Chapter Thirty
Meredith let Chico out for a walk while she waited for Wade.
The crowd dispersed after an ambulance left the scene with Charlie Franklin.
Meredith hadn’t seen him, but she’d heard the other bar patrons say his name.
She couldn’t believe Wade had gone inside the bar.
She’d waited for him to come out with her heart in her throat.
When she’d heard the shots, she’d imagined the worst.
The shock hadn’t worn off completely. She was anxious and on edge. She needed to go home with Wade and hug him until she calmed down.
He returned from the chat with Nava, appearing more relaxed than she was. He looked healthy and strong, despite his bandaged arm. She picked up Chico, who thumped his tail happily. The sound matched the wild beating of her heart. She loved this man—and he loved her. He’d said so.
He proved it by wrapping his arms around her and delivering a kiss that curled her toes. Chico got squished between them, but he didn’t complain. The dog licked both their faces, excited by the reunion.
Wade broke the contact with a smile. “Ready?”
She nodded, speechless.
“Let’s go home.”
They climbed into his truck together. Police were still milling about, along with reporters and firefighters. Wade maneuvered through the scene and traveled down backstreets until they were free from chaos.
“What did Nava talk to you about?” she asked.
“Police matters.”
“Does that mean you can’t tell me?”
Glancing at her, he said, “The remains by the lake belonged to Cameron Pickett, my mother’s former boyfriend, and very likely my biological father. Turns out my mother killed him in self-defense.”
Meredith drew in a sharp breath. Wynona had killed Cameron Pickett? No wonder she’d been so disturbed by the discovery of the bones. It also explained why Wynona hadn’t wanted Wade in Lost Lake, and why she sometimes looked at him in quiet horror.
“Nava agreed to keep it quiet and let the investigation stall.”
She hugged Chico to her chest, contemplative. Wynona had been harboring this awful secret for thirty years. Meredith was glad the story had come out, even if they couldn’t go public with the details.
“You can’t repeat this to anyone,” Wade said.
“I know. I won’t.”
“I got in trouble for letting you be my research assistant,” he said, “but I’m grateful for your help on the case. You spotted Cameron Pickett in the yearbook. You remembered the conversation with Cordelia. You were instrumental.”
Meredith flushed at the praise. She’d never been instrumental before. “I’m sorry about how it unfolded.”
He slowed before turning onto the gravel road. He seemed no worse for the wear, despite the trauma of the day. She was the one who couldn’t get over the shock of seeing him play the hero in uniform.
“Did you shoot Charlie?” she asked.
“No. Nava shot him. I just wrestled with him.”
“You wrestled with a gunman?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I thought I could overpower him.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Your mother almost had a heart attack. And you know what else? When you took off your shirt, one of the women in the crowd gasped in delight. You were risking your life, and she was enjoying the scenery.”
He didn’t smirk at this comment or make light of her distress. “I understand how it feels when the person you love puts themselves in danger, and you can’t stop them.”
She felt chastened by his words, though they were fair. He’d been worried about her. She’d been worried about him. Her precarious situation had resolved, however. Tripp was dead. Wade’s dangerous job was ongoing.
“If I’m going to be your girlfriend, I have to insist on something.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t go into a hostage situation unarmed again.”
“Done.”
“And don’t go shirtless in public.”
He let out a huff of laughter. “I’ll try not to strip down when I’m on duty. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes.”
They fell into a charged silence. She remembered how he’d looked on the day of the picnic, with his pant legs rolled up to his knees and his chest bare. He was a beautiful man, and other women would always notice. They would probably continue to throw themselves at him wherever he went.
When they arrived at the ranch, Meredith put Chico away in the dog run. She greeted King and Daisy with enthusiastic pets. Wade grabbed a change of clothes from the barn before heading inside. He set the bundle at the edge of her bed.
“I need to shower,” he said. “I’m filthy, and I smell like panic sweat.”
“So do I.”
He lifted her arm to nuzzle underneath. “You still smell like a wood nymph.”
Smiling, she shook her head. “Frolicking naked in the rain?”
His arms wrapped around her body, and his mouth nudged her ear. “Let’s frolic naked in the shower.”
She didn’t argue when he swept her off her feet and carried her inside the bathroom, or when he stripped away her clothes.
She returned the favor by unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders.
Their lips met for feverish kisses, hot and hungry.
They ended up in the shower stall, touching each other with soapy hands.
She attempted to wash her hair, but he distracted her by groping her breasts.
When she turned around, breathless with desire, he pressed his hard body against her back.
With his mouth on her neck and his hand between her legs, he stroked her to orgasm while warm water rained over them.
She sagged against him, aware of his rampant erection and hammering heart. Her pulse rate returned to normal, little by little. She disentangled herself and turned off the faucet. They were clean enough for now.
“Let’s go to my room,” she said, facing him. He was a strong man, easily able to lift her against a tile wall, but he’d been injured today. She wanted him off his feet, in a soft bed. She stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel.
He seemed dazed, unable to think clearly in his current state.
He stood there with water sluicing down his body and his arousal bobbing upright like a proud fist. Meredith was happy to take the lead.
She curled her fingers around his shaft and urged him toward her.
After he left the shower stall, she rubbed the towel over his hard body.
Then she retreated to her bedroom. Once inside, she directed him to sit at the edge of her bed.
His masculinity made a stark contrast to the flowered sheets.
He was all golden muscles and taut flesh.
She sank to her knees and worshipped him with her mouth.
He gasped and shuddered at the intimate contact.
His hands threaded into her wet hair, and he let her have him this way for several hot moments.
Then he stopped her, like he’d done before, and urged her onto her back on the bed.
He spread her thighs with his hands and buried his tongue inside her.
She watched him lick and suck at her sensitive flesh, awash in the erotic sensations.
He wasn’t as controlled as he’d been the first few times they were together.
Instead of toying with her and prolonging the pleasure, he pulled away.
He had a condom that he must have brought with his change of clothes.
Stretching it over his turgid flesh, he positioned himself on top of her.
She twined her arms around his neck and touched her lips to his.
He tasted of her, and she imagined that she tasted of him.
He thrust inside her with a groan of surrender. “I love you,” he said, as if he couldn’t hold back his words or his actions.
“I love you,” she replied. Ecstasy crashed over her in delicious waves. “I love you.”
He kept repeating it, his hips bucking and surging against hers. He kept plunging in and out of her, kissing her, touching her, loving her. She’d never felt anything so emotionally and physically satisfying.
His mouth and hands were pure magic. His body was a revelation. She imagined glowing sparks on her skin, and brilliant bursts of white light. She exploded into a second orgasm. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she screamed his name.
He continued to pound her into the mattress, teeth gritted.
The headboard rocked against the wall so hard she thought the bed might break.
Then he thrust to the hilt with a hoarse cry, shoulders quaking with the power of his release.
When it was over, he collapsed with his full weight on top of her.
Their breaths mingled, ragged and raw, and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat matched his.
After a moment, he got up to dispose of the condom in the bathroom.
He climbed back into bed with her, though it was a tight fit on the small mattress. He brought the flowery sheet over them.
She snuggled against his chest, sated. He wrapped his arm around her, pressing his lips to her head. His fingers sifted through her damp hair. She inhaled the intoxicating scent of him, a delicious mix of cedar soap and warm male skin.
“Do you think it will always be like this?” she asked drowsily.
“Like what?”
“Better every time we do it.”
He considered the question. “I don’t know if my heart can take that. Especially if we go into exponentials.”
She smiled, tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertip. “You’ll have to love me less.”
“I can’t.”
She closed her eyes, because she felt weepy again. It was overwhelming to be adored so thoroughly. She might need gradual exposure to this much pleasure and passion. His tenderness could only be handled in small doses.
“We should get married,” he said, stroking her hair.
She lifted her head. “What?”
“I want to marry you.”
Meredith scrambled upright. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am serious,” he said. “I love you, and I want to make it official.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
He straightened slightly, resting his weight on the uninjured elbow. “Say yes.”
She rose from the bed and grabbed her robe off the hook. She donned the garment with shaking hands.
“I’ve botched it, haven’t I?”
“It’s not the kind of offer you just throw out there, on impulse.”
Rising from the bed, he tugged on a pair of sweatpants. “Right. I can do better.”
She cinched the belt of her robe in a tight knot. “Are you worried that I’m pregnant?”
“No.”
“Do you get hit on the head earlier?”
“No,” he said, giving her a crooked smile. “I looked down the barrel of a gun and thought I was going to die. That experience made me reevaluate my priorities. I know exactly what I want and how I feel.”
“You had a near-death experience. Maybe it’s not the best time to make life decisions.”
He took her in his arms. “I’m not going to change my mind.”
She lifted her hand to his cheek. “We’ve only been on one date, Wade. You took me to a gravesite.”
“Yeah. That’s going to be hard to top.”
She laughed, shaking her head.
“We’ve only been on one official date,” he said, “but we’ve been together constantly. You were stuck with me on the day of the tornado, and when you volunteered the day after. I gave you a massage in the kitchen on Monday, when we shared our first kiss. You slept with me on Tuesday night.”
“That night doesn’t count.”
“On Wednesday, we took your dog to the vet,” he continued, undeterred. “Thursday and Friday you tried to avoid me, mostly unsuccessfully. Saturday we went on a picnic and enjoyed multiple sexual encounters—”
“I don’t need a recap,” she interrupted. “I was there.”
“My point is that we’ve spent a lot of hours together. At least ten dates’ worth. Also, mind-blowing sex is worth ten more dates.”
She pretended to count on her fingers. “What kind of math is that?”
“Sex math. It’s very scientific.”
Chuckling, she braced her palms on his chest. “Let’s not rush into anything else just yet.”
“You think it won’t stick,” he said, his eyes narrow.
“I didn’t say that. I just need you to behave like a normal person at the beginning of a relationship.”
He arched a brow at the request. “You fired a shotgun in my direction the day we met. I bribed my father to get you out of jail this afternoon. We sailed past normal before we even started.”
“Humor me.”
“Fine. Let’s have dinner tomorrow night.”
“I’d like that.”
Wade nuzzled her neck. “In the meantime, why don’t we go to my room in the barn, and I’ll make love to you until you can’t remember your name?”
“I’m willing to go to your room, curl up next to you, and fall asleep.”
“That’s a terrible compromise.”
“Take it or leave it.”
He took it.