Chapter 13

Thirteen

H enry

The drive back to the farm is a little slower than the drive to the garden center, with the truck bed weighed down with all the accessories we’re going to need to do all the things Jane thinks we need to do.

But it’s fine with me if we go slow. We stop to pick up an egg McMuffin on the way back and continue our talk.

I tell her all about my upbringing, how my uncle raised me, how he was never happy, and always trying to get rich quick. How Jet’s grandma did a better job of raising me than my uncle.

For Jane’s part, she tells me some more about Carl, and I listen.

“The worst part was the rumors. When he said Sarah wasn’t his. But then he turned on a dime when he thought he could use Sarah to his advantage. It was just despicable. I sometimes worry he’s going to track me down and try to get her back. She barely knows him. That’s why—I don’t know if you noticed—I was a little freaked out when the doorbell rang when the food arrived. He’s texted me a few times since the move. He’s not a good guy, Henry.”

“Do you have those messages? Read them to me,” I say. She does, and they are every bit as awful as I’d imagined.

Bring her back today and I won’t charge you with kidnapping.

And another one: Do you know I can have you declared an unfit mother? I have money for a lawyer and you don’t.

And finally, one that takes the cake: S arah might not be mine, knowing what a slut you are. I mean, you did move in with me less than 24 hours after I bought you that drink. But I’ll do you a favor. I’m sure you’d be happy to get rid of her so you can keep messing around and preying on other rich guys, so feel free to bring her back. I’ll take her off your hands. I’m generous like that.

The rage building inside me, I can’t even describe it. “I’m going back to the craft store and buying supplies to build a homemade trebuchet so I can personally fling Carl directly into the sun.”

The tinkling laughter that comes from her does not match the full range of emotions I’m having at the moment. I’m veering between rage and disgust and contempt.

“No, really. I hate that guy.”

“I know. I appreciate that so much. It’s one thing to privately bash Carl with Rocket, but it’s another thing to be so out loud about it with you. I can’t let Sarah hear me talk shit.”

My feelings are all fighting each other and I don’t know what to do with myself. Something is coming out and I have to express it. I don’t know what it is, but I do know that I have to pull over.

I pull the truck over to the side of the road at the nearest stand of trees. When I slide the transmission into park, she asks, “What are you?—“

But she doesn’t get to finish because my lips are in the way. My kiss is not sweet and sensual the way I kissed her last night. This is a deep, forceful, owning, possessing kind of kiss. The kind of kiss that comes from my toes. The kind of kiss that’s the only way to express what I’m feeling. That she is worthy. That she doesn’t deserve any of that. That she’s mine now. That she and Sarah are both mine. That I am not in control of my emotions and I don’t want to be in control of my emotions anymore.

I drive my mouth over hers and feel her body go rigid against me in surprise before she relaxes and kisses me back.

That’s it, girl. Take it. Take all of me. Nobody is going to kiss you like this ever again. I’m leaving my mark of protection on you. I push my tongue into her mouth, not hesitantly, not testing her. I just have to own her mouth. She lets me in without a pause, but with a small moan. Her moans alternate between surprise and release.

She breaks the kiss to look into my eyes. The reflection I see back is one of wonder and fear.

“Don’t be afraid. That whole story made me feel things, and all I want to do is make the memory of that guy disappear. I know it’s wrong to say I want Sarah’s dad to disappear, but fuck that guy.”

Jane puts her fingers to my lips. “No, it’s OK. Fuck that guy. He doesn’t exist. I don’t give a fuck, I just want you to kiss me like that again.”

This time it’s me who moans into her mouth. Her tongue is heaven inside my mouth, teasing me, tasting me, bewitching me. She transforms my rage into arousal. We’re both so lost in the roaming hands and tangling of tongues that our teeth, noses, and bodies jumble together and we don’t even stop to laugh at ourselves. We are two people grasping for each other like we’ve found something that makes sense in a world that’s dealt us unfair hands.

“Baby, I need to touch you,” I rumble against her throat before I lick her soft skin, then carefully suck, but not enough to leave a mark.

“I’m going to scream if you don’t,” she says.

We keep kissing and add in heavy stroking. My hands on her breasts, squeezing them through her flannel shirt. Her hands stroking my jaw, stroking my hair, occasionally pulling it, light fires in the darkest corners of my heart and soul.

I hastily unbutton her shirt while we kiss, and I slip my hand inside, feeling the smooth cotton of her thin t-shirt under my palm. She lets out a small whimper when my fingers stroke her nipple into a tight peak through the fabric.

She pulls away from the kiss, her fingers fisting the waffle-knit shirt at my waist. Jane’s face is flushed as her chest rises and falls with her rapid breathing. I reach back and pull the shirt over my head and toss it into the back. Her eyes rake over me, both of us breathless and licking our lips.

“What are you waiting for? Touch it. It’s yours.”

Her eyes roam over my chest and her hands follow. Our mouths come together again as her hands travel down my stomach and up the sides of my chest. I tug at the hem of her shirt. I need to get closer. My hands find her breasts under the shirt, the smooth fabric of her bra bringing up all kinds of deeper, darker desires that can’t be met in the cab of my truck.

“Babe. I want to keep kissing you, but I don’t want our first time together to be out in the open like this. Things are about to get really out of control.”

She pulls away and shoots me a wicked grin. “You’re right,” she says. “We should wait until Saturday night. The waiting will make it even better.”