Chapter Twenty-two – Two Is Better Than One
Chapter Twenty-two
Sadie
TWO IS BETTER THAN ONE
Performed by Boys Like Girls with Taylor Swift
My heart was racing as I left Rafe in search of Fallon. It wasn’t just the promises I’d made to him about our unfinished business that had my pulse hammering. It was the devastation I felt for him, and the anger I felt toward his family for the utter disregard and complete lack of compassion for what he’d been through with Lorenzo.
He’d been visibly relieved to see his security team show up, and for that I was grateful to them. I hoped they could ease some of his worries, and I would do what I could to lessen them as well. For now, that meant shadowing his daughter like he’d asked. The only thing I wouldn’t do that he’d asked was leave. I wouldn’t cut and run when he had so few people looking out for him.
When I finally found Fallon, she was with Lauren in the kitchen. I told them four of Rafe’s men had shown up, and Lauren let out a sigh of pure frustration. “And where the hell am I supposed to put them when I’ve got an entire wedding party coming?”
“Other than Sadie, no one else is on the third floor,” Fallon suggested, and Lauren tossed her an exasperated look.
“I haven’t cleaned those rooms in months.” She rubbed her forehead. “Fine. Go make up the beds, and I’ll figure out a meal for a team of people I hadn’t planned on feeding tonight.”
If Rafe hadn’t asked me to look after his daughter, if I hadn’t still been irritated with Lauren for her treatment of him, I might have stayed to help her cook. Instead, I found I needed distance before I said things I couldn’t take back and weren’t my place to say, so I followed Fallon to a linen closet on the third floor.
We worked quietly down the row of rooms past mine, making beds and wiping down surfaces.
“Where’s Maisey?” I asked.
“While all the so-called adults in my life were arguing, her mom picked her up for her lessons at the riding school. She’ll be back on Saturday to help with the wedding. Mom pays us both to act as hostesses.”
After we’d finished up the final room and headed toward the stairs, Fallon stopped, chewed worriedly at her cuticles, and then asked, “Why does Dad hate Mr. Puzo?”
I shifted, uncomfortable with being put on the spot and knowing Rafe would dislike it if I told his daughter things he didn’t want her to know. “I think you need to ask him.”
She sighed in disgust. “He won’t tell me. He treats me like I’m five instead of fourteen. That’s fine. I’ll find the answers the same way I’ve always found things out in this house.”
Worry crept through me. “And how’s that?”
Fallon grinned at me. “I’m not giving my secrets away if you won’t give me any of yours .”
I almost snorted because it sounded so much like her father. Negotiating deals. Negotiating relationships. “I can’t tell you anything about your dad and Lorenzo, Fallon. I’d be breaking his trust, and the little bit I’ve earned from him is on shaky ground as it is.”
“You and Dad have a thing going.”
Was that what it was? A thing ? It felt enormous. It felt like a black hole sucking me into its vortex from which there would be no escape. I was a bit terrified by what I felt for Rafe. Because what I wanted with him was impossible.
When I didn’t respond, Fallon said, “I like seeing him here. Seeing him with you. He’s a different person. More relaxed. Or at least he was until Mr. Puzo showed up. Is Mr. Puzo really your cousin?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
I told her a bit about my great-grandmother. Not the jewelry part, but the other parts of it. “My family is just trying to trace our roots.”
“My roots are really messed up,” she said. “One side of my family stole from the other and then basically made them indentured servants. I think those bad seeds were what caused Mom and Spence to fight. Uncle Adam told me Spence promised to make it right after nearly a hundred years, but that he’d died before he could. He wants me to give him half the ranch when I take over.” My surprised exhale had Fallon tilting her head toward me and saying, “I don’t believe him. I told Dad that Uncle Adam was up to no good. He and Spence had a huge argument the night Spencer died.”
“Where was your mom?”
Fallon looked away. “She hurt herself last year. A cow rammed her into a fence, and she’d been taking these hefty pain meds. They knocked her out cold.” She stopped on the stairs, hand sliding up and down the dark, lacquered wood. “I couldn’t wake her at first when they came to tell us about Spence…”
My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. She’d faced it alone? Goddamn it. No one should have to find out about losing someone they loved like that, let alone a kid.
“I called Uncle Adam, and he came over. He was still living at the Hurly house then, but he was here in just a few minutes.”
“Who found Spence?” I asked quietly.
“Teddy. He’s one of our part-time ranch hands. It was only five in the morning, but he was coming to help with baby bull castration.” Fallon shuddered, and I wasn’t sure if it was at the ugly job or if it was the way Spence had been found. “He’d been dead for hours they said.” Fallon’s voice cracked.
“I’m really, truly sorry you lost him.” I knew the words were useless, but I still offered them as they were all I had to give her.
She bit her lip, as if holding back tears, and continued downstairs, heading for the kitchen. I hurried to keep up with her.
“I get why Dad wants to sell,” she said. “It’s all falling apart. It was falling apart before Spence died. They kept having to lower the size of the herd because they couldn’t afford the staff to work them, but that meant we had even less profits. They were trying to shore it up with the other revenue, but it wasn’t enough. We had a whole field of alfalfa destroyed last year, which meant we didn’t have any to sell when we had to keep what was left for our animals. It just was one thing after another.”
“Fallon.” I pulled her to a stop with a gentle hand. “My family went through a really rough time too. We almost lost everything. I heard the discussions my parents had, but they never let me take that burden on as a kid. You shouldn’t have it weighing on your shoulders either.”
She looked back at me, and her expression was so grown-up, so knowledgeable, that it was scary. “It’s my ranch, Sadie. I’m the last Harrington here. Dad is just the executor of the trust because he gave up his rights to it before I was born. I may be just a kid, but it’s mine . Spence left it to me.” Her voice was fierce with pride, and determination sparked in those eyes so like her dad’s. “I should have a say in what happens to it and how we dig ourselves out of this hole.”
I swallowed hard, wanting to shield her, and realized that was the last thing she wanted. She’d already faced some of the worst things alone and handled it with more strength than a lot of grown-ups would have. “You’re right. You should have a say. Have you told your dad how you feel?”
“He keeps trying to box me into little-kid mode.” Her frustration was clear.
“I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t believe you can handle it. I think he wants you to hang on to every last moment of your childhood because once you become an adult and accept all your adult responsibilities, it never lets go. You have seventy, eighty, or even more years to be an adult, but you only have a handful to be young and free.” It was why Ryder hadn’t wanted me to take on the bar when Uncle Phil died. He’d wanted me to go off and play college girl for a few more years, to goof off and party and just live in the moment, but everything had changed once I’d almost died. I couldn’t go back to being the freewheeling Sadie who threw darts and hooked up with boys.
Fallon’s life had taken the same kind of hit when Spencer had died.
The teen tilted her head, considering what I’d said, but she never got a chance to respond as the back door slammed open, and Lauren hustled out of the mudroom with a handful of reusable grocery bags. “Oh good, you’re done upstairs. I ran to the store to get something to feed Rafe’s guests. Can you help grab the rest from the truck?” Lauren asked Fallon.
The teen simply nodded, hurrying out the back.
I followed with my heart wrung to pieces for her. The belief that this land was hers, that it was her legacy, had her working to the bone when all Rafe wanted was to free her from its weight. And unless they could find a compromise soon, it was going to leave a nasty scar on both of them.
? ? ?
It was late, the house was quiet, and my body was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep. The talk Rafe and I needed to have and the promises we’d made had me pacing the room and watching the clock while my stomach fluttered.
When Fallon and I had taken dinner down to him and his team in the cabin, he’d told me not to wait up. He’d said he’d be caught up helping to install cameras and then digging into the ranch’s accounts, and he’d see me in the morning.
But I couldn’t settle. Not with so much still needing to be said. So, I propped my bedroom door open, hoping I’d be able to hear if and when he returned to the main house.
When my phone vibrated in my hand, it nearly had me jumping out of my skin. Seeing it was the bartender at McFlannigan’s had a new worry rushing through.
“Hi, Ted. What’s up?”
“Fire marshal fined us.”
“Damn it,” I swore as frustration and guilt hit me. “What happened?”
“Patti and I didn’t realize we were over capacity. We knew we were busy. Grady and his band had a whole crew show up from UTK for Throwback Thursday, but I wasn’t keeping count.”
“Where was Bart?” Our part-time bouncer kept a counter going on our busiest nights.
“Called in sick. I thought we could handle it.”
It wasn’t his fault. He’d told me all along he didn’t want to manage the bar. It was my job to find a fill-in for Bart or, at a minimum, keep track of our numbers. It was a harsh reminder I had responsibilities waiting for me. A real life that I’d been ignoring while I was playing detective, pretending to be Sadie-the-dart-champion again, and falling for a man who it would be impossible to build a life with. My stomach twisted.
“I’ll be home on Sunday. I’ll try to convince him to rip up the fine.”
We spent another couple of minutes with him giving me an update before hanging up.
I paced some more, frustration brewing. I’d put aside my plans and my ideas for my community while here, letting these people sink into the void that had been slowly growing inside me. The roots they’d placed in my heart were all but set, vines twining around me in a way that would be painful to remove. But the truth was, none of these people were mine. I couldn’t keep them. Worrying about them wasn’t my place, just as their relationships weren’t mine to fix.
I had a life to go back to before it crumbled too.
So why did this feel like reality…and the life I’d left behind feel fake?
It was nearing midnight when I heard the quiet hush of footsteps on the stairs and doors closing down the hall from me. Just because some of his men had come in didn’t mean Rafe was back, but I couldn’t stand waiting anymore. Couldn’t stand making a circuit through the tiny room one more time.
If he wasn’t back, I’d find something else to do to fill the time and shut off my brain. I made my way silently down to the room below me where Rafe had moved his things the night before. Light bled out from under the door, and I thought of knocking, but I didn’t want to wake Fallon across the hall, so I simply turned the knob.
He was standing at the window, shirtless with a pair of sweats clinging to his lower body. His palm was on the glass, but he wasn’t looking outside. His head was bent, shoulders leaning forward, as if he was carrying the weight of a hay bale on his shoulders.
The click of the door shutting behind me had his head jerking up. Dark eyes met mine, worry and pain dancing with lust as he slowly watched me step closer, and that same heady desire that roared through me whenever he was near rushed back in. It pooled in my stomach and made me forget everything I’d come to say. All I wanted was to get lost for a few hours in the sinful promises we’d taunted each other with, if only to give him a respite from the worries dragging him down.
“I know we need to talk, but I’m not good company tonight,” he said. He picked up a glass of bourbon from the dresser next to him, tossed it back, and set it down empty.
“Let’s be honest, Slick. You haven’t exactly been burning up the air with your repartee at any time.”
Only the slight raise of his brow showed that he’d enjoyed my little dig.
I moved forward again, and this time, I didn’t stop until our bare feet were touching. Until the musky scent of him, soap and fields and bourbon, filled my lungs. “We do need to talk,” I said. “But right now, I think you need something else more.”
He watched as I slid my palms over the cuts and lines of his stomach, up over the dark hair sprinkled across his chest, along those strong, wide shoulders carrying the world. I pressed closer, sliding between his legs, brushing our hips together, and was rewarded with the hard length of him surging into my stomach. When I followed the path my hands had made with my lips, he inhaled sharply. A hiss of tortured pleasure.
“Sadie,” he grunted, and I ignored the warning in his tone, flicking a tongue over a dark nipple. He fisted my hair, dragging my head back so his eyes, ablaze with need, scorched into mine. “Tennessee, I won’t be gentle. I won’t be kind. I have too much burning me up inside tonight.”
“I don’t want gentle or kind. I want you as you are now—raw and gritty and tormented. Let me ease it all for a few hours.”
He stared for several long heartbeats, and then, his mouth slammed into mine. Just as he promised, it wasn’t gentle or kind or tender. It was agony and flame and deliciously rough, causing my core to clench and my pulse to race.
Teeth grazed and hands bit into my skin, digging deep and anchoring me to him.
Our breathing was harsh and feverish.
His kisses and his touches were savage and all the more beautiful because of it.
I surrendered everything to him. Control. Heart. Hope. I gave, and he took, inhaling me. His head dipped, finding the pulse beating wildly in my neck, nipping and sucking at it before continuing farther downward, and when his mouth ran into the neckline of my tank, he simply tore it from my body. Heedless of my gasp, he latched on to a hard tip waiting for him.
I moaned, fingers tangling in those locks bronzed by the sun, trying to find enough air to keep from drowning. When his mouth moved away from that tormented nipple, I whimpered in protest, and I felt him smile against my chest before he slid over to the other breast and gave it the same attention he had its partner.
Then, I was up in his arms, and in two long strides, he had tossed me on the bed and dragged my pajama bottoms and underwear off my legs. He flung them away and then slowly, thoroughly, took in every single inch of me.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He said it as if it caused him pain. As if the mere sight of me hurt. He even closed his eyes to block me out, thick lashes resting against bronzed skin. His chest heaved as if he’d run miles. Finally, his lids opened to reveal a delectable inferno waging inside him. One I wanted to devour me.
“Rafe.” His name was a tortured beg as my hand skimmed low over my stomach, seeking relief to the growing ache inside. He cursed under his breath, grabbed my wrists, and yanked them above my head as he landed on me, the delicious weight pressing me into the mattress.
I leaned up to take his mouth with mine, slanting to join them perfectly, and heat burst along our lips. A bonfire I wanted to flash and flare until I was nothing but ash. With one hand, he held my wrists captive while he pushed his chest up and away from me with the other.
“My way, Tennessee,” he growled. “My way or we stop.”
I wrapped my ankles around his calves, and the movement dragged his hard length right where I was aching for it to be. “Then, get to work, Slick.”
His lips curled up for all of two seconds before he leaned in and bit my lower lip hard enough it brought as much pain as it did pleasure. “I want to use both my hands to worship your body, darling. Can I trust you to leave yours where they’re at?” he asked.
“Why can’t I touch you too?”
“I’ll let you. Just not yet. My turn first,” he said.
For a moment, defiance flickered, but then, because I ached with a desperation that felt fatal if it went unfulfilled, I simply nodded. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t have agreed to in that moment just to feel him on me. In me. Around me.
He slowly let go of my wrists, and when I knotted my fingers together and left them above my head, he smiled. A wicked, sinful smile that had lust spinning through my veins, pounding with the speed of a racehorse. And then he did just as he’d said he would. He worshipped every piece of me with hands and tongue and teeth until I was vibrating.
He’d said he wouldn’t be gentle, and while his touch wasn’t soft or slow, it wasn’t cruel. Every stroke demanded a response. Every twirl, every brush, left a flaming trail behind it. I was writhing with want, the pressure and intensity inside my chest and loins growing second by second. My lungs felt like they’d stopped working, my heart was hammering against my rib cage, and my core felt like it was going to erupt.
It physically hurt. This torturous wanting. This absolute craving for release.
And when his fingers finally sank into me, it took nothing more than one single thrust before I was crying out.
He silenced the sound with his mouth as I rode out the waves on his palm.
When I opened my eyes, the cocky grin on his face about undid me all over again, sending another wave of release through me that he felt on his hand. His grin widened.
He rolled away, and I uttered a curse of objection.
I hadn’t gotten my turn. I hadn’t gotten to torment him.
He chuckled, a low, dark sound that rolled through me as strongly as his touch. “You have to stay quiet, Tennessee. Too many people around. Can you do that?”
“I’ll do my best,” I said with a hint of irritation making itself known.
But then, he dropped his sweats, and my annoyance disappeared. He’d called me beautiful, but he was utterly magnificent. Cut and grooved, corded muscles tensing and contracting gently with each movement of his body. I wanted to touch and bite and suck on every piece of him just like he’d done with me. When I started to drop my arms from over my head, he grunted out, “I didn’t say you could move those yet.”
My lips twitched, but I simply shifted to release the strain on my shoulders and waited.
He dug around in a bag and came back with a condom wrapper, and all I could do was stare, with a pounding heart and desperate desire creeping in again, as he slowly rolled it onto his impressive length. I swore my core shook when he landed between my legs again.
His mouth found mine in a punishing, breath-stealing kiss before he eased down my body one more time, tasting every inch all over again. Savoring me. When the coarse bristles of his beard landed on my thighs and his tongue flicked along my heat, I shuddered, hips arching. It was too much. Too much and not enough. I was going to shatter.
I couldn’t stop my reaction, lowering my hands and tangling my fingers into his bronzed locks. He looked up at me, stopping all the delightful licks and swirls.
“Hands off, Tennessee,” he growled.
“Please,” I begged in a tone I’d never heard myself use before, husky and deep and full of all the want I had flowing through me. “Please don’t stop, and please let me touch you.”
His gaze darkened, flames burning, and his mouth found mine once more, tongue lashing out a swirling answer. I couldn’t tell if it was punishment or acquiescence, but he didn’t stop me from touching him this time. My fingers dug into wide shoulders, nails slid along his back, and my back arched, molding every curve to his.
His eyes closed, hiding those dark flames from me. His jaw clenched, and then, without warning, he was inside me. Full and hard and perfect. I barely had a chance to inhale before we were moving. The pace was sure and steady and controlled at first. Completely Rafe. But in mere seconds, the restraint disappeared, breaking into frantic, chaotic thrusts. And if I’d thought I was going to shatter before, if I’d thought I’d already gone over the edge with his fingers stroking me, the mountain he took me up this time threatened to ruin me.
“Now, Sadie. Damnit, now.” The whispered demand, tangled with my name, sent me free-falling over the cliff, my body heeding his command, shivering and shaking and soaring.
He swallowed my cries before rolling us over so he was on his back, and I was on top. He fisted my hair, pulling my head back so he could look at me and said, “Your turn, beautiful. Take what you wanted. Make me yours.”
I didn’t hesitate. I straddled him, the shift of position causing a pleasured moan to escape my lips I tried to bite back. And then, I did what he told me to do, taking what I wanted, moving fast in an instinctive rhythm, one he met with every slide and thrust of his hips as his eyes turned black and his fingers dug into my hips.
The pressure built again. I’d never gone up and over so many times. Never had anyone demand I hand over every last piece of myself to them. I’d always held back a few morsels of myself in my other encounters. A few bits that meant I wouldn’t lose myself entirely. That I wouldn’t crumble after the onslaught as I’d seen each of my siblings do at different times. But even knowing the truth, even knowing I was going to be permanently marked in a new, unrecoverable way by Rafe once I left on Sunday, I still gave him every single part of me, including those last tentative pieces.
I watched his face as the roar built inside us and all but lost my breath when I saw him hand over pieces of himself in return. He opened the door to his soul and let me sneak inside just as he dove over the edge. And I did the only thing I could, which was to follow him into the abyss one more time.