Mara McBain (4 page)

“I like your honesty. I’ve been told I’m not a real pleasant person when I’m mad, but then I’d like to know who is.”

“I never thought of it like that,” she said with a little giggle. “I suppose no one is.”

“I’d guess not,” he agreed, turning his head away to blowout a stream of smoke and then turning back to kiss the top of her head. “Does the smoke bother you?”

She shook her head, shifting against him so she could rest her cheek on his chest. They sat that way for a while, and he was pleasantly surprised she didn’t feel the need to out chirp the crickets.

“You ready for bed?”

She nodded against him, and he flicked the glowing butt into a bucket of sand. Boosting her to her feet, he stood and followed her to the door. She paused to say goodnight to Brute. The beast leaned into her, head lolling back and for the life of him Trey thought a smile on the dog’s face. Catherine had hated Brute, and the feeling had been mutual.

“How’d you make friends so quickly?”

“I just introduced myself and asked him to show me around. It was nice to have a friend to talk to,” Gen said, with a wistful smile.

He clenched his jaw, the words jabbing at an open wound. Was she going to start with the guilt and games already? He shifted so the moonlight fell on her face, and she looked up at him.

“You regretting it already?” he asked gruffly.

“Regretting what?”

He ground his teeth. She looked genuinely confused. Women were amazing actors, knowing just how to twist a man. What would this cost him?

“I didn’t have time to hold your hand today. I have a harvest to finish and a farm to get ready for winter,” he growled.

She blinked at him, backing up a step. The self-hug move was back as she rubbed at her arms.

“I thought I did a pretty decent job of staying busy and making myself useful today,” she said softly, her chin jutting in pride. “Your direction to ‘
stay at the house’
was open to a bit of interpretation.”

“And yet the orchard isn’t the house. Is it?” he snapped back at her and instantly regretted it. Why the hell had he said that?

Her eyes widened, and her bottom lip trembled before she caught it in her teeth. She straightened, shaking her head.

“No, sir, it’s not,” she said softly. “I wasn’t aware I wasn’t allowed to leave the house.”

The stiff formality in her tone grated on his nerves as did the hurt in her voice.

“You do what I damn well tell you. You got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

The familiar submissive response added fuel to the fire. What had he just told her about that?

“Get in the house.”

She backed through the door as if fearing his boot in her ass. She had no idea how close she was at the moment. She backed through the kitchen with him prowling after her. Pointing up the stairs, he didn’t say a word. Her hand shook as she reached blindly for the railing. She backed onto the first step, and then she spun, fisting her skirt to speed her scramble. Getting a grip on his temper, he shook his head and climbed the stairs at a more sedate pace. He needed a shower. 

Thudding her head into the pillow, Gen tried to rein in her temper and hurt. Her mind raced trying to pinpoint what she had done. Everything had seemed fine, and then Trey had just lost it. He’d had plenty of opportunities during dinner to question her leaving the house. She’d made no secret of it. Why suddenly after such a cozy few minutes on the swing had he snapped?

He was terrifying when he was mad. She blushed. When he’d leaned over her, his forefinger inches from her face, she’d wanted to slide to the floor and cry. She heard the shower shut off down the hall. Straightening the quilt, she tried to think what to say to him when he came in. She swallowed the tears that threatened. He wanted her to be a prisoner in her own home.
His home,
a little voice reminded. All the anger drained out of her at the thought. She had promised herself when she’d accepted his proposal that she would do whatever it took to make this man happy. He was offering so much. The least she could do was be an obedient wife. She bit her lip at the words and immediately sent up a prayer. She was going to need help with this one.  

With only a towel wrapped around his waist, Trey’s power was on full display. Tiny beads of water stood out on his broad shoulders and barrel chest. The bulge of his bicep when he tugged open a drawer made her wince. She hastily added a prayer begging for another chance to be the wife her husband deserved before he beat her. She licked her lips.

“I laid pajamas out for you,” she said softly.

He spun to look at her before his eyes darted to the sleepwear lying neatly across the foot of the bed. He nudged the drawer closed with his foot.

She bit the inside of her cheek at the strained silence. The light went out and she stiffened as the mattress shifted under his weight. Shivering, she slid toward him, wanting to recapture that feeling on the swing and feel his strong arms and steal his heat.

“Don’t act like a whore. It’s not a bartering tool.”

All the air left Gen’s lungs at the ice in his voice. She drew back like she’d been struck. Tears sprang to her eyes that she was helpless to stop. She crept back to her side of the bed, pressing to the edge of the mattress as sobs wracked her slender form. His words sounded over and over in her numb mind. How could the man that was so old-fashioned he took offense to his brother’s innuendos, say something so cruel? What would his precious Mama have to say about that? She shivered. The cold sneer had cut deep in her soul, wounding like no beating could have.

Cole took a drink of cold water and watched his older brother effortlessly toss bale after bale onto the wagon. Trey was a work horse on the best of days, but today he was like a man possessed. The tension this morning in the kitchen had made it difficult to choke down the fantastic breakfast Gen had made. His brother had been sharper than usual, and his new wife had kept her red rimmed eyes downcast and offered only meek yes sir and no sirs to anything posed to her. He’d nearly fallen off the porch when his old-fashioned brother’s parting words to the girl had been a warning not to leave the house or he’d beat her. What in the hell had happened between them after he’d left last night?

He’d been more than a little skeptical when Trey had told him of his plan to marry some girl he’d never met on the recommendation of his former brother-in-law and a couple letters. After the hell he’d been through with Catherine, it just hadn’t made sense. It was possible that he felt even sorrier for Genevieve. A person didn’t get to know Trey in two letters. He’d had an entire lifetime to acclimate himself to his brother’s many quirks and nuances, and there were still days when the man he shared hearth and home with felt like a complete stranger. Losing Mama had been rough and broken them both in many ways, but Catherine and their whirlwind romance had devastated Trey. He’d never been the warm and cuddly sort. Like their father, he was all hard edges and tended to be stoic and gruff, but less than a year with a city girl had turned his brother into a coldhearted bastard. She’d taken whatever warmth had resided in the big bear of a man and left a frigid block of ice in its stead.

He’d never liked the haughty bitch or her fancy ways. One corner of his mouth fell with disapproval as he stole another glance toward the house. Genevieve seemed different. The girl was actually trying. God knew Trey was not an easy man to tolerate, let alone love. Cole blew out a heavy breath and shook his head. For being the oldest, the big lug sure as hell wasn’t always the smartest. He had a good thing going here, and after just over a day, he was already starting to fuck it up.

Trey snatched the water jug from his hands, jerking him from thought. He tilted his head back and drank deeply. Despite the autumn chill, sweat darkened his older brother’s hair where his hat band had laid. Lowering the jug, he took a breath and narrowed his icy eyes on Cole.

“Now that I have it loaded are you going to help me get it in the barn or do you need to go wash your hair?” he snapped, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Cole reined in his temper and shrugged insolently. “I don’t know. Are you going to quit being an ass?”

Trey gave his head a tight little shake of disgust and put his hat back on. “Not likely,” he muttered and headed for the team, getting them moving toward the barn with a simple combination of voice and hand commands.

Cole shook his head. At least he was an honest ass. “Tell me again why we have the team down here instead of using some real horsepower,” he asked, trudging after his brother.

“The tractor takes gas. These two are getting fed whether they’re working or not. It’s common sense.”

“Damn, you sound like Daddy.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Trey answered with a slight quirk at the corner of his lips.

“You would,” Cole snorted. “I remember being told a time or two that if I didn’t work I didn’t eat. I take it that doesn’t apply to these lard asses?”

“They always work when asked. I can’t say the same for you.”

“I’m not you, Trey. All work and no play make Cole a very cranky man, or maybe that’s why you’re such a bastard all the time.”

“Watch your mouth.”

Cole rolled his eyes. Old-fashioned didn’t begin to cover it when talking about Trey.  “You’re going up top. You about knocked me out of the loft last time,” he grumbled.

“You don’t have enough muscle on you to get them up to me. If you’d get some lead in your ass you wouldn’t fall out of the loft.”

“With your fat ass, that wouldn’t be a problem for you up top.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t throw hay like a girl so that I have to lean out the door to snag them.”

“Maybe Genevieve will help you.”

“She’d probably follow directions better than you do.”

“Oh, wait, she’d have to come out of the house for that, and her big bad husband would beat her. Guess you’re stuck with me, Prince Charming.”

Trey stopped and turned so fast that Cole almost ran into him. He stumbled back a step as his larger brother advanced and jabbed a massive forefinger in his face.

“My marriage is none of your business. I’ve took all I’m taking out of you today. You better learn when to keep your mouth shut, boy.”

Cole cursed under his breath as Trey whirled and stalked back to the head of the wagon.

Gen paused on the step stool to stare out the window. She watched in open admiration as her husband tossed another bale of hay to the loft. Trey’s throws were dead on every time and the two brothers worked like a well-oiled machine. He paused, taking off his Stetson. Running a hand over the top of his head, he straightened his dark gold ponytail and picked up the water jug. She watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he took a long drink and then splashed some of the cold water on his face. He lifted the tail of his shirt to wipe the water and sweat away, and her eyes ran over his solid core and the golden hair that circled his navel.

Feeling a prickle of unease, she looked up and blushed as their eyes met. He put his hat back on, their gaze still locked. Her heart skipped a beat as she wished she could read his mind. He took a step toward the house, and she held her breath. Cole must have said something to him because he turned suddenly and looked up. As silly as it sounded, Gen missed his gaze. She stepped down off the stool and moved onto the next window.

His words from the night before haunted her. She’d thought of little else all day as she’d determinedly set about giving the house a thorough cleaning from top to bottom. She still couldn’t pinpoint what she’d done to anger him. Though he’d been tired and cross with Cole, there was no denying she’d done or said something on the porch that had lit his fuse. Then it had been stupid on her part to try lying on the poor man after he’d been working hard all day. How many times had her parents said that she just didn’t think before speaking or acting?

Sighing, she wiped the window frame down before spraying the vinegar and water on the glass and picking up a clean towel. Her mother had always said it didn’t matter who was at fault, it was a woman’s place to make peace. She wished her mama was here to tell her how to do that. A pensive little smile curved her lips. In the absence of her mother Adrienne would surely know how to make a man happy again. Men fell at that girl’s feet. If Trey thought she was passable, she couldn’t imagine what he’d think of her breathtaking friend. She snorted. Adrienne wouldn’t have spent a lonely night hugging the mattress. Gen bit her lip, her eyes drifting to Trey’s broad back. How could one night of sleeping cradled to him have left her with such an ache? 

Trey looked at the mouthwatering hot pork sandwich and mashed potatoes slathered in gravy and glanced back to his wife. She’d changed dresses since he’d seen her in the window. The pale green was flattering with her coloring, and the fit had him remembering why he’d bought it. Picking up his fork, he dug in. It was a hell of a lunch. Maybe she did want this to work.
Or she really wants something
. He grimaced at the whisper in his ear and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease tired muscles and the tension creeping in.

She set a glass of cold milk beside his plate before stepping back. He flinched as her hands curved around the top of his shoulders. Slowly, she started to knead, her thumbs digging deep into rigid muscle. His eyes drifted shut, and his exhale was half moan. A good shoulder rub was like a hard day’s work; it hurt so good. He smiled. How many times had he heard his daddy say those words? She seemed to know right where to press, and he felt his dominate right shoulder start to loosen. He took another bite, grunting his pleasure of food and massage alike.

His belly full, Trey finally reached up and laid a hand over fingers trembling with strain. Pulling her hand to his lips, he gave it a soft kiss. “Thank you, darlin'.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered. He could hear the blush in her voice. “Would you like more?”

He shook his head, not sure if she meant food or massage, but it didn’t matter. He stood, keeping a hold of her hand. Her pretty grey eyes were unsure as they widened. He tugged lightly, and she timidly stepped to him. Capturing her lips, he took his time claiming them until she melted against him, her heart hammering against his ribs. His hand slid down her spine, his big paw molding the curve of her ass possessively. She whimpered against his lips, her free hand closing in the back of his shirt. He savored her until the strain on his zipper was uncomfortable. With a low rumble of regret, he straightened up.

She clung to him, eyes glassy and lips kiss swollen. He ran a thumb over the bottom one. She kissed the pad of his thumb gently and he smiled.

“As much as I’d like to stay and dally with my pretty wife, I have work to do. Thanks for a great lunch and the shoulder rub, darlin'. I’m looking forward to the end of the day and dessert,” he said, his deep voice dropping on the last word as he gave her a wink.

Her cheeks colored even more, but it was the width of her smile that he’d carry with him the rest of the day. He headed back to work, his mood lighter. The fact obviously didn’t escape Cole, and they didn’t make it to the barn before his younger brother felt the need to weigh in.

“You really are a piece of work. It’s no wonder you don’t go into town. You’re probably worried they’re going to slap a strait jacket on you and cart you off to the loony bin. What in the hell was that?” 

“With my popularity I’m surprised they don’t lock me in the bell tower,” Trey said rolling his eyes. “And it’s called making up. I told you to stay the hell out of my marriage.”

“It’s like a train wreck. I can’t look away. Besides, with your record with women I’d think you’d take all the advice you can get.”

“I don’t need advice from you. I don’t see you married.”

“That’s because your first foray into the institution still gives me nightmares.”

“You and me both,” Trey snorted.

Stepping from the shower, Trey dried his hair vigorously and then secured the towel around his hips. Finger combing the tangled mane into some semblance of order, he secured it in a ponytail and headed for the bedroom. Dinner had been excellent. His new wife knew how to cook. The apple pie she’d baked had been perfect and his mouth was already watering thinking about the apple cinnamon coffee cake she had planned for the morning. If Catherine had fed him like this maybe he wouldn’t have begrudged her running up his accounts in town. On top of that, the house gleamed from top to bottom. If she wanted to make up, who was he to argue? He was a happy man.

Pausing in the doorway, he admired his wife’s slender shape as she dashed around the end of the bed and bounced onto the mattress like a naughty child. Her face flushed scarlet when she spotted him watching her. She bit her lip.

“I laid out pajamas for you.”

“Thank you, darlin', but I won’t be needing those for a while,” he drawled.

Gen giggled, and he couldn’t help but grin. She didn’t laugh enough. It was a beautiful sound. He strolled toward the bed, dropping his towel as he went. Gen pulled the quilt up to her nose until only her sparkling grey eyes peeked out at him. Her eyes darted below where his belt buckle would’ve been, and his grin widened with her eyes. Tugging the quilt away from her, he wiggled his finger at her. She scooted across the bed, and he slowly pushed her nightgown up until it bunched under her breasts. She shyly crossed her arms over her chest, and he shook his head.

“Lift your arms, darlin'.”

There was a little tremble in her limbs, but she obeyed him and he stripped the shift away, tossing it to the floor. His eyes ran over her naked body for the first time in the light. Though a tall woman, she was far from manly, or even the plain she had professed. She was slender with small breasts and pale nipples. The soft flare of her hips cradled a bright copper triangle of curls. He’d already experienced the pleasure there. It was her long legs that lit his fire. She had gorgeous gams.

He could track the trail of his gaze by the flush of her skin. He reached out and slowly stroked a hand from her ankle over the beautiful curve of her calf and up her smooth thigh. He continued the trek, following the flare of her hip and then splaying his hand over her concave stomach.

“You’re a lovely lass, darlin'. Don’t ever doubt that,” he mumbled, wishing he had the words to say it right and make her believe.

Her blush deepened and she couldn’t meet his eyes. He could see her muscles tense as he crawled onto the bed. The shift of the mattress rocked her against him, and her fingers shook on his shoulder as she steadied herself. Pressing her back into the pillows he followed her down loving the feeling of her cool skin against him. Her legs had parted for him this time, and he settled into the cradle of her hips with a groan. Rocking against her, he watched her face. Her eyes were so expressive. They flared wide, lightening to lovely silver. She blinked and pulled back; pressing into the mattress to ease the contact but that was inconsistent with the pretty gasp on her lips or the gouge of her nails in his shoulders.

Brushing his lips over hers, he drew a low whimper from her throat.

“Are you afraid, darlin'?”

She shook her head shyly, but her breath was short and her heart hammered against him. Shifting his weight to his left arm, he slid his hand between them to tease at the apex of her legs. A grin quirked his lips as he discovered her wet for him.
Hallelujah.
Sliding a finger into her, he captured her lips again, mumbling encouragement as he kissed her and thrust his finger in and out smoothly. Her hips rocked up into his hand, brushing against his arousal. He rubbed against her thigh, growling into her mouth as he deepened the kiss.