The following few days were uneventful. Nash had done his best to stay clear of Clint. He’d seen Clint once in the grocery store, and Clint scowled in his direction. Nash glared back, and that was that. Except for that slight annoyance, his days were good. He spent the early mornings deep inside Megan when she came home after working her late shift. And he spent the remainder of his day at the ranch, trying to make sure everything worked like clockwork. With the one-star reviews on his mind, he needed a good month of perfection to get some better reviews to outweigh the negative. Everything had fallen back into the normal show . . . until the night of the music festival when Nash, along his brothers, stood dumbfounded as their mother walked down the porch steps of Shep’s farmhouse, with Harper and Emma behind her. Ma wore a white dress with a yellow cardigan. Her hair was down, and there was some sparkle on her eyelids. Nash blinked and squinted a little, barely recognizing his mother.
“You look beautiful, Ma,” said Shep, finally breaking the silence.
Chase whistled.
Ma laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, stop. All this fuss. It’s silly.”
Instinctively Nash wanted to shut this down before it even started. His mother belonged to his father. She was a Blackshaw. But that certain twinkle in her eye had been gone since their father passed. Something deep in his chest split wide open, warming cold spots. Something that had him walking forward. “It’s not silly,” he said before kissing her cheek. “You look really pretty, Ma.”
When he moved away, she gave him a sweet smile. “Thank you. Now can we stop all the fussing and go?”
Shep gave a firm nod and cupped Nash’s uninjured shoulder as he strode by. Obviously, Shep was proud that Nash had kept his mouth shut about their father, letting Ma be happy. Damn. There Nash went, being all soft again.
Megan. Yeah, she did this to him. But this was a change he didn’t mind. She was good for him. He’d always known she would be.
Twenty minutes later, Nash leaned against one of the shade trees in the park, taking in the festival. Straight ahead was the Kinky Spurs band playing a Tim McGraw cover. The crowd was positioned around the stage, either dancing on the dance floor or sitting on the grass or the picnic tables spread throughout the grounds. The food trucks were off to the right, and a small area of vendors set up selling their homemade items. To the left were the breweries, all serving up the best beer. Three Chicks Brewery always drew a big crowd, not only for the beers but because the three Carter sisters who owned the brewery were easy on the eyes. Chase had dated the middle sister, Amelia, for a short time in high school.
Nash was huddled next to his family. Shep and Chase were sitting on top of the picnic table, while Harper and Emma sat on the bench. They had been chatting for the last half hour about Emma’s ideas for her and Shep’s honeymoon in a couple of months once work settled down. A trip to Maui was at the top of that list.
Ahead of Nash was a view that he’d been trying not to pay much attention to, but failing miserably. His mother stood close to the doctor. She held a glass of wine in one hand and her other hand kept reaching out and touching the dear doctor every time Clay made her laugh. Which was a lot.
“She seems happy.”
Nash’s chest warmed, and he smiled, reaching for Megan and pulling her in close. Her flowery perfume infused the air and he drank it in. She wore black stretchy pants and a long purple blouse with black flat shoes. She was a jeans-and-tank-top type of girl, so the look lifted his eyebrow.
“Yeah, I know,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I can’t wear jeans anymore. They’re uncomfortable.”
“Ah.” He gave her a quick kiss, loving how she reached for more. “Blackshaws are strong. My boy is getting bigger every day.”
She gave him a cute, easy smile. “And how do you know it’s a boy?”
He didn’t, of course. Still . . . “Call it a gut feeling.”
She laughed softly and shook her head, then rose up on her tiptoes, bringing her mouth closer. Yeah, he wanted more too. Her hands spread out on his chest while he dropped his head and kissed her again. He kept the kiss short and sweet, knowing the whole town was likely watching them.
He leaned away to kiss her forehead. Yup, people were watching. The gossipers in town, for sure. Not like he gave a shit. He wanted everyone to know they were together now and she carried his child. And that they were a strong, solid front. Christ, he liked that a lot more than he anticipated. Damn. He was becoming sappy, for fuck’s sake.
“You’re really okay with this?”
He looked down into Megan’s pretty eyes that were all for him, sliding his knuckles across her cheek. “Okay with what?”
She gestured straight ahead with a knowing look. “With your mom dating again?”
At that, he arched an eyebrow. “You think I wouldn’t be okay with her dating again?”
“Oh, hell, yes, I know you would normally hate this.” She nodded firmly. “You’re not the most flexible when it comes to your family.”
That was true. Keeping his arms tight around Megan, he looked at his mother again. At her smile. “My dad would want this for her.” He leaned back down to Megan again and gave her a knowing smile right back. “There are times I know when to keep my mouth shut. And this so happens to be one of those times.”
“Sometimes, Nash Blackshaw, you surprise the hell out of me.” She went up on her tiptoes again and warmed him with her kiss. A little too warm for a crowd. When she broke away, they were both breathless. “You’re a good man.”
She momentarily stunned him with those words, and he felt like the world suddenly stopped turning. It’d been a long time since someone had told him he was a good man. Truth be told, after the accident, he’d half-assed life, and he knew why. To avoid the misery sitting even now in the center of his chest. That pain was there, squeezing and pulsing, threatening to drown him. Though over the last few weeks, something had changed.
He could see past that pain.
And that felt good.
Real good.
The music suddenly shifted to a slow song, and Nash took Megan’s hand.
She dug in her heels. “Um, no.”
“Oh, yeah, baby, we’re doing this.” He grinned back and tugged her forward until they were in front of the band. Alone. The entire town watched them. Megan’s cheeks were bright red when he pulled her in close, taking her hand and tucking his head into her neck. She smelled like flowers and sugar and his. He pressed a kiss to her pulse, finding her heart rate hammering. That made him smile.
“Relax,” he said softly in her ear. “Be here with me.”
“You and the entire town,” she muttered.
He chuckled and went to look into those fiery eyes of hers. When he did, his gaze connected with Clint standing across the park. Megan’s mother was chatting it up with someone. Probably about Megan’s pregnancy. Clint, on the other hand, glared right at Nash.
Nash brought Megan even closer, sprawling his hand across her lower back. Suddenly, something occurred to Nash. Before now, he’d have made a statement to Clint, showing Clint that Megan was his now. He would have glared back. He’d never have looked away first in their staredown. It was an unspoken show of weakness.
But everything was different now. Especially with this sweet woman against him, thinking he was a good man. Nothing else mattered but that.
Nash brushed his lips against Megan’s pulse again, and she shivered, all but vibrating in his arms. He swayed their hips together, keeping to the rhythm of the beat. There was a certain peace he’d found in the quiet with her. His life, including his relationship with Megan, had been a struggle from day one. A push and pull. And yet, he always thought the quiet would bore him.
He’d never been so wrong.
Nash slid his fingers slowly up and down her back, and she melted into him. Christ, he loved when she did that.
“You’re vibrating,” she said, breaking the silence.
He nipped her earlobe, and she shivered again. “That’s you vibrating, Freckles.”
She laughed softly, moved away, and gave him a cute look. “No, your phone is vibrating.”
Damn. He realized she was right. His cell rang in his pocket. He grabbed his phone and looked at the screen. Beckett. “What’s up?” Nash answered the phone.
“Hey, Nash. You gotta get out to the ranch,” Beckett said, voice strained. “The guests have food poisoning.”
“The guests?” All the heat Megan had stirred in Nash now became ice cold. “Not all of them.”
A pause. Then, confirming Nash’s worst thought, Beckett said, “Buddy, it’s bad. You need to get here. Now.”
The line went dead, and Nash reached for Megan’s hand. “Trouble at the ranch.” He beelined for Shep.
Megan dug in her heels a little. “What happened?”
“The guests have food poisoning.” He hurried to Shep but first said to Megan, “Please stay with Ma.” The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his mother’s night. But he also didn’t want to leave her alone.
Megan nodded, concern heavy in her eyes. “Yes, of course I will.”
Shep was already rising from the picnic bench. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a problem at the ranch. We need to go.”
Chase dropped a kiss to Harper’s forehead. “Stay with Megan.” He grabbed his keys from his pocket. “Take Ma home later.”
“Yeah, okay,” Harper said, brows furrowed tight.
With the music now a loud hum in Nash’s ears, he worked his way through the crowd. Once he made it to the food trucks, Shep, Emma, and Chase caught up with him.
“Is it bad?” Shep asked.
Nash hurried forward. “Yeah, it’s bad.”
Minutes later, they were in Nash’s truck. He explained what Beckett had told him on the phone, and then there was silence. Heavy silence. The kind of silence where deep worry lived.
By the time they finally made it to the ranch, the scene was worse than Nash had imagined. Twenty cars were there, including police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks. But the bigger issue was the little kids vomiting into plastic bags, and the guests being put into cars and ambulances, obviously on their way to the hospital.
Nash slammed the truck’s door behind him and jogged toward Beckett. “What in the fuck happened?” he demanded.
Beckett took off his cowboy hat and ran a hand over his hair, concern tightening the corners of his eyes. “I haven’t a fucking clue. We had dinner, like usual. Everyone was fine. Then as I was about to leave for the night, I saw a few people running for the bathroom”—he paused and then cringed—“and then all hell broke loose.”
Nash glanced over Beckett’s face. “You don’t look sick.”
“I’ve got a date later, so I didn’t eat the dinner.” He replaced his hat and frowned. “And I’m thanking God for that.” He gestured behind him at Hayes, who was hurling into Ma’s potted plant. “Hayes wasn’t so lucky.”
“Jesus,” Nash breathed.
Beckett nodded. “I called in as many people as I knew who wouldn’t mind transporting the guests to the hospital.” He glanced out at the sight of pure chaos. “I believe we’ve got enough drivers now.”
Nash cupped Beckett’s shoulder. “Damn, I owe you. Thank you for handling this.”
“You’re welcome, buddy.” Beckett gave a tight grin. “Now, if you’re back, I’m outta here. I’ve had enough of watching people vomit.”
Nash just inclined his head then watched Shep, Emma, and Chase move to the sick guests sitting on the porch. They weren’t vomiting, but they looked about a second away from it.
“It was the beef.”
Nash glanced over his shoulder, finding Darryl, a cop with River Rock’s police department, and a guy who was in the same graduating class as Chase in high school. He was in shape, he had a scruffy beard and dark hard eyes, and his expression was about as grim as Nash had ever seen. “The beef?”
Darryl nodded and leaned against the car closest to him. “After talking to the guests, everyone who got sick ate one common food. The beef.”
“That’s impossible,” Nash insisted. The beef they served at the guest ranch came directly from Blackshaw’s Meat Company downtown.
Darryl gave a knowing look. “I’m not sure what to tell you, Nash. The beef seems to be the culprit. I’ve sent some samples off for testing, so we’ll know for sure in about a week.”
Fuck.
A poor little girl violently retched into a bag then cried for her mother. This was bad. The same cold shiver ran up his spine as it had with the fire. “Do me a favor. When you test that beef, can you test it for any drugs or chemicals?”
Darryl’s brows rose. “You think someone purposely did this to these poor people?”
“I have suspicions, yes.” No, he knew full well someone was trying to sabotage the guest ranch. Before he’d had suspicions, and now they were confirmed. Blackshaw Cattle Company was top-notch. They wouldn’t have bad beef. And that wasn’t ego talking. That was fact. He simply didn’t feel the need to explain all that to Darryl right now. “Besides, the fire marshal thought the fire seemed purposely set.”
Darryl nodded. “Yeah, I heard that, but he also told me that while they found the gas tanks, they couldn’t find evidence of who planted them.” When Nash parted his lips, Darryl lifted a hand. “I’ll look into it, Nash. The fire, now this, it’s a little too coincidental for my liking too.” He paused to study Nash, then cocked his head and asked, “Tell me this, though: Have you done something to piss anyone off lately?”
Nash snorted. “Knocked up Clint Harrison’s daughter.”
Darryl’s mouth twitched. Obviously he had already heard the news. “While Clint’s a . . .” the side of his mouth curved, “. . . tough nut, I doubt he’d stoop this low.”
“When a man is pushed hard enough, you don’t know what he could do,” Nash muttered beneath his breath, even though Nash hard trouble picturing Clint wanting the land bad enough that he’d poison people. Cutting the fence, yeah, that stank of Clint. But this move seemed desperate. And Clint wasn’t a desperate man.
Darryl’s hard-cop expression slid back into place. “You have no other enemies. You or your brothers?”
“No.”
Darryl cringed as a woman walked by and threw up into a plastic bag before getting into one of Beckett’s friends’ cars. “Yeah, I’ll definitely get the lab to test the meat for any evidence that it’s been tampered with.”
“Thank you.” Nash offered his hand. “Really. I appreciate it.”
Darryl returned the handshake then glanced at the little girl being sick who Nash had noticed earlier. He frowned back at Nash. “When you get a chance, can you shoot me over the names of your employees? I’ll look into them, just in case.”
The thought made Nash’s stomach roil. “Yeah, I can, but let’s hope that’s not the case.”
Darryl gave a measured look and moved away from the car. “Sadly, most times, it’s the people closest to you that burn you.”
He seemed to be talking from experience, but Nash kept the thought to himself as Darryl turned away, heading to his cruiser. When Nash focused back on the guests, most of the cars had cleared out, along with the few ambulances. He moved to Shep, Emma, and Chase, who stood at the front of the house. “Darryl thinks it was the beef,” he said when he reached them.
“Not our beef,” Shep said.
Nash sighed, seeing on his brothers’ faces the shock he felt himself. “Now do you believe me?” Nash knew it down to his bones. Someone was dead set on ruining their good name. Though, while he suspected Clint had some involvement, this time he was wise enough not to say the bastard’s name.
Shep’s lips pressed into a firm line. “Before I had doubts, but now . . .” He cocked his head. “Darryl really said it was our beef?”
Nash nodded.
“Well, fuck,” Chase muttered. “We all know contaminated beef would never get through the company.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Nash agreed.
There was a long pause. Emma stared at all of them for answers that no one seemed to have. All Nash knew was that he wanted Megan there. And yet, at the same time, he wasn’t sure he could hide the fact that he thought her father was behind this.
His chest began to tighten. Air seemed impossible to inhale.
The loaded silence continued, filled with so many unanswered questions, until Chase asked, “How do we even begin to fix this?”
They all looked to Emma.
She gave a tight smiled and pointed to herself. “Marketing expert, right?”
Shep slid an arm around her. “It is your area of expertise, beautiful.”
She smiled warmly at him then tapped a finger against her lip. “All right. Here’s what we’ll do.” Bright-eyed, she glanced between them. “We contact the newspaper.”
Nash snorted. “We’re trying to avoid the media, Emma, not seek them out.”
“But that could bite us in the ass,” she countered. “We need to get ahead of this story and control the narrative. So, let’s contact that reporter who did such an amazing story on the ranch before. We can give her a quote that we take this matter very seriously. That we are investigating fully and will report our findings when we have them.”
Chase frowned. “Is that wise? What if it comes back that the meat was actually contaminated?”
Emma glanced at Nash. “Any chance you’re wrong about someone being behind this?”
“No,” he said, adamant.
She smiled at him. A soft, sweet smile that was the embodiment of her kind soul. “Then we have nothing to worry about.”
Shep studied her, then Nash, and finally gave a firm nod. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
A sinking coldness washed over Nash with the responsibility that Emma had just put on his head, no matter if she was merely trying to show her trust in him. If he was wrong, they were fucked. Even more than they already were.
“Let me know what you need from me.” Nash’s gut twisted as he turned to get away from it all. Unable to find words to explain the shit eating him up, he walked away.
“You all right?” Shep called.
No, he was anything but all right. All he wanted was not to blame Clint, to keep the peace between them, but he was sure as shit Megan’s father had a hand in this somehow. On top of that, the person who had set the fire and poisoned the guests today could very likely be someone Nash trusted. Someone his mother was friendly with. “I need to go feed the cats,” he said, not looking back. They’d left them at home to go to the music festival, full of food and safe in his laundry room, sleeping on blankets.
“Nash,” Chase said, his voice tight with worry.
He kept walking. His chest was constricted, limbs cold. For a moment tonight, he’d tasted happiness. For a sweet moment. Then Clint was back fucking everything up, and so was the harsh reminder that happiness was a prickly bitch.
* * *
The fun day at the musical festival ended before it could even get started. Jenny had noticed her sons’ disappearance half an hour after they left. One phone call to Shep, and Jenny and the doctor had gone to the hospital to help the sick guests. Megan had Harper drop her off at Kinky Spurs for her shift that night.
Megan had texted Nash: Do you need me?
He replied: Later, I will. Enjoy your shift.
She left Nash alone after that. Her fingers itched to dial his phone number, but she imagined he was knee-deep in shit. Maybe even literally.
Throughout her entire shift she considered going to talk to her father and asking for the down payment for the house. Until she remembered how much she hated that idea.
And by the time she left the Spurs around midnight in the hands of Bethany to close the bar, she was damn happy she’d been working, instead of asking things from her father that she would’ve regretted.
Twenty minutes after leaving the Spurs, Megan returned to Nash’s house, dragging her sore, swollen feet in her flats against the gravel driveway. Before the baby, she’d loved manning the bar during the busiest hours. Now, not so much. She needed to rethink these late nights. Especially once the baby got there; she knew she couldn’t stay out all night and sleep late into the day. Besides, the Spurs was likely as successful as it was ever going to get. She made decent money after all her overhead. And she had a solid team who could run the late-night hours without her.
She reached the front door and opened it, feeling immensely better when Gus greeted her. He had Nash’s boot in his mouth. His tail was wagging like he hadn’t seen her in years. She really loved how happy he always seemed to be to see her. With all the anger going on lately, Gus was a breath of fresh air, no matter that Gus gave Nash grief by ignoring him.
“I’m happy to see you too,” she told Gus, giving him a kiss on his big square head.
He shoved the boot in her face.
“Daddy might kill you if he sees this.” She took the boot from Gus’s mouth, placing it back down, then shut the door and kicked off her flats. The light above the kitchen sink was left on, and she noticed a notepad on the kitchen table. She moved there, finding a list of names written in Nash’s handwriting. When she saw Beckett and Hayes’s names, she assumed the names were the guest ranch employees.
Wondering if that list had to do with the guests all coming down with food poisoning, she moved through the log home, her bare feet padding against the hardwood floors, when something on the fireplace mantel caught her eye. As she moved closer, her breath caught in her throat.
She reached for the picture frame there. Nash had developed the photograph he’d taken of her on the porch while she was sitting with Gus. Her hands were on her belly. There was a softness that even she could see. She knew why. She was happy. Nash made her happy . . . and he made her love. Hard.
Needing to get against all his warmth, she moved to the bedroom. Gus jumped onto the bed next to Nash’s feet, when another surprise squeezed her heart even more.
Nash slept with one arm tucked behind his head and the sheets rested low along his hip. Okay, sure, that view alone was breathtaking. Nash was a fine specimen of man and his muscles from being a hardworking cowboy were H-O-T. But that wasn’t what nearly melted her bones. Tucked into Nash’s side were not only the kittens, but the mother cat too. Megan stepped closer, and the moment she did, her foot squeaked against the floorboard.
Nash opened his eyes. She cringed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s—” He paused and looked down at his arm. “What the . . . ?” He looked at Megan again and frowned. “Tell no one about this.”
She laughed then sat on the bed next to him. “Don’t worry, your tough-guy image is safe with me.” She reached out to stroke the mom cat’s head, feeling so emotionally tied to her. “I didn’t know you were picking her up today.”
“I hadn’t planned to.” Nash leaned up a little, resting his head on his hand, flexing that yummy bicep. “I also hadn’t planned to have them sleeping with me. Jesus, she must have jumped on the bed with them in her mouth.”
Megan smiled. “Aw, she loves you.” And she wasn’t the only one loving all over him, Megan realized.
Nash frowned at the cat, who yawned up at him. “Don’t get used to this.”
Megan chuckled. “So, I take it Leah called?”
“Yeah, a few hours ago, so I scooted over to grab the cat and bring her home.”
Megan examined the cat. “She looks so much better than the last time I saw her. She’s so bright-eyed.” She even looked like she’d put on a little weight. But maybe that was because she wasn’t dehydrated.
“Yeah, Leah said she’s good,” Nash said with a smile. “She’s able to nurse them now, so we are off the hook on feeding them.”
Megan smiled. “I think I’m going to actually miss that. Little cuties.” She considered asking Nash about the ranch and the guests’ conditions but doubted he’d want to get into all that now. Besides, the hard set of his mouth told her he was stressed. She wanted to take away his strain, not make it worse. The cat began purring like a motorboat, bringing Megan’s attention back to her. “Does this mean you’re keeping them?” Truthfully, Megan had thought she’d have to push a bit more to even get the cat back at his house.
Nash stared down at the pile of fluff curled up against him. Megan got that. She craved being curled up against him too. “I don’t think Gus would ever forgive me if I didn’t.”
Megan stroked Gus’s head while he watched the kittens near his face. “He does seem to love them.”
Nash agreed with a nod. “I thought about keeping them here, but I figured the guest ranch could use some cats.” His gaze connected with Megan’s, and she spotted the warmth.
She knew he’d never admit he had grown fond of the kitties, but he so obviously had. “Oh, they would get so spoiled there.”
“That’s what I thought too,” Nash said. “Leah’s going to fix them for me for a decent price when it’s time, and I’ve asked Chase to build a cat house for them near the cabins.”
Oh, she could not help herself. “A cat house?”
“Don’t even dare give me that look,” Nash muttered. “I will take enough heat from Shep and Chase about this later.”
“You care about them,” she said. A statement, not a question.
He made a masculine sound of disagreement. “Animals should be outside in the nice weather, but everyone needs a place to sleep.”
Megan stopped petting the cat and ran her hand up Nash’s strong arm. “What’s going to happen to them in the winter?”
He narrowed his eyes a little. “You know exactly what will happen.”
Yeah, she did. He’d bring them home. She laughed softly, done with pushing. “It’s sweet you’re making sure they’re happy.”
Of course, his expression showed nothing at all, barely letting her in, which was the norm. Maybe she was getting used to that. Or maybe she saw past that now, because what once bothered her didn’t anymore. She knew this man. All of him. Yeah, Nash had a temper. Sure, he said the most inappropriate things at the wrong time. But he was so damn good, and she was sure he probably didn’t hear that enough.
She focused on the cats again, stroking the mom’s soft fur. “They should have names, if we’re keeping them.”
“Your job, not mine,” Nash said.
“Hmm.” She studied the cats then figured it needed to be a little bit of Nash and a little bit of her. “Let’s go with your favorite drink and mine.”
He gave her a level look. “You want to call one of them Foxy Diva?”
“Well, yeah, it’s your favorite beer.” It was actually the entire town’s favorite beer. “We’ll call the mom Diva.”
“Fitting.” Nash grinned.
She nodded and smiled down at the white cat. “She’s Foxy.” Megan pointed at the black kitten. “Apple, because he’s so damn cute, he’s like the apple of my eye.” And then she gestured at the gray kitten. “Whiskey.” God, she missed her apple whiskey. Like, a lot.
“That works.”
“I think it does too.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Yeah, it was sweet and soft, but there was heat simmering beneath the kiss’s power.
When she broke away, his eyes had heated, and she knew why. His day was shit. He needed her. And she needed him too. She rose to strip off her clothes and settle into bed when she found Gus worming his way into her spot. She snapped her fingers. “Off.”
Gus jumped off then curled up on the rug.
Megan stripped off her pants and shirt, leaving herself in her bra and panties. Though one look into Nash’s dumbfounded expression had her laughing. “What?”
“Gus listened to you.”
She shrugged. “Well, yeah, I already told you I’ve been working with him.” Most nights, she didn’t mind the doggy cuddles, but lately she was just too hot to snuggle.
Nash leaned up on one arm and stared down at Gus sleeping on the rug before looking at her again. “You are so fucking sexy,” he said, dead serious.
“Why? Because your dog listened to me?”
He nodded slowly. “Hell, fucking, yes. Come here.”
Heat filled his expression, and Megan’s nipples hardened into tight peaks. Because that look meant pleasure. So much mind-blowing pleasure. She studied him, all naked in bed, this sweet side of him all exposed. “No, you come here.” She took his hand and tugged.
He wiggled his way free of the cats, who didn’t seem to care at all that he moved, falling back asleep easily. When his feet pressed against the floor, she absorbed the gorgeous view. All muscle. Pure man. Hard and hungry.
“Sweet men deserve sweet things.” She gave him her sexiest grin as she sat on the bed, tugging him closer to stand in front of her. Consumed by him, she took his erection in her hand and kissed the tip of his engorged cock.
His low moan raised goose bumps across her flesh when he brushed his knuckles across her cheek, giving her his cocky smirk. “I’m putting a soft bed in the house for them too.”
“Oh, you are? That’s even sweeter,” she said before taking him deep into her mouth. God, he tasted good. He smelled of masculine perfection and something incredible that belonged entirely to him. Something Megan couldn’t get enough of.
She swirled her mouth and hand over him, relishing the groan falling from his lips. “This is for taking care of the cats when you didn’t need to.” She took him in deep again, working her lips over him, feeding him all the pleasure he deserved. “And this is for giving them a home.” She swirled her tongue around the tip before she worked her mouth and hand over him in a steady rhythm.
Nash watched her movements. Intently. They’d always battled against each other. But this was different. And better—oh, hell, so much better—because in the quiet of where they found happiness, they had also found something so much sweeter. Something that belonged to them. And only them. That no one could take away.
She stroked him harder and dragged her lips faster over his silky shaft. His head tipped back when she took him in deep, and his groan vibrated against her when she pumped her hand.
When he dropped his head again, she licked him from base to tip and smiled against the tip of his cock. “This is all for you.” She worked her mouth over him again, and he grunted, low and deep. “For being sweet in ways I wasn’t expecting. For making me laugh and smile all the time. For being all that I want and need and more.”
Something changed in the air between them. His expression became hard and intense and so damn sexy that she couldn’t play any longer. Apparently, neither could he. Suddenly, she was in his arms, and her back bumped against the wall.
“This is for being you,” he growled. “For driving me crazy. For making me fight for you. For being so goddamn smart and strong and perfect that I want to be a better man. For you. I need you, Megan.”
She cupped his face. “I need you too, Nash. Always.”
A harsh masculine grunt passed through his mouth, and her back arched when he entered her in one swift stroke. After that, there was only pleasure. Raw and real pleasure that didn’t only touch the body, it touched the soul.
Until sweaty, totally satisfied, and breathing deep, Nash gently lowered them back onto the bed, away from the kittens.
Gathering her in his arms, facing her, he nuzzled her neck. “I missed you tonight.”
She slid her fingers across his face, holding him close. “I missed you too.”