Chapter Forty-Three
If the man only knew. Jane wanted his mouth on hers. But three important things surfaced in her mind.
The first was simple. Babe would never be her preferred term of endearment, but it was infinitely better than Mary Poppins.
Second, despite that, how Chance said babe made her shiver. His voice dropped, and the corners of his eyes tightened. She couldn’t explain the arousal-inducing formula, but she couldn’t ignore it either.
Finally, third, no matter the situation, Chance knew what she wanted—sometimes before she realized it herself. Kissing him would be awesome. Driving his truck through the mud? That’d be pretty amazing, too.
Jane didn’t need more convincing. They switched places, and she repositioned the driver’s seat to reach the pedals. Her heart galloped, but she wrapped her hands around the steering wheel.
“Ready?”
She couldn’t explain her nerves. “I’m a little scared.”
“I won’t let you get hurt.” He lounged in the passenger seat as though they weren’t tempting death with her at the wheel.
Still, her stomach tied in knots. “What if I destroy your truck?”
Impish humor curled on his lips. “Don’t do that.”
Jane pressed her head against the steering wheel. She really wanted to drive into the mud. The consequences were terrifying. They could wreck. They could die. Along with any number of possibilities that existed in between.
She rolled her head until she could see him.
Chance terrified her. He was beautiful; she was plain.
He was amazing. She was normal. Yet he didn’t see the same thing she did.
In his eyes, she was beautifully amazing, and in his words, he wouldn’t let her get hurt.
Jane met his eyes, trusting what he believed, and sat up. “I’m not going to wreck your truck.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“You’re pretty amazing, Chance.”
“Eye of the beholder, babe. But I’m glad you think so.”
Her heart squeezed, and Jane shifted into gear. “Here we go.”
She licked her lips and pressed the gas pedal.
She clenched the steering wheel tighter as they approached the mud pit, and in the split second before they dove down, her breath locked in her lungs.
She closed her eyes as it felt like the truck was free-falling.
It felt like a century. The truck straightened.
Her eyes flew open. Jane hollered and fed the truck more gas.
They rocked side to side. Mud splashed. The wheels burned and churned.
Her fingers ached and her heart slammed against her ribs until they summited the far side of the pit.
She took her foot off the pedal and threw her arms into the air. “I did it!”
His grin matched hers—but without her ecstatic screaming. “Now do it again.”
So she did. Jane flew through the field.
They raced and spun through the mud. She traversed hills and valleys, searching for their next run.
The wipers barely kept the mud off the windshield.
She trusted herself, and he trusted her.
Jane crisscrossed the field until she didn’t think her body could fly any higher.
Jane eased up. They slowed, and she shook her hands out and took a long breath. This had been cathartic. Her nervous tension had ramped up but disappeared somewhere in the mud, leaving her relaxed and alive.
“Go that way.” Chance pointed toward the darkening tree line.
Jane eased them from the field and headed onto a new trail.
They rolled along a rocky road. The steering wheel slipped back and forth in her hands.
She let the truck rumble as it found its path, knowing she was still in control as they headed deeper into the woods.
Shadows wrapped around them. The sinking sun only reached them in patches between the branches, seeming to promise that they were alone with nature.
It felt like there was nothing near them for miles and miles.
Jane slowed at a fork in the road. “Which way?”
“Your choice,” he said.
“Mine? I don’t have a clue.”
Chance gestured. “That way leads out.”
She studied it, not sure she wanted to leave the quiet oasis where they’d taken respite but not sure that she wanted to rumble in the mud again. After all the excitement, she liked sitting next to him in the quiet. “What about the other way?”
His blue eyes met hers. The connection sparked over her as though lightning cracked.
Chance bit his bottom lip as if he weren’t sure where the other path led.
Then his jaw ticked. He cocked his head toward the mysterious trail, and no matter what he said, she was certain she wanted to go that way. “Eventually, it’ll lead to a dead end.”
Lightning cracked between them again. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and she shivered.
Alone with Chance. No one to interrupt. He didn’t say another word.
He didn’t have to, and she realized what he had done.
Jane had to choose what she wanted—which, of course, was him.
Saying that she wanted him, doing things that signified what she wanted…
that made her vulnerable. She had to trust herself and him.
She had to believe that he wanted what she did, no matter what barriers she’d once constructed in her mind.
Looks didn’t matter. Assumptions were pointless. She wasn’t as bold as him, honestly answering and reacting to whatever came before him. But that was what he needed from her.
Baring herself in this way was impossible. Her heart tripped over itself, racing with desire and… certainty.
Jane closed her eyes, certain of what she wanted… what they wanted. Serenity filled her chest, and Jane opened her eyes. The corners of her lips curled as she angled his truck along the path that would give them time alone.
They didn’t say a word as she drove. Arousal warmed in her blood, and while she anticipated what might come, she was embarrassed of her desire. The trail disappeared. Jane shifted into park when she didn’t see anywhere else to go.
“We’re here.” Her heart slammed as she turned. “The middle of nowhere.”
His mouth quirked. “You handled the mud like a pro.”
“Thanks.” She chewed on her bottom lip. Jane didn’t know how to act next now that she’d made clear what she wanted.
Her short breaths couldn’t keep pace with her sporadic pulse.
She’d half-expected Chance to jump across their seats, but she knew better.
He liked to be deliberate. That careful, intentional way he went about kissing her made her ravenously weak.
His seatbelt unfastened. Her heart jumped.
Slowly, as if he were savoring her tense, shaking breaths and multiplying desire, he reached across the truck.
Deftly, Chance released her seatbelt. The metal latch unclicked.
The chest restraint rolled back. Neither were a sound she ever noticed before, but now, they caressed her senses like a promise of what was to come.