Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good Man\Promises Under the Peach Tree\Husband by Choice (46 page)

BOOK: Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good Man\Promises Under the Peach Tree\Husband by Choice
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Nina's shout mingled with his, her back arched hard as she rode through the sensations, her orgasm squeezing him hard and wringing every last aftershock from him until she collapsed against him. For long minutes, he didn't move. Couldn't speak. He just breathed in the scent of her skin and the feeling of rightness to have her in his arms.

Awareness returned a little at a time. First, Nina's hair brushing over his shoulder and tickling his neck as a strand stroked up and down with her breathing. Then a ceiling fan clicking overhead that had apparently been running all day. A cool breeze drifted over them from a window that must be cracked open somewhere. The sounds of the night—crickets and rustling leaves—reminded him of other fall evenings they'd lain together.

It emphasized a quiet that, in the past, they would have filled with words. Declarations of love. Devotion. All promises they'd failed to keep....

When Nina cleared her throat, he tensed. Not ready for whatever came next this time.

“It's the craziest thing,” she started, lifting her head from where it had been resting. Her honey-blond hair made a veil down one side of her face. “But my sexual hunger just morphed into real, physical starvation. Wouldn't it be a great time for a cupcake?”

She slid off the bed and reached for an ancient flannel shirt hanging on a hook near the bed. And, just like that time she'd done an impromptu striptease in the orchard, he was struggling to keep up with her.

Clearly, there wasn't going to be any talk of promises or what came next. Considering the intensity of what had just happened between them, that was probably for the best. Because no matter how much he wanted Nina back in his life, he wasn't any better equipped to keep her than he'd been eight years ago.

CHAPTER TWELVE

S
EETHING
WITH
EVERY
step back to the parking lot outside the fairgrounds, Ally couldn't help but watch as Rachel Wagoner flirted with Ethan as they passed under a street lamp flicking on and off in the darkness.

Ten of their classmates surrounded them, so it wasn't as if they were all alone. They'd just finished marking out the boundaries for the straw maze so that volunteers could start stacking the hay bales in the morning. Rachel was using the last of her spray paint to write her initial on Ethan's T-shirt while Ethan teasingly yelled at her and threatened to pull her hair.

Could they be any more obvious? Ally stumbled on some loose gravel like a klutz before regaining her balance.

Hurt burned a hole through her and it was all she could do not to sprint to her car. She forced herself to walk along with the rest of her classmates, though, her eyes on her car. She couldn't wait to get out of here and leave them all in the dust.

“Ally, help me!” Ethan shouted, dodging past Rachel to run toward her.

Seriously? She'd strangle him with her bare hands first. Didn't he understand how much these antics hurt her?

Ten pairs of eyes turned toward her and the ache in her chest mingled with embarrassment. No, worse than hurt. It was flat-out humiliation.

“I don't think so.” She shook her head and stared down at the gravel path between parking rows, picking up her pace so she could peel away from the group.

“Where are you going?” He reached for her, making a playful grab that she dodged. “Save me from the spray-painting troll.” He looked back at Rachel, covering his head as if he was cowering from her. “Stay away, troll!” Ethan teased.

But Rachel didn't answer. Ally glanced up at her, wondering why Ms. Perfect didn't swoop in and steal Ethan away in her Perfect-Mobile convertible. Rachel's spray paint can was down at her side as she went still, eyes narrowing as she stared down at Ally. Just like everyone else did.

Ally's hands clenched so tightly her nails bit into her palms. She'd never in her life felt so self-conscious.

“Hey! What's the matter?” Ethan's big sneakers scuffled to a stop on the gravel near Ally's car.

Rachel stood a few steps away, close to her own car but not moving toward it. Most of the other kids scattered toward their own vehicles, but Ally noticed no one started their engines. Probably too busy eavesdropping on the latest school drama. Too bad she wanted no part of it.

“Ask your girlfriend,” Ally shot back, glaring at Rachel. “She knows.”

It was apparent from Rachel's sudden silence that she was going to at least pretend some remorse for poaching the guy Ally liked.

“Girlfriend?” Ethan looked back and forth between them. “What are you talking about?”

More of their classmates shuffled away, retreating to their cars in pairs and clusters. Rachel shoved the spray paint can in her big designer purse and stalked their way. Great.

Tension wound Ally so tight she didn't want the girl anywhere near her.

“Satisfied?” Ally snapped at her. “Did you fake being friends with me today just so you could get closer to Ethan? Or were you just anxious to show off how much he liked you?”

“Ally.” Rachel shook her head fast in what could have been an urgent warning to keep her mouth shut.

But Ally was just getting warmed up. How often had she stuffed down her feelings this past year?

“What does it matter if he knows I like him?” Ally couldn't even look at Ethan, she was so embarrassed. But more than that, she was pissed at Rachel for stealing away the one guy she cared about. “You could have your pick of guys—”

A few cars away, some kids laughed. “Good one!” a boy shouted before a car roared away.

“Ally, you've got it all wrong.” Ethan moved to put an arm around her, but Ally shook him off. “You don't understand.”

“What do you mean, I don't understand? I have eyes. I'm not blind.” She plucked at Ethan's T-shirt where a silver letter
R
was already drying on one shoulder.

“It's a secret,” Ethan muttered, glancing over his shoulder as another car full of kids left the parking lot in a spray of gravel from a spinout, the headlights sweeping a giant arc. “Can you keep your voice down?”

“You of all people ought to understand about keeping secrets,” Rachel hissed at Ally, her eyebrows drawn together in an angry sneer.

And yet...her eyes glittered with tears in the moonlight.

“I knew it was just a matter of time before you lorded that over me.” Ally had been doomed the moment she started scratching in a public place. The moment she'd let her emotions get the better of her.

So why are you doing it now?
a voice inside her head asked.

She realized she had one wrist in a stranglehold, but she hadn't scratched anything yet. She let go.

“Ally, come on.” Ethan tried to put a hand on her shoulder again and she wondered why he bothered. Why wasn't he dragging Rachel away instead?


I
would never try to purposely embarrass someone with their secrets.” Rachel's words were so fiercely spoken, Ally suddenly realized they must be talking about something else entirely. Rachel pitched her purse into the open convertible and wrenched open the door. “But I'll give you a piece of advice. Those secrets will come back to bite you in the butt either way. So if I were you, I'd just tell him.”

She slammed the door hard enough to rattle the windows. Cranking the radio to a country station, she roared off into the night, giving Ally an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She'd been only nine when Uncle Mack's best friend had died in a car crash, but she remembered the horror and grief that had gone through the family the night they'd thought Uncle Mack had been the one behind the wheel.

“Why didn't you stop her?” She turned to Ethan, confused and rattled and so hurt inside she couldn't stand up straight anymore. She slumped down onto the hood of her car, not caring if she dented or scratched it. “What if she gets in an accident?”

“Suddenly you give a crap about Rachel?” Ethan shook his head. “What the hell has gotten into you? You
know
she's not my girlfriend. Didn't I show up at your house last weekend to try and get you to go out with me?”

Was that how he saw it? Happy surprise bubbled up for a second. Until she remembered how he'd flirted with Rachel. Hadn't he? Confused, she tried to recall his words to her that night on her front porch.

“You came over to see if I wanted to hang out.”

“What else was I supposed to say, Ally? That I want to kiss you so bad I'm in danger of failing math again because I think about you all period?”

Her brain stopped on “I want to kiss you” and wouldn't move forward. She stared up at him in the dark parking lot, grateful there were no other cars nearby. She'd crushed on him forever. Could he really, finally, want to be with her, too? Her gaze darted to his lips and her heart beat faster.

“But—” She shook her head to clear it even though she wanted more than anything to kiss him. “What about Rachel?”

“We're friends,” he insisted, a stubborn thrust to his chin. “That's the truth. If you want to know more, ask her.”

How mysterious was that for an answer?

“I don't understand.” She wavered, wishing she'd tried talking to Rachel more today instead of just assuming she was trying to steal Ethan.

“That makes two of us.” Ethan folded his arms across his chest, his shoulders more filled out than most boys her age, thanks to baling hay the old-fashioned way.

He might resent his family's green farming techniques, but they sure gave him muscles that girls drooled over.

“What do you mean?” She forced herself to focus on their conversation and not Ethan's swoony appeal.

“I don't understand you, either. Rachel said your secrets will come back to bite you. What the hell did that mean?” He glared at her. “Obviously Rachel's not the only one with something to hide. So what are you keeping from me?”

Words dried up in Ally's throat. Damn. It. Ever since her control slipped that day in the salon, she'd known it was only a matter of time before people in her life found out. She'd developed a false sense of security when rumors hadn't spread this week.

“It's not about you,” she said finally, hurt welling up inside her. She shifted positions on the hood and the metal squeaked in protest.

She wished they could go back to that moment when he'd said he wanted to kiss her. Once again, she'd screwed things up. The harder she tried to be with Ethan, the more she chased him away.

“But it's something I should know.” It wasn't a question, exactly.

Still...she knew he was hoping that she would deny she was hiding something from him. Of course, she couldn't.

Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She was going to lose Ethan before she ever had him.

“Fine. Keep your secrets.” He held his hands up in the air and took a step back. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

He stalked to his old truck, his image blurring as the tears started falling down Ally's cheeks. Just before he reached the vehicle, he spun around. She prayed he couldn't see her tears in the dark and resisted the instinctive urge to scrub them away.

“Get in your car while I'm here, Ally.” His voice came out tight and low. Could he be as upset as she was? “I can't leave you sitting out here alone.”

Because, of course, he was an awesome guy. She swiped at her cheeks and slid off the hood, the ground not too steady under her feet. She fished her keys out of her pocket with shaky hands. Unlocking the door, she dropped into the driver's seat, freeing him to leave.

This time, he didn't look back.

* * *

A
LLY
IGNORED
HER
buzzing cell phone as she drove through town to her grandmother's. Normally, she would have at least glanced at it to see who was calling so she could pull over if she needed to talk. Tonight, she didn't care. Her mother might be calling to say she was working late, which was her way of avoiding their house. Or her father might call to say he had to help a family who was worse off than them, which was his preferred excuse for avoiding them. And if it was someone from school, she definitely wasn't interested. She knew, without a doubt, Ethan would never call her again.

Not unless she told him her secret.

Which was impossible, since then he wouldn't like her anymore anyhow because he'd think she was some kind of freak. Basically, she had her pick of crap scenarios. Have Ethan avoid her because he thought she was jealous of Rachel and because she kept secrets from him. Or have him avoid her because he knew she was one step away from a psych center.

Happy times.

When she reached Finley Central—her father's name for the private cul-de-sac where her grandmother, aunts and parents all lived—she passed her house and noticed all the lights were on and the front door stood open despite the fall chill in the air. Both cars were in the driveway. Weird that they'd both be home, especially when she wasn't.

Mildly curious, but too upset about her own problems to borrow trouble at home, Ally pulled into Gram's driveway under the big red oak. In the distance, she saw a single light on in the barn which meant Uncle Mack was home, probably doing restoration on the place. Both of her aunts' houses were dark, though.

Bypassing the front door, Ally walked through the wraparound porch to the side entrance. The sunshades were pulled down in the screened-in outdoor room off the porch, but a nightlight helped her navigate the big rattan furniture. Inhaling the scent of lemon cleaner and dried lavender from a nearby decorative bowl, Ally knocked on the old-fashioned wood door with a heavy lead-glass insert. Inside, she could see a candle burning on a kitchen counter, the candlelight swirling in a prism effect through the lead glass.

“Gram?” Ally called, trying the doorknob. When it turned, she opened the door a crack and peeked in. “Gram?”

Her grandmother walked from the front room in a bright caftan and matching head scarf, her black felt slippers making an appearance with each step.

“Well, I did try to get to the door when you knocked.” Gram observed dryly, pointing a weathered finger with a heavy ruby ring. “I am more of a tortoise than a hare these days, you know.”

Ally's heart lightened as she ditched her bag on the kitchen table and hurried toward her.

“I've missed you.” She hugged her grandmother carefully, her cheek as tall as Gram's headscarf. There was no sign of gray in her hair, her platinum locks as blond as ever, if a little thin.

“I've had some bad days, to be honest,” Gram admitted, reaching for a nearby wall to steady herself as she attempted to turn around. “But then, I hear you have, too.”

Ugh. Ally's good mood evaporated as she stayed a step behind her grandmother while the older woman navigated the living room furniture toward her recliner. Like the rest of the house, the purple leather chair was as unique as Gram herself.

She'd been pissed when Ally's aunts and uncles had bought her an “old lady chair” with an electric lift, so she'd hired a furniture maker and reupholstered the original brown fabric with a vivid orchid one. Or, as her aunt Erin called the color, Violet Vomit.

“I hear Audrey Hepburn is great for when you're feeling down.” Ally didn't hold out much hope she'd distracted Gram with the offer, but she had to try. “I can start the popcorn.”

“Sometimes when you're feeling down, it's better to discuss it.” Her grandmother's brows furrowed. “They call it talk therapy, and the doctors today, they love it.”

Ally leaned closer to fold the hem of Gram's caftan over her legs so it wouldn't catch in the chair.

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