat out, “Are you threatening me? Fuck you.”
“No, fuck you,” Case said, low and deadly, and with those words he turned from Derrick as though he was no longer worth a moment’s time. Without so much as looking at me, he began walking away, shoving through the door and out towards the parking lot. I took off after him at once, through the doors and into the twilight.
“Case!” I begged, getting my hands around his shirt, but he yanked free and began jogging away from me. My feet hurt like hell on the rough ground but I ran in frantic pursuit, spying his truck no more than fifty feet away. My keys were in my own car, but it was more than twice that distance in the other direction. He would get to his truck and then he would drive away from me. I would not allow that to happen again.
“Stop!” I begged him. He reached his truck first and I ran faster. I slammed myself against the driver’s side door, breathing hard and furious, blocking his way. His eyes were still deadly as he regarded me, but I held my ground.
“Case, oh God, don’t go — don’t go without me,” I gasped out.
“I’m done,” he said flatly. “Done. I can’t. I’m fucking destroyed. Are you happy?”
I reached for him, but he sidestepped my hands. He raged, “Don’t touch me. What are you fucking doing? What the hell can you possibly want from me?”
I was infuriated at the tears in my throat and gushing over my face, as they inhibited my voice. I gasped, “You, I want you. Oh God…I turned down the job…in Chicago…”
He put his hands to his forehead, pressing hard. I had already done so much damage to his heart that my own felt broken, in response. I moved swiftly then, getting my arms around his waist, determined to tell him, even if I had to wrestle him to the ground. He shifted then, suddenly, and took my face into his hands, pressing his thumbs to my bottom lip.
“These are my lips,” he said before I could speak, his voice low and harsh, his eyes driving forcefully into mine. “And no one else will ever kiss them again.”
I trembled against him, needing him so much that it beat at me like curled fists. I pressed so close to him that I could feel his heart thrusting against me.
“Do you understand?” he asked, just above a whisper.
I nodded with a jerk of my chin and told him the truth at last, clinging to him as I said, “Case, I love you, oh God, I love you.”
“Tell me you mean that,” he ordered hoarsely, rigid with tension in my arms. “Tell me you mean it.”
“Case,” I whispered painfully, but I understood just what I had put him through, and I deserved every word he was saying. I told him intently, “I mean it. Case, I love you.”
His eyes.
Nothing had ever felt more right than the joy that burst through my soul in that moment, seeing how my words affected him. Hot tears that recognized the pain I had caused both of us spilled over my face. I held him as hard as I could.
“I’m in love with you,” I told him and my heart thrust fiercely as he closed his eyes and breathed in hard. I caught his face between my hands and implored around the lump in my throat, “I don’t want the job in Chicago. I already told them I’m not taking it. I don’t want to leave because I never want to be away from you, ever again.”
“Tish,” he whispered my name, and his voice was hoarse. He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs moving softly along my skin. “I told myself I could live without you, that I’ve faced worse things, but nothing is worse than the thought of that. Not one thing.”
I pulled him back to me, hugging him with all of my strength. He stroked his hands through my hair and I put my lips to his right ear, kissing him, caressing him with both hands as I said, “I love you, oh God, I love you. I love how you sing and how you love your horses, and how you touch your instruments. I love the man you are. I can’t imagine being without you for one more moment.” I kissed his lips then, hard, before whispering, “Please tell me that you can forgive me for being so stupid, so blind.”
He said, low and husky, “You. You are all that I need in this world.” He used both thumbs to brush aside my tears and then asked softly, “Will you come with me, right now?”
I nodded, kissing his chin, his jaw, breathing against him. He bent enough to lift me into his arms, carrying me to his truck, using one hand to open the door, setting me gently on the seat.
“Come in this way,” I told him, tugging him after me. “I can’t bear to let go of you.”
He climbed in directly after me, keeping me close to his side as he started the engine and drove us out of the parking lot.
“Is this happening?” he whispered hoarsely. I took the hat from his head, setting it aside and then getting my arms around his neck, holding him close.
“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” I whispered, kissing his temple, his cheek, warm and wet with tears, his jaw, the side of his neck. Words poured from me as I told him, “I was going to tell you that night, in your yard…” My heart clenched in pain at the thought of that. I rushed on, “I was afraid. But there’s nothing more frightening than the rest of my life without you. Oh God, I’ve been dying without you. You have to know that. Dying.”
He took the truck straight over the dark roads to his place. The moment it was parked he caught me forcefully to him, kissing me deeply, his hands tangled into my hair. I clutched his shoulders, tasting him, needing nothing more in the world than this.
“I didn’t think I could go on another moment,” he whispered painfully. Through the open windows of the truck, we heard Cider and Buck at the corral, nickering at us. I laughed then, through my tears, as the dogs jumped up on the truck.
“They’re welcoming me home, I think,” I said, around the lump in my throat.
“That’s exactly what they’re doing,” he said hoarsely. He stroked gently over my arm, where Derrick had gripped me, and whispered, “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I assured him.
“When I looked up and saw you outside, just a little while ago, I thought maybe I was hallucinating,” he said. “I couldn’t bear to hope that it was really you.”
I clung to him and explained, “I can’t go on without you, not one more day.”
“It’s the same for me,” he whispered back, pressing soft, tender kisses to every part of my bare skin near him, my shoulders, my neck, my eyelids, the corner of my mouth, my ears. I held fast to him, running my hands repeatedly over his hair.
“There’s something…” I whispered and he drew back to cup my face, listening intently. I said, almost shyly, “There’s something I want us to do. Can we ride Cider? Together, I mean? I’ve been imagining that…”
“You have?” he whispered. “Oh God, I would love to ride her with you. I would love that with all my heart.”
He lifted me from the truck and carried me to the corral; secure in his arms, I put my own around Cider’s warm neck, kissing her.
“Hey there,” I said, stroking her. “I’ve missed you.” And then to Buck, “You too, buddy.”
Case kissed her between the eyes and asked her, “You want to take a ride with Tish and me, sweet girl? How would that be?”
“I don’t have on the right kind of clothes,” I worried, getting my arms back around Case’s neck. I curled my fingers into his hair and he grinned at me, sending heat and sparks all through my center. I said softly, “I don’t even have my shoes.”
“You’re perfect,” he whispered. “We won’t ride long.”
In the corral he set me gently to the ground and then said, “Let me help you up.”
He boosted me and I settled atop her back with no saddle; she was very warm, solid and firm beneath me. I looked down at Case, my heart throbbing. I asked, “She won’t mind not having a saddle?” A trembling moved all along my leg as he rested his warm hand against my bare thigh.
“No, she’s used to it,” he said softly, and then patted Cider’s flank, murmuring, “Down, girl, there’s a good girl,” and she obediently and politely bent her legs so that he could climb upon her, behind me, with no stirrup. Cider accepted this extra weight and straightened, tossing her head a little. As he shifted his hips and came right up behind me, I couldn’t stop from shivering, melting into the solid strength of him. I had dreamed about this for so damn long now.
“This is even better than spooning,” I said breathlessly, cupping my hands around his thighs, aligned with mine on either side, stroking all along the length of him.
He shivered then, wrapping his arms around me and cradling me to his chest, sweeping all of my hair to one side so he could kiss my temple, my jaw, hot, soft kisses that sent shockwaves through me. I tightened my grip on his legs and he shifted his hips, lightly curling his right hand into Cider’s thick mane, and she moved forward into an eager walk.
“There’s a good girl,” he told her, and I felt his left knee tighten; he walked her towards the edge of the gravel road and into the darkness of the night. My heart was beating nearly out of my chest as he kept one arm around my waist. I tipped my head to give him better access to nuzzle my neck, which he did. Against his powerful chest I felt so safe…so whole.
“This is so perfect,” I told him, holding fast to his thighs. “I wanted this so much the first night we rode the horses together.”
“You can’t know how perfect this is,” he agreed. And then he said into my ear, low and husky, “I want to touch you,” and I could hardly form words to respond, so aroused and so in love with him, oh God, so in love with him.
“Case,” I whispered. “Yes, oh God, yes, touch me…”
Slowly, deliberately, he unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts and slipped his warm left hand down the front, teasing beneath the edge of my panties, moving gently over my pubic hair, at last reaching the sensitive skin between my legs, where I was already so slippery-wet with desire that just his fingertips skimming over me sent the first pulse of an orgasm through my lower body. I moaned and dug my fingernails into his jeans, and felt him smile against the side of my neck.
“Do you know how goddamn long I’ve wanted to touch you?” he whispered, his words soft on my skin.
“Case,” I whispered again, trembling hard now. I could hardly remember a thing but his name.
He bit my earlobe, lightly, as he stroked, gentle and slow at first, building towards a faster pace, lifting me higher than I would have ever known possible, my breath coming in gasps.
“You feel so damn good,” he said, low and sweet, and then bit the side of my neck and took me straight off the cliff. I caught his forearm in both of my hands at the last moment and he pressed the base of his broad palm firmly against me as I shuddered almost violently and would have fallen from horseback if not for his arms. Cider’s hooves crunched along the gravel beneath us as she continued walking, unconcerned.
“Oh holy shit,” I whispered, eyes closed, and he laughed, low and satisfied, against my hair. I turned enough so that I could press the side of my face to his chest, still trembling a little, and he lifted my chin to place a soft kiss on my lips.
“Thank you,” I told him, breathing against his collarbones. He felt so good and I wanted to be held to his chest like this for the rest of my life. Never letting go, not ever again.
He laughed once more, I felt the rumble of it against my cheek. He said primly, “You’re so very welcome. I’m hoping you let me do a lot more, later.”
I looked up at him, his face in shadows in the dark of night, the half-moon hardly enough to light the great sweeping foothill plains, and I painted in all the colors of him from memory. I touched his face, let my fingers trace over his jaw, stubbled with a day’s growth of whiskers, my thumb skimming his eyebrows, his beautiful chiseled lips. I thought of the shadows beneath his eyes and touched him there so gently, aching at the pain I had put him through. I knew his face, had known it in another incarnation in the past, and though I hadn’t yet explained this to him, I knew he understood. I knew he felt it too.
“You don’t know how good that feels,” he whispered, turning his face into my hand.
Cider gave a low whinny, sidestepping a little, as though sensing my urgency.
“Can we go back to your place?” I begged in a whisper.
His eyes glinted with teasing, I could tell even in the darkness, as he asked, “Why’s that?”
“I want it to be ‘later’ right now,” I explained. And without another word, he halted Cider and turned her about, caught me tighter to his chest and then lightly heeled her flanks. I didn’t have to be an expert to know that we were moving as fast as Cider could run, a full-out gallop.
“Oh God, my place is a wreck,” he muttered as we stumbled through the screen door. In the dim interior I wasted no time pulling him to me, needing his taste against my tongue more than I had ever needed anything.
“It doesn’t…matter,” I gasped between kisses. We fell against the counter and he groaned and let me yank the shirt from his back; my own made a ripping sound as he freed me from it. With a fluid movement he set me on the counter, my hands all over his shoulders, his bare chest, kissing his neck, his jaw, as he unhooked my bra and wasted no time pressing his face between my breasts, cupping them, stroking with his thumbs as I caught his head and arched towards him. I moaned as he took me into his mouth, one nipple after the other, drawing on me with his hot, stroking tongue, my fingers in his hair.
“Case,” I gasped out, repeatedly, and he pressed hot kisses back up my neck, claiming my mouth again, taking me into his arms, my legs around his waist as he carried me forthwith to his bedroom. I wrapped around him, kissing him feverishly, my breasts against his bare chest. He took us to the mattress where I had once knelt alone, and then clicked on the bedside lamp, both of us breathing as though we’d just sprinted from Jalesville to get here.
He studied my eyes, all of the wonder and love and longing I felt echoed in his expression. He smoothed his hands over the sides of my face as he whispered, “I can’t quite believe you’re here. I’ve imagined this so many times. Oh God, you can’t know what this means to me.”
“You said a long time ago that you knew I was the one for you,” I said, tears brimming in my eyes. I clung to him with my legs, my hands resting on his broad chest. “You were right. It just took me this long to see it. Oh Case, oh God, I love you. And now I see it with all my heart. I’m so sorry I hurt you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I fought it.”
I could feel the beating of his heart, matching mine, pulsing beneath my right palm. He said softly, “It’s always been worth the fight. I want you to know that.”
“You are such an incredible man,” I told him, touching him without ceasing, caressing his hard, warm skin. “I love that you don’t back down. I love that you’re so passionate, that you care so deeply about the people in your life. And the animals. I want to be at your side, for always.” Tears were washing over my cheeks, splashing on his hands.
“I knew the moment I saw you that I would do anything it took to keep you here in Jalesville, with me.” He caught my right hand against his cheek, turning his face to press his lips to my palm before he said, softly, “I told myself I’d just stop into Al’s that day, just say hello, and then I would go. But then…” his eyes drove into mine. “Then I saw you and I knew I was just as much a goner as I’d ever been. A thousand times more. I took one look at you, the woman of my dreams, the only woman on the earth for me, right in front of me at last.” His voice was hoarse with emotion as he added, “I got back in the truck and I was shaking like a teenager.”
I pressed closer to him, touching his face, stroking him. I said, “And I have spent every day since then wanting to be near you, to feel you touching me. I started falling in love with you that very moment.”
“I had almost given up all hope. I don’t want to blink, even now, for fear that I’m dreaming all of this,” he said.
“Case, sweetheart,” I said, hugging him as tightly as I could, his arms wrapping even more fiercely around me in response. “That first day you brought me here, I held your t-shirt to my face, just so I could smell you on it. I didn’t know that I could long so hard, that there was so much emotion inside of me. It’s you, all you. Oh God, I love you.”
“This makes up for everything,” he said, his eyes intent upon me, even as tears skimmed over his cheeks. He stroked my hair, held my face and kissed my lips with utmost gentleness. He whispered, “I can’t tell you how much I love you. There were times I thought my heart might break with it.”
“Your heart,” I said, tipping to kiss his chest in that exact spot. I rested my cheek against him and he cuddled me close. I told him, “I cherish it. I will cherish it always. And you have mine. You have had it since that night at Camille’s wedding. I was just too stupid to know it then.”
“You weren’t stupid. And I was out of line. But I meant everything I said that night. I knew that we were meant to be together. I know it still,” he said.
I drew back because I wanted to see his eyes, rolling to my knees to get my arms around his neck. My breasts were just at his chin with him sitting and me kneeling and he tipped his head to press a soft kiss just between them. Against my skin he whispered, “You are so beautiful. Oh God, so beautiful. Inside and out. Your sweet, passionate soul is what I love the most, I want you to know that.”
“I do,” I told him intently, pressing even closer. “This summer is what I have been moving towards my entire life. You. Towards you. We’ve been together before now, you know that, don’t you?”
“I do know it,” he said, looking hard into my eyes. “I do, Tish. I knew it the moment I first saw your face in the photograph. It’s the strongest thing I’ve ever felt.”
“I have so much to tell you,” I said. “Oh God, Case…I came so close to not even coming out here…I never would have known…I never would have understood…”
“But you did,” he reassured. “You’re here now, sweetheart, and that’s all that matters.”
Though I wanted to tell him everything I had discovered, there were a few other pressing matters I wanted to tend to first. Threading my fingers into his hair, I whispered, “I think about you all the time.”
“What do you think about?” he whispered, his hands spread wide upon my back, fingers stroking. He opened his lips upon me, gently licking the sensitive skin between my breasts.
“This,” I whispered, flushing hotly. “You holding me…kissing me…oh God…”
He cupped my breasts in his big hands, drawing my nipples into his mouth, slow and heated, as my eyes almost rolled backward into my head. Arching into his kisses, I whispered, “But this…is so much…better…”
He smiled at that, his mouth still upon me. I realized both of us were only half-undressed and a swift urgency overtook me as I grasped his shoulders and bit his left earlobe, close to begging as I whispered, “Can I see you? All of you? I’ve been dreaming about it for so long now…”
He whispered back, “And people wonder if there’s a heaven…”
I giggled then, squirreling to push him onto the mattress. My hair fell all around us as he let me maneuver him to his back. I was still wearing my jean shorts, otherwise naked. He clutched my hips and made to free me from the rest of my clothes, but I ordered, “No. You lie still. I want to touch you.”
His lips lifted in a seductive smile and he cupped my breasts, stroking me slowly. I caught his wrists and pinned them to the sides of his head, which he allowed, letting my nipples skim over his chest. He shivered and the smile fell from his lips as he warned, “I can only take so much lying still, just so you know…”
“You hush,” I told him, licking gently along his bottom lip. “I will have my way with you.”
I removed my hands from his wrists, ordering instantly, “Don’t move,” as he moved immediately to reach for me. I whispered against his lips, “Hold still,” and he did, though I could feel the tension of our desire broiling between us, about a minute from exploding and shattering us both. I was trembling as I sat back. My shorts were still unbuttoned, and I stood to slip free of them, leaving just white, lacy panties.
He swallowed hard and shifted towards me, but I begged, “Let me,” and bent back to him, letting my hair glide across his belly, straddling his hips. I skimmed my nipples again over his chest, pressing hot little kisses down the center of him. He made a low sound, deep in his throat, and I resumed my southward course, clutching his hips in both hands, marveling at the freckle patterning on his body, kissing each one I saw as his breathing grew shallow. At last I could take no more of my own teasing and wasted no time freeing his cock from his jeans and he moaned as I took him in hand, rubbing my cheek against his hard, hot, rigid flesh. I opened my lips over him and his fingers went into my hair. I didn’t stop him this time, too preoccupied with his cock, still so wet from his hand upon me earlier.
He groaned my name and I took him as deeply down my throat as I could. I wanted every bit of him so much that I could hardly even begin to describe it; I lifted my head only long enough to order breathlessly, “I want you to come in my mouth,” and then bent to him again. A small part of me, the part that retained a tiny shred of rational thought, was rather proud of myself for the sounds I was causing him to make. He changed shape against my tongue, swelling even more as he came, and I took it all down my throat; I had never done such a thing and I almost choked.
“Oh…my…God…” he gasped.
“Case,” I gasped out, giggling convulsively, moving back up his body. “I need…a napkin…”
We were both laughing then, though he was still shaking a little. He leaned and grabbed the edge of a blanket, and then curled me to his chest, kissing my temple, my ear, my neck, as I wiped my mouth and could not stop giggling.
“Holy shit, woman,” he said. “I have never come so hard in my life.”
“I should hope not,” I teased him. “Until the very next time I make you come, that is.”
He grinned and shook his head, rolling us to the side. He said, “You’re pretty damn bossy, you know that?”
My giggles turned to a gasp as he smoothed his right hand swiftly over my pelvis and slipped two fingers inside of me, taking up a slow, stroking rhythm that had my fingernails digging into his back.
“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his eyes intense upon mine.
I got my arms around his neck and held tightly, studying him just as intently. My breath came faster and faster but I didn’t close my eyes. I couldn’t bear to not see him, even for a second. I held to him and his eyes drove into mine. I knew he sensed this and felt the same.
“Of course…I am,” I managed to say, hardly able to breathe. “You’re touching me…”
He kissed me then and I spread my legs even further around him, lifting against his hand. He bit my chin, this time the one moving in a path down my center with warm kisses. Lower, over my belly and my pelvis, and then he cupped both hands beneath me.
“You’re so beautiful, like a flower unfolding,” he whispered, stroking sweetly before lifting me to his mouth and opening his lips between my legs. I sounded as though I was hyperventilating as he built the surging sensation in my body, stronger with each incredible pulse; probably if he had neighbors, they would be calling the police at the sounds coming from this trailer.
I clung to the sheet beneath us for dear life, writhing against him, until I could bear it no longer and begged faintly, “Please…oh God, please…”
He responded instantly, moving swiftly back above me, shifting his hips so that he slid deeply, fully inside my body. I moaned at this, curving around him, and he breathed out in a rush against my neck. He held completely still for the space of a heartbeat and ordered hoarsely, “I want you to come again. Oh my God, come again when I’m inside you.”
I couldn’t manage to respond with words, sliding my palms around to pull him even more tightly within. He kissed me, closing his teeth gently around my bottom lip as I moaned and shuddered hard beneath him. He slid both hands down my ribs, taking my hips firmly into his strong grasp, his beautifully-shaped hands that cradled a guitar so lovingly, that held a bow poised so perfectly over the fiddle strings as he called forth a wealth of music. He moved at first slow and steady within me, then faster, and my body responded fiercely, tightening around his as I clung, meeting his deep thrusts.
“Let me…see you…” I gasped into his ear and he knew what I wanted, what I needed, and caught my face in one hand, holding my gaze in his as I held him as closely as two people can be joined. His face was severe with passionate intensity and my heart pulsed with love, just seeing this.
Tish, he said without words. My Patricia…
Case, I said back. And then, in the intensity of the moment, I was overtaken by how I had known him before this, and his long-gone name seared through me. I thought, Cole…
***
Later, we held each other close in the soft light of the lamp, sweating, tangled together, heavy-limbed with satisfaction.
“I could die right now, and I would die happier than I’ve ever been. My life would have been worth it, for these past few hours with you,” he said, and his deep voice was formed around a lump in his throat as he caressed his fingertips down the side of my face and neck, smoothed his palm over my shoulder before cupping my breast, tenderly, skimming his thumb over my nipple. His hand continued down my ribs, curled around my hip and drew me even closer to him.
“Don’t say that,” I scolded him, my hands on his chest, my own throat thick with emotion. I hooked my right leg more securely around him. “Don’t you dare talk about dying and leaving me. I would die right after that, just so you know.”
“Come here,” he whispered, gently lifting my chin to kiss me soft and sweet.
“I need you, I will never stop needing you,” I told him, my heart surging against his chest. I begged, “Come in me again, oh God, Case, please come inside me again.”
His eyes were so intense that I gasped even before he shifted his strong, nude body, my legs curving instinctively to form a cradle around him as I took him back within me, arching against him with a small, soft cry.
He licked gently along my bottom lip and then murmured against my mouth, “Nothing has ever felt better than you in my arms. I want you to know that.”
In the dimness of the little bedroom, linked as closely as we were able, we held utterly still for a second in time, clinging together. I could feel his heartbeat, matching the increasing pace of my own. He smoothed hair from my forehead, studying me at close range.
“Nothing,” he repeated, so softly.
“Case,” I breathed, shifting to take him even deeper. He groaned and took up a steady rhythm. I held his face in my hands and opened my lips, tasting him, taking him into me in every way possible, heart and senses, body and soul. And nothing had ever felt more right.