Let It Breathe (26 page)

Reese whimpered and moved her hands to her hips. She shoved her jeans down and kicked her legs free. One flip-flop went flying across the room, making a decided
flop
as it landed on the dining room table.

“Jesus,” Clay said, and eased away from her—not far enough to break contact, but far enough that he could see her. She was naked and beautiful in her kitchen, bathed in dim light and pinned beneath him.

She smiled at him over her shoulder. “You planning to join me, or should I cut you out of those jeans with a butcher knife?”

Clay reached for his belt, keeping one hand on Reese’s hip. He jerked his buckle free with the other hand, then tugged at the button fly. Reese wriggled her ass and squirmed against him and Clay released her for the ten seconds necessary to pull his jeans off the rest of the way.

He grabbed his wallet off the counter, fumbling for the condom he’d stuck there earlier on the slim chance Reese might be willing to give him another shot. He tore it open and slid it on, returning one hand to Reese’s hip.

The other hand grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck and tugged. Her back arched, pressing her perfect ass up against him. He felt dizzy for an instant as Reese groaned and moved against him, her palms pressing hard into the counter.

“Please—” she whimpered.

“Please what?”

“I want to feel you inside me.”

The urge to oblige screamed through his body, but he fought it. “Not yet.”

Instead, he let go of her hair and slid both hands around to cup her breasts. He leaned forward, using his weight to press her against the counter. He nudged her hair aside with his chin as his lips found the tender skin of her neck. He kissed her there, drawing his tongue along her hairline as his palms grazed her nipples, so softly he barely touched her. Reese writhed under him and pressed her ass harder against his groin.

“Clay, please—”

He bit the nape of her neck, and she bucked against him. He leaned closer, his breath against her ear.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Only mine. You’ve always been mine.”

“Oh, God, please!”

“For fifteen years, you’re the one woman I couldn’t stop thinking about. The one I’ve wanted, the one I’ve loved. Do you believe me?”

“I don’t—”

“It’s true. It was always you, Reese. Always you.”

She bit her lip, angled her head to look up at him. She blinked, her green eyes blazing. “For me, too.”

He plunged into her then, and her words turned into a startled cry. He held still for a moment, not wanting to hurt her. He slid one hand down, worried about her hip bones against the hard granite of the counter.

“Please, Clay!”

He didn’t require much more prompting than that. He slid his hand away from her hip, keeping one on her breasts but drawing the other one up to grasp a fistful of her hair. He gave another gentle tug and she arched her back again.

He moved slowly at first, hoping to hold on as long as possible. But she was so warm beneath him, so soft and wet.

Baseball
,
he thought, running through pitching stats to keep his mind distracted enough to make this last.
Tire pressure, dog food commercials, barbecue assembly—

He released her hair and slid his hand down, moving slowly over her rib cage and around to savor the contour of her hip before finding his way to the thatch of curls between her legs. She bucked against him as he found the spot that made her cry out.

“Oh, God,” she whimpered and pressed into his fingers.

He tried to be gentle, to make slow, delicate circles with the pads of his fingertips, but Reese squirmed against him, urging him to increase the pressure. He felt her clench around him, felt her soft and wet and tight as he thrust into her over and over.

He was getting dizzy now, and he knew he only had seconds left, maybe less if she kept moving against him like that.

“Oh, God, Clay—I’m so close.”

He thrust deeper, no longer afraid of hurting her. She screamed, and Clay gripped her waist, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh.

“Yes!” she screamed, and slammed against him.

Everything exploded then, the light behind his eyes, the throbbing in his eardrums, something deep inside Reese.

“I love you,” he murmured against her hair. “I’ve always loved you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Reese woke up blinking beneath a thin sheet of sunlight blazing through her half-open blinds. She grabbed the alarm clock, startled to realize it was after eight a.m.

She hadn’t slept that late in years.

She patted the mattress beside her, hating the twinge of disappointment she felt at discovering Clay wasn’t there. Sitting up, she swung her legs out of bed just as Clay swept through the doorway wearing a pair of boxer shorts and carrying a breakfast tray.

“Not so fast.” He set the tray on the nightstand, picked up her legs, and lifted them back into bed. Then he crawled in beside her and grabbed the tray.

Reese reached for a cup of coffee. “Breakfast in bed?”

“We already used the kitchen for bedroom activities, might as well use the bedroom for eating.”

“Very wise,” she said and bit into a piece of toast.

“I am wise. That’s why we’re going to argue now.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s your idea of post-coital romance?”

“No, breakfast is my idea of post-coital romance. The arguing is foreplay for more romance.”

She swallowed her toast and took a sip of coffee, studying Clay over the rim of her mug. He looked awfully cheerful, which made sense considering how many things they’d done last night to give each other reasons to smile.

But now it was daylight, and doubt was already trickling through her consciousness like it always did.

“You have doubts,” Clay said, apparently reading her mind as he spooned eggs onto a plate and grabbed a fork. “So I’m going to shoot them down one by one. Start anywhere you like.”

Reese shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. “This is all part of your new ‘say what you mean, even if it’s rude’ agenda?”

“Pretty much.”

“Fine. I run a vineyard. I
live
at a vineyard. You are a former alcoholic.”

“No, I
am
an alcoholic,” he pointed out. “I’ll always be an alcoholic. I just happen to be in recovery.”

“That’s not helping your cause.”

“Yes, it is, because I recognize it. You know how many drunks can’t do that?”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Clay shoved in a forkful of eggs.

“Chew,” he ordered. “Here’s the thing, Reese—I know myself better than I ever did when I was a drunk. I know what my triggers are and how to avoid them. I know what I can and can’t handle, and I know I
can
handle being at a vineyard. What I can’t handle is being at
this
vineyard with you always worrying I’m going to dive headfirst into a barrel of Chardonnay.” He gave a dramatic shudder. “I always hated Chardonnay.”

“I love Chardonnay.”

“Perfect. More for you. See how well this is working out?”

“You’re asking me to trust you,” she said flatly.

“No, I’m
telling
you to trust me. I’ll earn it—believe me, I’ve been working on that. But I need you to give me a chance.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “You’re right. I owe you a chance.”

“Damn straight. Next doubt?”

She sighed and nibbled the corner of her toast. “You slept with my cousin.”

“You slept with my best friend. Actually, you
married
him. That’s much worse, but I’m not dwelling on it. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because that marriage only lasted a year. And ours is going to last a lot longer than that.”

Reese choked on her toast. Clay handed her a glass of orange juice, patting her back until she stopped coughing.

She stared at him through watery eyes. “Did you just propose to me?”

“Of course not. I’ll be much more romantic when I propose. I’m only informing you that I will be proposing eventually, and when I do, you will say yes and we will live happily ever after.”

“You’re nuts.”

“That’s why you love me. And also why you’ll say yes to my proposal.”

Reese set her toast back on the plate, and Clay grabbed her hand. He lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of her knuckles. Reese sighed with pleasure.

“Are you going to argue?” he asked. “Tell me you don’t love me? That you don’t want to be with me?”

She looked up from her toast and met his eyes. Despite the cockiness in his speech, she saw real fear there. Reese swallowed as her eyes filled with tears.

“I can’t,” she said.

“Can’t argue or can’t be with me?”

“Both,” she said, swallowing hard. “Clay, I’m scared. I don’t think I’m cut out for long-term relationships.”

“That’s bullshit.”

She laughed. “That’s your argument?”

“No, that’s just the start of it. Want to know what I think?”

“Does it matter if I do?”

“No, I’m going to tell you anyway.” He took a bite of toast and chewed, while Reese wiggled her fingers inside his grip. His hand felt good—warm and solid and strong.

“I think you need to stop judging yourself by other people’s relationship standards,” he said. “You’ve been listening to Eric wax poetic about relationships being hard work and your parents spout about soul mates and Larissa yammer on about the importance of good sex and Axl tell you—actually, I’m a little afraid to guess what your grandpa’s relationship advice entails.”

“Nudist colonies,” she said. “Also, he says I should ignore everyone else’s relationships and focus on setting my own standards.”

“Oh,” he said. “In that case, I agree with him. The last part, not the nudist colonies. Smart grandpa.”

Reese smiled. “I hate to say it, but you’re right.”

Clay looked at her. “Really?”

She nodded and squeezed his hand. “Really. I know I’ve been a bitch. I know I’ve been a cynic. I know I haven’t given you the benefit of the doubt these last few days, but I’m going to change that. I
want
to change that. I want to be with you, Clay. I do.”

He laughed. “Damn. I didn’t figure you’d be this easy.”

She rolled her eyes. “You had me naked three days after you got back to town. You bent me over my own kitchen counter last night. You really didn’t think I’d be easy?”

He grinned and set the breakfast tray on the nightstand. Then he leaned over and kissed her. He tasted like orange juice and red peppers, and Reese was ready to drag him down on top of her and prove just how willing she was to make things work.

At least until her front door burst open.

“Reese? Reesey, where are you?”

She pulled away from Clay and sat up in bed. “Larissa?” she yelled.

Her cousin shoved through the bedroom door and dropped onto the end of the bed, cleavage bouncing under what was either a halter top or a jockstrap.

Larissa surveyed them and smiled. “Oh, good. You’re doing it.”

“Not at the moment,” Clay said. “But give us five more minutes alone—”

“Out!” Reese commanded. A flicker of hurt flashed in Larissa’s eyes, so Reese tugged the sheet up tighter around her breasts and softened her tone. “I love you more than anyone else in the world, except maybe Clay—”

“So you finally admit it?” Larissa grinned. “The part about Clay, I mean. Obviously, you love me.”

“I do love you,” Reese said. “And I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. But can you please get the hell out of my bedroom?”

“But I have something to tell you, and I have to do it before the others get here.”

Clay raised an eyebrow. “Others?”

“Let me put some clothes on first,” Reese said. “Then we can have a conversation in the living room like a normal family would.”

Larissa rolled her eyes, but stood up and trudged toward the living room. “Normal families are overrated.”

Clay grinned and shut the door behind her, while Reese scrambled out of bed and pulled on a rumpled pair of pajama pants and a thin tank top with no bra. She turned around to see Clay watching her and felt the warmth flood her body all over again.

“That’s a good look for you,” he said.

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll start dressing this way in the tasting room.”

“You’d certainly make my cork pop.”

Reese laughed. “It’s nice to see the old Clay is still in there somewhere.”

“Come on,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Let’s see what Larissa wants.”

They trudged out to the living room, where Larissa was bent over the baby opossum’s cage, cooing softly to the little animal. She looked up as they entered and gave them a broad smile.

“The morning-after glow looks good on you,” she said.

“Thank you,” Reese said. “And in case you missed it in there, I’m sorry.”

“No need,” Larissa said. “I have some growing up to do. I know that. I’ve been playing around for too long with boys and booze, and while I’m not a degenerate lush like Clay was—”

“Thank you.”

Larissa smiled. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he said. “I
was
a degenerate lush.”

“Right. And I don’t want to become that. So I’m going to get my shit together, starting with making better choices about men. Which is why I only let your veterinarian get to second base last night.”

Reese blinked, processing her cousin’s words. “Dr. Wally?”

“Yes. I met him at some art thing last night and we hit it off and one thing led to another and—”

“Um, congratulations?”

Larissa smiled. “Thank you. I figured you weren’t going to be dating him since you’re madly in love with Clay, so we should recycle the vet and I can date a nice guy for a change.”

“Very environmentally responsible of you,” Clay pointed out.

Larissa nodded and looked at Reese. “So are we good?”

“We’re good.” Reese bit her lip. “I’m sorry, ’Riss. For the things I said yesterday.”

“I’m sorry, too. You’re a grump sometimes, but you’re still my third-favorite cousin.”

With that, Larissa lunged and tackled Reese in a perfume-scented bear hug. It felt warm and messy and absolutely perfect, so Reese let Larissa topple them both onto the couch. She felt Clay let go of her hand, but he sat down beside them on the sofa.

The front door burst open again, and Reese remembered her cousin’s words about the others arriving. She heard the thud of footsteps in her foyer and wriggled free from Larissa’s hug as June marched in with Jed on her heels. “Honey? Reesey?”

Reese spit Larissa’s hair out of her mouth. “Doesn’t anyone in this family ever knock?”

June ignored her and hustled to her side. Jed followed as Axl and an unfamiliar man with a necktie and a neatly trimmed beard came through the wide-open front door.

“Come on in,” Reese muttered. “Make yourselves at home.”

Axl scratched his armpit and grinned at the three of them sprawled on the sofa in various states of undress. “Your grandma always liked a good threesome, too.”

“Morning, everyone,” Clay said, adjusting his boxers. “Good to see you.”

“You guys, can we maybe do this later?” Reese asked, folding her arms over her chest. “Like after I’ve had time to shower and put on something besides pajamas?”

“No dice,” Axl insisted. “We’ve got serious vineyard business to discuss.”

“Should we call Eric?” Clay asked.

“Hell, yes,” Reese muttered. “That’s just what this situation calls for. My ex-husband.”

Her father shook his head a little sadly. “Eric’s going to be tied up for a while with Sheila.”

“And not in the good way,” Axl added.

“There’s a lot to deal with,” June said. “The police and fire marshal and all. But we’ve been talking it over, and we agreed as a family we don’t want to press charges. How do you feel about that, honey?”

Reese swallowed. “You want to forgive and forget?”

“Not forget,” Jed said. “But forgive, yes.”

“I don’t know that the police will be as forgiving,” Reese pointed out. “There’s the whole arson thing and all.”

“We’re willing to be character witnesses,” June said. “We know she’s a good person at heart. She just made some really bad decisions.”

“Haven’t we all?” Larissa said.

Clay nodded. “Amen.”

“And if she does go to prison, I can help her out,” Axl said. “I got friends on the inside who can get her in with the right gang, teach her to make a knife out of a pork chop bone, all that good stuff.”

Reese shook her head, trying to digest it all. “How’s Eric handling it?”

“Okay, under the circumstances,” Jed said. “We gave him the name of this really good marriage counselor we heard of and—”

“Whatever,” Axl said, giving Reese a knowing look before waving a dismissive hand. “That’s not important right now. The important thing is that I’ve got your money.”

“My money?” Reese said. She felt Clay grab her hand, and the comforting squeeze reminded her this wasn’t some bizarre dream.

“Shit, girl—your money for the construction,” Axl barked. “I told you I’d come through. You know those ’shrooms I’ve been growing?”

Reese closed her eyes. “Axl, I really appreciate everything you’re trying to do, but illegal drugs are not the way to fund—”

“Shut up. Who said anything about illegal drugs? I said ’shrooms.”

“Oregon black truffles, to be more precise.” The man with the necktie stepped forward and offered his hand. Seeming to realize he’d barged into something more intimate than a normal business deal, he flushed bright crimson and began to stammer. “I’m, uh—I’m Tony Gavin, owner of—um, eighteen different fine-dining establishments around the Pacific Northwest.”

“Reese Clark,” she said automatically, reaching for his hand. “Vineyard manager who doesn’t generally hold meetings in her pajamas.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said. “Your family assured me now would be a good time to talk.”

“It’s fine. Go ahead,” she said. “My family has a warped sense of what ‘good time’ means.”

“It’s one of our finest qualities,” Axl said, grinning like he’d just figured out how to hot-wire a BMW.

Tony regarded him awkwardly for a moment, then turned back to Reese. “Your grandfather discovered what we suspect is the largest crop of Oregon black truffles ever found in this state, and he found them right here on your property.”

“The east woods,” Axl added. “The ones Dick’s been jonesing for all these years. Aren’t you glad I didn’t sell?”

Tony cleared his throat. “Not only did he discover a highly sustainable, preexisting crop, he and his, um—crew have been working on a cultivation system of adding lime to the soil to raise the pH and alter the soil chemistry while inoculating trees and—”