Keeping What's His(26)

Tate cast his own line. “I hope you do that with men, too.”





Chapter 18



Sutton stared out at the rainy day, feeling as if she were about to climb the walls. Knox had stopped by the night before to tell them forensics should be back on the bullets today. If they came back that they were from the same gun, then he would officially clear Tate. That meant he would be going home either tonight or in the morning.

She put her hands in the back pocket of her cut-offs, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, counting to herself. Her counselor had told her it would ease anxiety from a stressful situation. It wasn’t working. Her mind was debating why she should or shouldn’t sleep with Tate.

Beginning a new relationship frightened the hell out of her, especially one that hadn’t ended well the first time. He was being so gentle and attentive to her. She wanted to rub against him and beg him to fuck her. On the other hand, she had hated having sex with Scott. She had naively saved her virginity for the man she had planned to marry. Then, when she’d had sex with him, it had been the biggest let-down she had ever experienced. To be fair, she’d so looked forward to being with Tate that she didn’t know if any man could have lived up to the expectations she set.

Her wedding night had been spent with Scott getting drunk at their wedding. In the hotel room, she had found herself on the bed with her wedding dress pulled up to her hips. It had been over before she had realized it had begun. If she hadn’t felt the pain of his entry, she would have never known she’d had sex.

It had gotten steadily worse each and every time. She had tried everything to psych herself into making it a more enjoyable experience. It had taken the first beating Scott had given her to admit that she had made a mistake. She had blamed herself for the beatings, believing her lack of desire had driven him to act out in frustration.

The counselor had tried to convince her it was Scott, who had made no effort to arouse her, he had been the problem. Sutton had tried to convince herself over and over, but she knew the truth buried deep in her heart. She had never stopped loving Tate, so every time she’d had sex with Scott, she felt she was betraying that love.

Her finger drew a line down the foggy window.

“Want to watch some television?”

She didn’t turn around when she heard Tate come into the room.

“No,” she answered.

“Cards?”

“No.”

“What do you want to do then?”

“I want you to leave me alone. Can I have some peace and quiet?”

“All you had to do was ask.” His quiet voice had her jerking around.

“I’m asking. Okay?” She started to walk by him but he stepped in front of her, blocking her escape.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Tate. I just want to be alone.” Sutton ran her hand through her hair, dislodging the rubber band that held her hair back. Her hair tumbled down to her shoulders.

“Fine. If you don’t want to tell me, then don’t.” He moved to the side to let her pass.

“Quit pacifying me as if I’m a damn child.”

“Then quit acting like one,” he snapped.

She wanted to hit out at him so badly she physically shook. She had to get out of the house, or she would do something she would regret. She turned on her heel, running out the front door as if the cabin was on fire.

“Sutton, it’s raining!”

“Leave me alone!” she screamed back, taking off running, tears falling from her eyes that she couldn’t hold back.

She didn’t know how long she had run until she came to the tree Tate had found her at the last time she had taken off. Her arm circled the tree as she leaned against it, crying. If she had stayed, she would have begged him to make love to her, and she knew Tate well enough that he wouldn’t let her go if she had. She wouldn’t survive if they didn’t make it this time around.

She stayed there until she was able to think straight, trying to figure out what would be the best decision for her. Not Tate or anyone else, just her.

Did she want Tate? Did she want him temporarily or just for the night? One question led to others just as difficult to answer. All the thinking she had been doing hadn’t resolved anything, and she was cold and wet. The rain had plastered her hair to her head and drenched her clothes until her T-shirt and shorts clung to her body.

As she straightened from the tree, her eyes saw the edge of where the bark had been removed. Walking around, she noticed where she had scratched their names into the tree. He had teased her when she had done it.

Her hand went out to trace the initials, smiling when she saw what Tate had whittled into the tree just below their initials. “4-ever.” The marks were new.

Sutton headed home then, nearly slipping and falling several times with her determination to get back to the man who had left his mark, not only on the tree, but her heart. Like the tree, the mark wasn’t going to disappear. It would be there until, like the tree, she was no longer standing.

She was halfway across the driveway when Tate came outside. He was wearing his boots and had put on a plaid shirt, leaving it unbuttoned, and his hat was on his head. Although he had tried to give her time alone, he looked like he had been about to come looking for her, exactly like he always would.

They were old friends and sweethearts. They couldn’t get back what they had shared when they were younger. However, it was time for them to see if the adults they had become could make something more.

“Today’s the seventh anniversary of Valentine’s death,” Sutton admitted as the rain poured down on her while she stared up at him. “I won’t ever let another man hurt me again.”

Tate stood at the end of the porch. Reaching up, he held the edge of the sloping roof, his shirt flapping in the soft summer breeze.

Her eyes dropped to his body, no longer feeling the cold rain as the temperature inside of her body rose.

“That’s fair.”

“You can stay here with me or go home. I’ll leave that up to you.”

“I’ll be staying.”

“So will I. I’m done running from you.”

“Come here.”

The demand in his voice had her putting one foot in front of the other until she found herself running up the steps toward him. She jumped up the last step, and he was waiting to catch her.

She plastered herself against him. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. I plan to keep you.”

“You do?”

“I was stupid enough to let you go once, but I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.” His hands cupped her ass, lifting her into his arms.

Sutton wrapped her legs around his waist, circling his broad shoulders. She loved his shoulders. He was strong, yet his strength didn’t scare her, she felt protected and secure. Over the last ten years, she had proven she could survive the worst life could dish out. It was going to be nice to have someone strong enough to protect her if she needed help.

Tate slung open the screen door, carrying her inside the house. When he started to enter his bedroom, she raised her head.

“My room. I don’t want to have sex on my pap’s bed.”

“Woman, it’s not like he’s here.”

Stubbornly, she shook her head. “My bedroom.”

“All right, but your bed’s small. I’m going to get Greer to go into town and buy us a new bed.”

“Don’t you dare! I’ll never hear the end of it. After Knox calls, we can go into town ourselves, and you can buy me dinner.”

“Let’s see how good you are first.”

Her worries kicked in again at his playful attempt to tease her. Tate set her down on the floor beside the bed.

“You’re soaking wet.” His hands went to her waist, tugging her T-shirt over her head.

Sutton began to shiver, not because the room was cold, but because she was worried Tate wouldn’t enjoy having sex with her. When he unsnapped her bra, she pressed herself against his chest so he couldn’t get a good look at her breasts. Scott had complained they were too small and had wanted her to get a boob job.

Tate didn’t slow down. Unsnapping her shorts, he pulled down them and her panties until all her clothes lay in a puddle at her feet. He then pulled away from her to take the clothes to the bathroom.

She jerked her robe on that was lying at the foot of her bed.

Tate came to a stop when he came back into the bedroom. “The idea was to take everything off, not to put more on.” His eyes searched hers then lingered on her trembling fingers tying the belt in a knot at her waist.

“I was cold.”

“Let’s get you warm, then.” He gave her a leering smile.

Sutton laughed, but it was cut off when his mouth covered hers and his tongue thrust into her mouth, not giving her a chance to think about being nervous.

He picked her up, laying her down on the middle of the bed.

“I like the way you kiss,” she admitted.

Scott had never kissed her after they had married.

Tate threw his hat on her nightstand then jerked off his shirt. When he began to unzip his jeans, her nerves couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wait!”

Tate paused, looking at her questioningly, and Sutton sat up, her hands unconsciously trying to tie the belt at her waist tighter.

“I’m not on the pill. We need to go into town to buy condoms.”