The Cowboy’s Mail-Order Bride (The Careys of Cowboy Point Book 1)

Chapter Nine

This kiss was different.

This kiss was scalding, pouring into her and through her, until Kendall wasn’t sure she could survive it.

But then, she was equally unsure if she wanted to.

She knew that the smart thing to do was not to cling to him like this. She knew that the wise move was to pull away, not melt against him.

Then again, this was Harlan.

And Kendall couldn’t bear the thought that this was ending, this thing between them.

Though she knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt and despite any vows this man might like to make, that it was.

She knew exactly what it meant that her mother and sister had found her here. Kendall had understood two things the moment she’d seen them. Before they’d opened up their mouths and confirmed for her, as always, that they were just as awful as she remembered them.

First, that she would do whatever she had to do to make absolutely certain they never made it up the hill to Cowboy Point. Much less onto the ranch.

Second, that she would protect Harlan from them if it was the last thing she did in this life.

And if saving him meant that she had to give him up and go back to them the way she always did, so they would be none the wiser and never know he existed, she would do that, too.

God, she didn’t know how she would do that—

But she would. She could be that strong.

Kendall knew she could, and that she would, but she also knew that she wasn’t strong enough to deny him this.

Not this thing she’d wanted too much and for too long herself. Not this thing that had been brewing between them since the moment she’d stepped into that saloon in Marietta.

Maybe even sooner than that, because she still didn’t know what had compelled her to answer his ad in the first place.

All of this flashed through her in an instant.

And what Kendall thought, above all, was I don’t care about consequences.

Because he was kissing her again. At last.

He was kissing her like this and she wished with every particle of her being that she could kiss him like this forever.

And so, for a moment, Kendall did exactly what she wanted. She stopped worrying. She stopped piecing together her own unpleasant future. She stopped worrying about the same thing she always and ever worried about.

She was here, now.

So she melted into him.

Harlan’s arms came around her immediately. He pulled her up higher against his chest, then lifted her off the ground so he could carry her over and set her on the counter behind them.

Then he stepped between her legs and everything got hotter.

Deeper.

Wilder.

She slid her hands to his jaw, and then she kissed him over and over. It was a glorious thing to hold his face between her hands. To feel the rough texture of his jaw. To run her fingers into that thick, dirty-blond hair that felt so soft against her palms.

Though soft wasn’t quite the right word, because the more she luxuriated in his different textures while his mouth did such marvelous, magical things to hers, the more the fire in her took her over.

The flames seemed to dance and weave over every inch of her body, singeing her from her bones on out.

His hands moved from her back, skimming his way along the sides of her body as if he was learning her in braille. She bloomed beneath his touch, as if she was becoming a brand-new person simply because he was touching her. That he was somehow making her into the wife she ought to be, the one who would deserve to kiss him like this in this kitchen they shared.

She had never wanted anything more than to be that woman. That wife.

Then his hands were on her thighs and that was impossible. Impossibly good. It was a delicious, drugging heat that was almost shocking in its intensity. It was like throwing gasoline on an open flame and until this moment Kendall hadn’t known such a sharp, bright pleasure was possible.

She didn’t know how on earth she was going to survive this.

But the more it went on, the more she figured she actually didn’t want to survive it at all. She wanted to lose herself in this. In him.

She wanted to stay right here. Forever.

And if that wasn’t on offer? Well, she had no one but herself to blame for that. She’d known that going in.

There was no use crying over spilt milk. Especially not when they could be kissing instead.

Still, when he pulled back—his breath coming as heavy and as ragged as hers—she felt more like crying than she ever had in her life.

Maybe she already was.

“You don’t taste like a problem,” Harlan told her, and his voice was a revelation. That same, deep rumble. Maybe a little darker now, and a little deeper. But it was like she could feel his voice in all the places where he’d made her bloom. “You taste like you belong right here, no matter what.”

And that broke her heart in pieces.

She felt her eyes well up with tears all over again, but she couldn’t even muster up her usual horror at that. Maybe she really did trust him.

To be, at the very least, not her mother or sister. He wouldn’t see her tears as a weakness. He wouldn’t use her feelings against her as a weapon.

And even as she thought that, he proved it. Harlan ran his thumb under one eye and then the other. He caught the moisture beneath both.

And then he looked at her as if she was too precious to bear.

Her poor heart was never going to recover.

“I married you under false pretenses,” she told him. She waited for him to react to that, but all he did was stand where he was, pressed up against her here at the counter in their kitchen—his kitchen, she corrected herself—his gaze as steady as before. “I expected you to be sad and weird.”

“And very old.”

“And that.” She swallowed hard. “I figured I could dance around these various intimacies and get a little vacation from my real life either way.”

That intent dark gaze never changed, and yet somehow that felt encouraging. She told herself that the absence of an attack didn’t make something supportive. Not really.

Still, it made her feel safe.

Or he did, so maybe that was the same thing, in the end.

And no wonder she was having trouble recognizing it. When had she ever felt anything even approximating safe before?

But she made herself keep going. “I figured… no harm, no foul. The kind of man who advertises for a wife in a newspaper can’t be too surprised if that wife disappears one day. That’s all I was going to do. Retreat for a while, get back on my feet, lick my wounds a little. And then go. Clean and easy.”

“I sure hope this feeling is as muddy to you as it is to me,” he said then, in that low voice that rumbled all the way through her and made her shivery and hot.

And she suspected he knew it did. It was there in that crook in the corner of his mouth. It was in the way he smoothed his hand over her hair while the other one stayed where it was, hot and heavy on her thigh. High on her thigh.

Not moving, just there.

As if he was claiming her like that.

And the funny thing was, her entire body responded to this—to him, to whatever he was doing, to the fact of him—with delight.

Bright, hot, endless delight.

“Muddier by the second,” she whispered. “But you don’t deserve that.”

“I don’t wait around much, concerned about getting what I deserve,” Harlan drawled. “I make things happen and see where that gets me instead.”

And Kendall wanted to melt into him again. It would be so easy. She felt the pull of him, an irresistible force—

She propped her hands against his chest so she could make her own barrier, if necessary. One she might actually obey.

“Harlan.” His name was starting to feel like its own sort of fire in her mouth, and the way he smiled at her didn’t help. “It never occurred to me that you, a man I met through an ad like that, would be… Well, you. I never thought I’d like your home. Your family. This whole community. I’m not that type of person. I don’t put down roots. The first hint that I might attach to something and I leave.”

“Kendall,” he said softly. “We’re already married. That’s about as attached as you can get.”

“I knew before I started that I was going to go,” she told him, and it felt like the terrible confession it was. “This is what I’m trying to tell you. It wasn’t that I thought I might feel like leaving someday, so I was giving myself an out. It was a plan. I thought it would be a couple of weeks. A month at the most. And here we are coming to the end of July.” She shook her head, much too aware of how hard his chest was beneath her hands, how hot. And how difficult it was to keep her hands in one place instead of letting them wander. “Even if my past hadn’t showed up I’d still be getting out of here. However you look at it, time’s up.”

She expected him to step away, but he didn’t. He was Harlan, so he stepped closer. And as he gathered her up in his arms all over again and kissed her like she hadn’t just said she was leaving him, his taste flooded through her.

But so did the fact of what she’d just told him. The details she’d shared.

Because in a way—in her way—she’d declared her love, hadn’t she?

A Darlington never told anyone their plans. They never let anyone in on their schemes. Accordingly, they had no friends, no intimates, nothing. There was family and then there was everyone else. And family might stab you in the back, but everyone else was a mark.

And yet, somehow, Kendall had carved out a space for Harlan inside of her, separate from either of those.

Not just for Harlan, she realized as she leaned in closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, so she could give as good as she got in this glorious kiss that went on and on and on and used most of both of their bodies.

There was a perfect little mountain valley that she’d fit in to that space between the two extremes that governed her life. She hadn’t even realized she was doing it.

She loved it here.

It was that simple.

She loved it here, with these people and with him, and she’d been changing her whole life and the way she lived since he’d brought her up to the backside of Copper Mountain almost three months ago now.

And it was only possible, she understood as that fire crackled through her and the flames between them reached so high, because somewhere along the way she’d fallen in love with him.

Everything about Cowboy Point seemed bright and golden to her because every day was bookended with him. The beginning and the end of everything was Harlan.

Their quiet, happy mornings. The days they spent together, the days spent apart, and the evenings she couldn’t wait for. Talking with him. Laughing with him. Staring up at that summer sky and telling each other stories.

Whether they were sitting out behind his house or involving themselves in the summer joy that the whole community shared, it didn’t matter.

It was all about him.

Kendall had understood that he would wreck her from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him, and she’d gone ahead and sat down with him anyway.

So there was no doubt. This was her fault.

She pulled away this time, though she didn’t get far. Maybe she couldn’t bear to pull herself too far away from him. She rested her forehead on his and fought for air while their lips were only a breath apart.

“Harlan,” she began.

“Baby,” he replied, she could hear something different in his voice, something that made her think she might not recognize herself when she was done with this. With him. That she might leave, but she wouldn’t be taking all of her when she went. And the words he said next made that clear. “Truth is, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Only you matter. Here. With me. Everything else, we can fix.”

“We can’t.” She shook her head. “I’m telling you, I have to go.”

He called her baby again, in that same voice. And it tore her apart and then filled her up again, with a brighter light than any she’d ever known.

“Baby. Kendall.” His hands were in her hair. His big body was between her legs. “Stay.”

And she knew better, she really did, but in that moment she couldn’t do a single thing but melt into him all over again.

This time he picked her up in his arms and carried her through the house, taking her back into his bedroom where she’d never been.

A glance around told her it was the same as the rest of the house. Comfortable. Masculine. Huge windows to let the wilderness in and another massive fireplace to keep the long winters at bay. Books on built-in shelves, richly patterned rugs on the wood floors, and a terrace all to himself.

She immediately felt at home.

And that didn’t change when he lay her down on his big, wide bed and crawled his way up the length of her body so they could kiss a while like that, too. With her wrapped all around him and his weight pressing her down, setting off a new series of detonations that she thought might very well kill her, they were so intense. So perfect.

Everything got blurry and wild and when he pulled away, his hand was splayed out over her belly, beneath her shirt.

She wanted it lower.

“I need you naked,” he told her, his voice a gravelly thing.

“You first,” she dared him.

They both sat up at the same time. And they were laughing as they pulled off their clothes in a hurry, tossing them all into a tangle beside the bed.

Then there was just… the expanse of him.

God help her, but Harlan was a sight to see.

That he’d spent his life working the land, and much of it with his own hands, was immediately obvious. He was all ridged muscles and obvious strength, and she felt a wonderful sort of dizzy just looking at the hair on his chest and the way it seemed to form an irresistible arrow down to where the proudest part of him stood tall and ready.

She moved forward, reaching out to wrap her hand around him, and felt the thrill of a particularly feminine triumph in the way he pulled in a sharp breath at the contact.

He stood there by the side of the bed and let her learn the shape of him, thick and hot and hard.

But when she moved as if to take him into her mouth, he laughed.

“The first thing we’re going to do,” he told her, moving closer and tipping her back with his momentum, so she tumbled over and he followed her down, “is make sure you come. Again and again. I’ve been wanting a taste of you since the day we met.”

“I have too,” she retorted.

He grinned at her, this man who said he didn’t compete because he always won. “Tough.”

And the way he took control then left her in no doubt that he’d been treating her gently and oh, so carefully, before. The contrast was like being dipped in a thick, molten fire, and she loved it. She exulted in it.

Harlan rolled her where he wanted her, then shifted down the length of her body. He took hold of her legs and draped them up and over his wide, hard shoulders. He spread her thighs open even wider before him and then settled in, licking his way into her with absolutely no preamble.

She shattered, instantly, as his hot, impossible mouth tore her apart with every graze of his tongue against the place where she was softest. Hottest.

Kendall arched up against him. She heard the sound of her own voice rising in a wail, a sob—

But all Harlan did was keep holding her where he wanted her, letting her buck up against his face.

He kept right on going.

And she had no choice, so she did too.

Gloriously.

Not content to make her shatter one way, he used his fingers, too, making low noises of approval and encouragement as he took her up that cliff, and threw her over.

Again and again and again.

Kendall was wrung out, limp and sobbing and clinging to him as if he was the only solid ground in the whole world, when he finally crawled his way up the length of her body. And then settled between her legs, so she could feel his hardness against all that molten heat he’d made.

She took hold of his head and pulled it to her, kissing him as if her life depended on it. Tasting herself, and heat, and him.

God, and him.

And she was moving against him, sliding against that rock-hard part of him, driving herself wild all over again.

She had the thought that she really ought to insist that they use something, but the thought of any barrier between them made her want to die.

So she reached down between them, took him in her fist once more, and then—at last—guided him to her core.

They both felt the way he notched the thick head of himself inside her. She held her breath. He tensed, everywhere.

And then, that intense gaze of his on hers, he pressed in.

Deeper, then deeper still, so she lifted up her hips to take more of him.

Until, finally, he filled her completely.

And they both went still. The pounding of their hearts was so loud, almost overwhelming, and Kendall could feel her pulse everywhere they touched.

Or maybe it was his pulse.

But there was something too good about the way they were joined, like a fist in a glove.

Perfect, something in her whispered.

Only then, only when she started pressing against him, urging him on, did he begin to move.

And nothing in her whole life, not even the things he’d already done with his mouth, could possibly have prepared her for this.

For Harlan, her husband, so deep inside her body that she knew she was never going to be the same again.

For this sheer, sweet perfection of his body and hers and the way they fit together.

Every thrust was a revelation.

She could feel him everywhere, inside and out, again and again.

Sensation took her over, spinning them both far, far away like they were hurled out into that big sky somewhere above them.

But he was Harlan, so he took his time.

He was careful, methodical, and he drove her wild.

He pounded into her, brought her close to the edge—and then shifted back to a lazy, maddening, beautiful pace that made her cry out. And sometimes use her teeth. And call him names that made him laugh.

Again and again he did this, until she could no longer tell the difference between coming and not coming.

She was sobbing, she was saying his name. And she thought it was possible she said far more telling things than that, the words she’d promised herself she would never say out loud—

But then it stopped mattering.

Because he found the highest peak of all and grinned, then sent her catapulting off the side of it, out into everything.

Flying, not falling.

He wrapped her up, put his mouth to her ear, and said the thing he had to know changed everything, even then.

“I love you,” Harlan whispered. “I love you, Kendall. Stay with me.”

Over and over again.

As they both flew off into the wonder of it all together, like they had wings to spare and nothing but eternity ahead.