Chapter 37
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“There they are!” Grandma cheers, clapping when Anna and I enter the kitchen.
I keep Anna close to me, unable to let her go for any amount of time.
It took several minutes to will my erection away after nearly taking her in the shed, and I’m still not fully recovered.
I feel hot and frazzled. The mess of hair on my head is a perfect example of just how out of my mind I am.
I ran my fingers through it too much on the way back.
“It smells amazing in here, Eliza,” she says, grinning so damn brightly. “Need any help?”
Grandma returns her smile. “I’d love some. Brody and his grandfather could eat me out of house and home on a regular day, let alone Christmas dinner.”
Anna moves to step out from beneath my arm, but I scowl, barely reining in a grunt of denial. My grandmother goes from smiling to glaring at me in a heartbeat. Reluctantly, I drop my arm, and Anna stares up at me with wicked amusement before rushing to my grandmother’s side.
Traitor.
Soon, she’ll be all mine , I remind myself. And once I have her alone, I won’t be letting her out of my sight so easily.
“Don’t be so grumpy, Brody. Go keep yourself busy and set the table for me, please,” Grandma says, but she’s already steering Anna to the sink, instructing her on the easiest and most efficient way to peel a potato.
I linger in the doorway, watching the two women interact, so bubbly and bright. They get along so easily, like old friends. That knowledge does something to me. Twists me up inside in a way that I know comes from a place of love. Because that’s what it is. Love.
I love Anna. Deeply and all consumingly. In a way that should terrify me but doesn’t. It settles me. Completes me.
I’m whole around her, my missing pieces clicking back in place.
I accept those feelings with open arms, completely unafraid of them. Carrying that completeness with me, I stroll out of the kitchen and grab the good china from the cabinet in the dining room before beginning to set the table.
Laughter and hushed conversation keep me company as I finish my task. Even the stomp of heavy footsteps coming in from the back door doesn’t interrupt the two women.
Grandpa’s low, deep rumble of a voice cuts in, interrupting them. “Hell of a storm comin’ in. They’re callin’ out for a whiteout on the radio.”
“It’ll be a true white Christmas, then,” Grandma replies, unbothered.
Anna doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment if the nerves in her voice are anything to judge. “Will it be bad?”
I step into the kitchen before anyone can answer her. Her eyes find me instantly. They’re drawn to me the same way mine are her. I arch a brow at my grandfather when I notice his obvious curiosity as he takes us in.
I’m not sure why he’s so surprised at my protectiveness, considering I learned this particular trait from him.
“It’ll be fine. We might lose power for a bit, but we have generators galore here,” I tell Anna, hoping to comfort her.
She worries her lip. “What about Banana?”
“She’ll be fine. There’s a shed out there for her if it gets too much, but she can come inside with us if you want, my love,” Grandma offers her.
Grandpa’s scoff is harsh before he stilts his reaction, coughing to cover it up. “There’s no place for a cow in the house on Christmas, Eliza.”
“Is that so?” his wife asks, nice and slow.
“Yes. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the hoof marks on the floors this past week either. I’ve kept my mouth shut about that, but not this. Not today.”
“That’s okay! I’m sure she’ll be okay. Obviously, I don’t know anything about animals, but—” Anna begins, eyes wide and nervous like a deer in headlights.
I settle at her side and set my arm over her shoulders, tucking her into my body, where she belongs. “She’ll be good, I promise. We can check on her again before it gets too rough out there, make sure she’s settled.”
She tries to play it off, but I feel the tension leave her body at my promise. Pride swells in my chest. I want to settle her like this often. A million more times.
“Thank you,” she says on a long, relieved exhale.
“We still have a while yet, and I plan on having a nice family dinner, so Wade, if you wouldn’t mind, go wash up. You smell like cow shit.” Grandma scrunches her nose and lightly shoves her husband out of the room. He tips his head back and barks a laugh, nodding in silent agreement.
I spin Anna to my chest and tip her chin back to make her look at me. My heart tries to bash through my rib cage at the glimmer in her brown eyes.
“Welcome to the Steele family, Buttercup. Buckle up and enjoy the ride.”
The storm hits two hours later, rocking through the ranch with a vengeance. We had just finished cleaning up dinner when the lights flickered twice and then gave out completely, banking us in darkness.
The generators took a few minutes to get started, but once they were up and running, I was bundling Anna up in her jacket and sitting her in my truck.
She didn’t argue as I drove us back over to the guest house or when I helped her inside, insisting she stay the night.
It was for her safety. Mainly. And my own selfish wants.
The desire to sleep beside her in my bed.
I make quick work of starting my generator and then a fire in the fireplace, all too aware of the way Anna’s shivering from her place on my couch. The generator might be on, but the time with no heat kicking through the house has left it fucking freezing.
The small flames come to life before growing into a blaze, warm and bright. I’m moving toward her in an instant, gathering her in my arms and squeezing, soaking in her touch. I spin us around and sit on the couch, pulling her onto my lap, her legs wrapped around my middle.
It’s overwhelming, the strength of my feelings for her. The intensity of my affection and desire to have her by my side. She’s everything I never knew I needed. The laughter that fills my quietest moments and the finishing notes in a melody I’ve always thought would be left incomplete.
Fuck. She’s just . . . everything.
I press my face into her neck, my lips curving against her pulse. Happiness rattles through me. This right here is what I was missing these past few years. What I was chasing in Nashville but could never quite find.
I’m not letting it slip away. I’ll do everything in my power to revel in this happiness for the rest of my life.
“You’re smiling,” she whispers, palming the back of my head before stroking it softly.
“I’m happy you’re here.”
“Me too.”
Leaning back just enough to bare my face to her waiting stare, I thread our fingers together and rest them on my thighs. She watches me intently, like she’s trying to get inside my mind. If only she knew that the only thing I’ve thought about recently is her.
A soft humour glows in her eyes as she asks, “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“’Cause I feel lucky. I’ve got my Christmas present in my lap. The best one I’ve ever had. And if you let me, I’m goin’ to spend a damn long time unwrappin’ you.”
ANNALISE
My pulse thunders in my ears, throat drying like a sponge in the hot sun. I shift my hips, an almost subconscious movement to soothe the ache between my legs. Jean on jean, I grind on the bulge beneath me, my lungs on fire.
I palm the soft material of his old hockey tee, the team logo too worn to recognize, before pressing harder, firmer, wanting to feel the ridges hidden beneath. The heat from his skin burns into my fingers, but it’s still not enough.
“You can unwrap me under one condition,” I murmur, tucking my fingers beneath his shirt, thumbing the trail of hair leading into his jeans.
“And what’s that?” he grunts, his body so rigid beneath me.
It thrills me to know I can make him this way. As overloaded with desire as I am.
I drag his shirt up his chest and stare transfixed at the exposed muscle.
Abs thick and prominent enough to be counted, one after the other.
And that’s exactly what I do, sweeping my nails over the ridges just like the first time in the hotel bathroom.
He’s breathing hard through his nose, grip brutal on my waist.
“You let me unwrap my gift first,” I whisper, shoving his shirt as far as it will go before he’s leaning forward and tugging it off for me. “Holy abs.”
His laugh is choppy. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Please.”
I’m too focused on touching him, greedy for this look and touch without anything in the way, to register his plea. The black ink on his chest takes me by surprise, a beautiful mix of designs that he’s kept hidden.
On his right pec, two dates rest beneath a horseshoe drawn with such vivid details it almost jumps off his skin. The initials L.S. lie inside the horseshoe, and my heart pangs, knowing who they must be for.
Cautiously, I trace the design before moving to the next, a thickly sketched Steele beneath his left pec. It’s a proud declaration. A visible representation of the love he has for his family.
“They’re beautiful,” I breathe, continuing to trace his tattoos. “You’re beautiful.”
His stare is heady, so goddamn intimate it’s like a stroke along my wet pussy, teasing me with the pleasure that’s coming.
“Unbutton my jeans, Anna.”
He leans back into the couch and watches me get to work. With shaky fingers, I do as he says before taking it one step further. I slide off his lap and drop to my knees between his spread legs. His fingers curl on nothing but air.
It takes little time to rid him of the rest of his clothes.
When I’ve finished, I stare up at him in awe.
In utter disbelief. He looks like a god, a king in his own right, as he sits above me, powerful thighs spread and roped biceps flexing.
I take hold of his knees before sliding my hands up his thighs, over the raised skin of thick scars hidden beneath the dark hair.
Leaning forward, I take his hard cock in my hand, squeezing as I stroke up to the tip.