True Love at Silver Creek Ranch(36)

They put a few bags on the porch, then drove around the barn to the single-wide trailer that was used for storage. Adam didn’t speak, and neither did Brooke, but he couldn’t quite read the tension shimmering between them.

At the trailer, she unlocked the door, and he came up the wooden stairs behind her.

She turned around and gave a start. Then she sighed and said tiredly, “Did you have to agree to stay to supper? We’re not doing so well here, you and I.”

As he approached, she backed through the doorway. It was slightly warmer inside, but not much, so he shut the door behind him. He heard her fumbling for the light switch beside the door and caught her hand before she succeeded. Neither of them were wearing gloves, and the shock of skin-on-skin contact was electrifying. Just from touching her hand? he asked himself in disbelief.

“Your mom wants to cook for me from her wheelchair. I should say no?”

“I get it, I know, I’m just . . . upset. Let me turn on the light.”

“There’s a window right here,” he said, his voice growing husky. “She almost saw us kissing in the pickup. Do you want her to see this?”

He turned her around and pushed her up against the door, wishing there were far less bulky clothes between them.

“Adam—” She whispered his name, then broke off.

The last light of day came through the window only faintly, but he could see her wide eyes staring up at him, imagined their hazel swirl of color that kept him so off balance. He didn’t give her a chance to stop him, just leaned in and covered her mouth with his. Everything inside him knew it was wrong, knew he would be embarrassed if Mr. Thalberg discovered what he was doing.

And it didn’t matter, none of it.

All he wanted was to taste her, to lick her lips, to meet her tongue with his own. She tasted of the sweetest sugar with a touch of chocolate.

She moaned and clutched him hard against her. He buried his face against her hair, tempted to pull it down around him, but stopped himself. He nuzzled the sweet-smelling spot behind her neck, licked his way in a path down her neck. She tilted back her head, letting him do what he wanted. There was that citrus scent of summer nights at the equator. He inhaled deeply, letting the smell fill him.

He moved his hands up between their bodies until he reached the zipper of her coat. The sound of it slowly coming down was loud except for their frantic breathing. The coat parted, and he was able to slide his hands around her warm waist, feel the supple movement of her back as she arched with a gasp. He kissed every part of her face as he grabbed handfuls of her shirt in back, lifting up until he could slide his hands beneath to the hot, smooth skin.

They shared a groan and another kiss, and then she was fumbling at the snaps of his jacket, and he was so impatient he could have ripped the thing off himself. But he felt her hands up under his flannel shirt and t-shirt, caressing, skimming. Her fingers were slightly cold, sending a chill of excitement through him.

Against his mouth, she whispered, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“No.” But he kept kissing her, over and over. He let one hand slide over the curve of her hip, palming her backside to hold her to him. He slid his other hand slowly up her front, tracing the line of buttons, taking his time in anticipation. He let the back of his knuckles brush over her breast and was rewarded with her groan.

“Adam.”

His name on her lips was a breath of sound, of need, and he cupped her breast, pressed his hips against hers as he explored the thin bra that revealed the hard point of her nipple. He imagined the pretty underwear she’d mentioned, and he started to unbutton her shirt so he could see.

“Whoa,” she said, suddenly putting her hands flat against his chest. “My mom is waiting for us.”

He kissed her cheek, her brow, and murmured, “Is that the only reason you’re stopping us?”

Her hesitation was the only answer he needed, and he kissed her again, deeply, before stepping back.

“Adam . . .” she began, even as she tried to zip up her coat.

Her fingers were trembling so much that he brushed them aside and zipped her up himself. Then he cupped her face in his hands and gently kissed her again.

“Oh, Adam,” she breathed, sounding forlorn.

“I know. This is wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

She flipped on the light and opened the door again. “You said it right the first time. This is wrong. It’s only happening because we each haven’t had anybody in a long time.”

“I haven’t said that. I have a different woman every week.” He teased her and didn’t know where that came from.

She stared into his eyes without any humor at all. “I don’t think so. In fact, I don’t think you’ve kissed a woman in a long time. And I’m convenient.”