Harmony for Christmas (Dansboro Crossing #4)

Chapter 11

eleven

HARMONY

I am attacking this ice like my life depends on it. My sanity might very well. Beau Rayburn should come with a warning label. Ride at your own risk. I’m sore, tired, and can’t wait for more. That’s right, I ripped that fourth wall right down. I don’t know if that’s a thing, but it should be. Sex should be labeled the fourth wall. Spread the word. I just took a sledgehammer to that bitch.

“Slow down before you lose a leg,” he says next to me. I know I make him nervous swinging this thing around.

“Fine, here. I’m going to go make a fucking snow angel.” At least the snow should cool me off a little.

“Damn, you get a little and turn into a sailor,” he teases. Taking the axe, he takes over where I left off. I flop backward into the snow. Okay, it’s more like ice, but at least it’s cold. I spread my legs and brush my arms in an arc. Beau stops chopping to watch me. “Now moan ‘more, Beau.’” I glare at him. He just laughs and goes back to chopping.

I do several more rounds of ground calisthenics before stopping. I’m panting from the exertion in the cold. My legs are still spread eagle while I lay on the ground. A shadow crosses over my body. Opening my eyes, I find Beau standing over me with a serious look on his face.

“Remember that pose. That’s what I need from you this afternoon.” I throw a fistful of snow at him. Most of it just blows back in my face. Laughing again, he reaches down to help me up. I let him pull me off the ground and into his arms. “This isn’t going to get awkward, is it?”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re going to let it,” I answer again his chest.

“Good. I don’t want you regretting anything. You can put the brakes on if you want, but never regrets.”

“I guess that depends on how good you are at eating pussy.” A deep rumble spills up from his chest.

“Like my life depends on it,” he says.

“Yeah, well, put your money where your mouth is.” Is it possible to be any clearer what I’m wanting the second we walk back into that house?

“Or I can put it somewhere better.”

“Your mouth?” I’m kidding, I know what he means.

“My mouth.” The words still send a shiver down my body. “Are you cold?”

“Yeah, let’s go with that.” Who would have thought I would turn into a sex fiend. It has to be more than that. Could I be falling for Beau? Of course I am, which is going to suck when I head back to Nashville.

He moves me to the tractor and helps me up the steps. I settle back on his lap. Snuggling against him, I press kisses to his neck.

He finishes chopping up the rest of the ice while I watch from the cab. It’s still cold, but at least it hasn’t started snowing again. When we get back, he pulls the tractor into the barn. After helping me down, he checks on the horses.

“I can hear your stomach rumbling,” he says as we walk to the house. “How does stew again sound?”

“Good.” We walk in the house to Reacher’s enthusiastic greeting. Beau sends him outside for a few minutes while we remove all the outer layers of clothes.

“Work on the fire, and I’ll put the stew on,” he says.

I toss several more logs on to take the chill out of the room. There’s a bark at the door, and Reacher runs in to find me a few minutes after. We both sit by the fire to warm up.

Beau carries two bowls of stew into the living room for us. I move to the bed, and he hands me one. It’s finally getting warm in here.

He takes our empty dishes to the kitchen when we’re done. I can hear him putting the kettle on for dish water. It’s like living in the old west. My belly is full of stew, the room is finally warm, and I can barely keep my eyes open. Kicking off my jeans, I curl up under the covers.

My mind drifts over everything that’s happened since I’ve been here. It’s crazy, but I can‘t remember ever being this happy. Not in a long time anyway. The last thing I feel before drifting off is the bed dip and a warm man nestle up behind me. With Beau on one side and Reacher on the other, I drift into a deep sleep.

I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when something pulls me from a dream. It’s not an unpleasant jolt from sleep, it’s more like a lovely sensation through my body. My mind floats awake. I’m lying on my back with someone between my legs. My back arches as Beau’s tongue sweeps through my folds. It’s a pretty damn good way to be woken up.

“Beau,” I moan, sweeping the covers back. I want to see him at work. His dark gaze meets mine from between my thighs. His head lowers again as he returns to his work. I gasp when his tongue swipes over my clit. Slapping his head with my hand, I fist a handful of his hair. My hips rise off the mattress to meet his hungry mouth.

Gently, he sucks my nub between his lips, and I try to squirm away. His strong arm presses me down to hold me in place. I want to protest, it’s almost too much. But my words fail me this time. There’s only one word on my lips.

“Beau,” I pant. A thumb takes over as his tongue slides inside me. I don’t know if it’s the new sensation or his rumbling growl that makes me let go.

I float through waves as my mouth opens in a silent scream. I want more while at the same time needing less. He brings me down slowly until I’m nothing more than bones spread on the bed. His lips place a soft kiss on my stomach.

“Beau,” I sigh this time.

“I like how you say my name.” His head rests on my abdomen. My hand runs through his soft hair, a little more gently this time. We lay still simply enjoying being together. I know it can’t last. I have a tour to complete, and he has a ranch to run. But, for right now, I can pretend. I can pretend this bubble is how it will always be between us.

“I should get the chores done before it gets dark,” he says. He doesn’t move as my hands continue raking my fingers through his hair. Finally, he sighs and pushes to his knees.

“What can I do to help?”

“Stay warm. I won’t be very long.” He gets off the bed. I suppress the urge to pull him back down on top of me.

“I’ll have something hot for you when you get done.” I’m talking about a drink, but he shoots me a smirk. My face grows red. Before I can stammer out something stupid, he walks to the mudroom. He whistles, and Reacher follows him out.

As much as I’d love to stay here in my post sex stupor, I’m sure there’s something I can do to help. I swing to a sitting position, and my gaze lands on those pesky presents under the tree. Nope, I can resist. But what am I going to do for a Christmas present for Beau. It’s not like there’s anything in my suitcase he’d want.

I pull one of the blankets around me when I stand up. Maybe I can find inspiration somewhere in this house. After a quick spin around the living room, I walk down the hall to his bedroom.

My hand freezes on the door handle. It will be the first time I’ll see this room, and it feels like I’m breaking a confidence. Well, I guess if he’s got a stack of skinsuits in his closet, I might as well find out now.

Pushing the door open slowly, I take a look around. I don’t know what I’m expecting. It looks like any man’s bedroom. The furniture looks like it came from a discount store.

There’s a gray comforter on the bed and a large framed black and white scenery photo over it. The only thing with much color is the large area rug in deep shades of reds, blues, and greens. Not much of inspiration in here.

There’s one other place I can look. Walking around the bed, I stop in front of the nightstand. There’s a book on top with a bookmark holding his place. Not a serial killer then. Everyone knows dog-earring a book is one of the signs.

I pull out the drawer on top. It’s filled with what looks like the stash of an elementary kid. Keys, a video game, lube (okay, maybe not elementary), and a handful of trinkets. Under all of it are several photos of Beau and his brother. It’s the first photos I’ve seen of them as adults.

That gives me an idea. It’s childish, but I could use some of the leftover craft supplies to make frames for his office. That wall of photos really needs updating.

I gather up the photos and close the drawer. The rest of the nightstand doesn’t have much in it at all. Taking the photos, I return to the kitchen. It didn’t take long to get chilled in that part of the house.

I sit at the table and dig through the art supplies. By the time Beau comes stomping back in the mudroom, I’ve created several frames. They’re wrapped and sitting under the tree. Quickly, I turn on the stove for hot water. I hear a load of wood hit the stack.

“It’s still freezing out there,” he says, stepping into the kitchen. Reacher trots in behind him with his tail wagging. I automatically reach for one of the treats in the jar on the counter.

“Figured you’d bring some more wood with you?” He smirks. Oh Lord. “Go ahead and say it.”

“Nah, it’s too easy.” I stand with my arms crossed and stare at him. His grin grows broader. “I’ve got your wood right here.” Yeah, I set him up. I roll my eyes anyway. “Any requests for dinner?” I thrust a cup of tea into his hands.

“Anything sounds good.” My stomach growls in agreement.

“How about you? You’d be good for dinner.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me on to his lap as he sits at the table. Somehow, he manages not to burn either of us with his tea. I can’t say I disagree with his statement. I wouldn’t mind being feasted on for dinner. But we can’t exist on sex alone. Right?

“I’m being serious,” I say.

“So am I,” he counters. “Fine, you can be dessert.”

We decide on making a pizza. Beau has all the ingredients, and the oven is gas. He has to practically climb in it to start the pilot light again.

He produces a pizza stone from one of the cabinets. It makes me wonder how much time he actually spends in the kitchen. I don’t even have a pizza stone. Of course, I order in most of what I eat now. When it’s ready, we take it into the living room and eat it while flopped on the couch.

“Last piece?” he offers.

“There’s no way any more will fit in here.” I lay back on the couch and rub my stomach for emphasis. “I think we’re going to have to let it settle before moving onto dessert.” After all, there is nothing remotely sexy about belching pizza in the middle of love making.

“Probably not a bad idea. Nothing crushes an orgasm like seeing pizza coming back up.” He sets the pan with the remaining piece on the coffee table. Reacher snarfs it down in two bites. “We’re not going to want him sleeping with us tonight either.” The dog puffs out a round of gas and looks at us over his shoulder.

“Nice.” I push up until I’m resting against the back of the pull-out couch. “What do you want to do until the pizza settles? What about another round of gin?”

Beau moans, but tosses me the cards from the coffee table anyway. I think, secretly, he likes us learning more about each other. Deep down, I think he’s a romantic.