Chapter 7 #2
Finlay: You only wrote those two words so I’d be embarrassed in front of Gunnar. On a happy note, if you do fall in love and marry Decker, then we’ll be sisters for life.
Willa: Ha. That’s not going to happen. We live on opposite coasts and live for our jobs.
Willa: But I’m so sad I’m missing the dinner. I want to celebrate every second with you.
Finlay: It’s tourist season. They’ll have those roads cleared by morning. Come straight to Jude’s dad’s house, and we’ll have breakfast and get ready together.
Willa: Will do. Have so much fun tonight.
Willa: Has Jude figured it out yet?
Finlay: He has no clue. As far as he knows, it’s just a family dinner. I don’t know, Wills. He’s either going to love this idea or hate it.
Since Jude had proposed a year and a half ago, he’d asked to set a date a dozen times, but when he saw Fee was nowhere near ready to think about planning a wedding, he’d let it go. Now, she was surprising him with a ceremony.
Willa: All he wants is to marry you. He doesn’t care how it happens. Have fun. Love you!
Finlay: Love you with the power of a thousand suns!
With Decker still in the shower, Willa peeled off her wet clothes and put on her pajamas. Since they were silk and skimpy, she covered herself in the big, comfy Calamity Falls sweatshirt she’d had since she was a teenager.
By the time the shower shut off, she’d dumped her clothes in the ice bucket’s plastic liner. There were no chairs in the one-room cabin, so she set up a picnic dinner in bed. She spread towels on top of the comforter and then gathered the food and a couple of water bottles.
The bathroom door flew open, and steam wafted out. Decker emerged with a white towel wrapped around his waist—
And that was it. Nothing else. Underneath, the man was buck naked.
His gorgeous, inked chest was on full display.
Dark-blond hair sprinkled the carved ridges of his six-pack and flat stomach.
His round biceps flexed and popped as he dropped his wet clothes on the floor.
Dozens of tattoos across his chest, arms, and thighs told a story only someone intimate with him would ever get to learn.
Without the boot, he hopped to the luggage rack. “Bad news. I sleep naked.”
“Not a problem for me.” She tossed a pillow at him. “Since you’ll be in the bathtub.”
“No tub.” He sorted through his clothes. “My point was that I don’t have pajamas. Because I don’t wear them.” He grabbed a few things. “Fortunately, I do have gym shorts and a T-shirt.” He dipped back into the bathroom.
She was thirty-one years old. She’d seen her share of bare chests and asses, but she had never seen the beauty that was Decker McKenna.
Finlay was right. Everything about him exuded sex.
He doesn’t walk; he prowls.
His voice had a rough edge to it, like his throat had been scraped raw.
He came off cold and distant—yes, like a machine—but his intense energy, the way he paid attention to every word she said, the way he looked at her like he was burning through the layers to get to her core…
all of it translated to a passionate lover.
And it roused the beast deep inside her.
She’d been attracted to Nate because of shared ambition. They understood each other on that one level. The only one she’d thought mattered.
But thanks to Decker, she was discovering a whole other one. One where her femininity, her sensuality simmered, waiting to be petted awake.
Well, it was awake now. And purring.
He came out and surveyed the room. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“If anyone’s on the floor, it’s me. You can’t take a risk with that ankle.”
“Well, there aren’t any extra blankets or even a sheet, so you’re not sleeping on hard wood either. We’ll have to share the bed.”
His nonchalance was almost insulting, considering all she could think about was that hard body, so warm and muscular, lying beside her.
Once he got dressed, he settled in beside her, and it became clear the bed’s heart shape was intended for lovers. The indentation at the top forced them to scoot down, but the pointed tip gave them no choice but to press up against each other.
“This bed sucks,” he grumbled.
She didn’t know if he meant the shape or the mattress, which was probably decades old. “Well, it’s all we’ve got.”
“We can put some pillows between us.”
“Just in case I can’t keep my hands off you?” She snorted. Yes, she actually snorted, and the sound was even louder and more obnoxious in the small room. “Trust me, my guy, I’m not into jocks.”
“Really?” He curled his biceps and kissed them. “Not even a little?”
“I have a mirror in my purse, if you’d rather keep yourself company tonight. Let me know.” She handed him the Caesar salad. “Dinner.”
“Well, hang on.” He reached for the gift basket. “We have a special wedding night treat. I think you’re really going to like this.” He pulled out the bottle of chokeberry wine.
The raffia tie held a note. For your special night. She grabbed his and hers camouflage-painted wine tumblers and waved them. “A toast to the new couple.”
“It is our honeymoon.” He untwisted the cap, poured the dark liquid into each metal cup, and sniffed. “An excellent vintage.”
She laughed and rummaged through the basket. “Look.” She held up a Star Valley Lovers Guidebook. Flipping through it, she called out the highlights. “Scenic overlooks, a hot spring…oh, good news. There’s a gun range nearby.”
“The couple who shoots together—”
“Better have very good aim.” She shook a roll of quarters at him. “This should keep us going all night.”
He took it from her. “I’m confused. Do you vibrate the bed while you’re fucking?”