Just Say Maybe: A Thistle Bend Novel (16 page)

He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, cradling her against him. She fit just right, her head resting on his shoulder. He leaned down and whispered, “What did I do to deserve you?”

Bryce held her there in silence as the sinking sun set the sky on fire with yellow and purple and orange. In this serene setting, everything fell away except the two of them.

The temperature cooled, but holding Holly kept him plenty warm. His body stirred with desire, his need for her building with every breath. Eager to have her even closer, he smoothed his hands beneath the fleece pullover she had tied at her waist, loosening it until he could tug it away. As he dropped it by the backpack, she nestled more closely to him, the curve of her behind bringing his cock to attention.

Skimming his fingers down her sides, Bryce untucked her shirt, sliding his hands beneath it, the lightweight sports fabric skimming his knuckles like feathers. He clutched her waist, loving the feel of tight muscle beneath satiny skin.

Holly rolled her head against his chest. “Your hands feel so good,” she said breathily, encouragement in her tone.

His heart surged. Longing to touch all of her, he swept his hands farther up and cupped her breasts, cursing her bra for interference.

She arched at the gentle pressure of his hands. “Take it off. No one in an SUV is going to interrupt us this time.”

Bryce’s cock jumped, fighting against the zipper of his jeans. No doubt Holly could feel how much he wanted her. He reached between them and unhooked her bra. Drawing in a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment and smoothed his hands beneath it. Her shapely breasts were warm and firm and supple in his hands, her nipples becoming erect from the teasing circles of his fingers.

“This is a fantasy,” he murmured into her ear, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

Holly turned to face him and met his gaze, brushing a lock of hair away from his face. “I can see the sunset in your eyes.”

Bryce drew her to him and kissed her with all the fire inside him. She matched his passion as she untucked his shirt, lifting it with a sensual swipe of her fingers against his abs, urging him to remove it. Interrupting their kiss, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the grass.

Holly lightly kissed his pecs, tracing her fingertips along each cut of his abs. He clenched his jaw as she moved lower, his heart thundering as she focused her attention on the button of his jeans. She slowly unfastened it and pulled down his zipper, tick by pleasurable tick, relieving some of the pressure.

“Mystery solved,” she said lightly. “Boxer briefs it is.” She slipped her hands beneath the waistband and pushed them down with his jeans, allowing his erection to spring free. She met his gaze and gave him a shy smile, as if she liked what she saw. Proving it, she tightly gripped his cock and kneeled in front of him.

Bryce’s breath caught as she took him in her mouth, pleasing him as if she knew precisely how he preferred it. He tangled his fingers in her hair, his head tipped back, channeling all the discipline he’d learned in search and rescue, trying not to let go.

As he neared the edge, he reluctantly pulled away from her and drew her to her feet. “Lie down with me,” he said. He quickly pulled off his boots and his jeans, grabbed his emergency condom from his wallet, and put it on top of the pile. In the short time it had taken him to shuck the rest of his clothes, Holly had pulled off her boots, respectably more modest than he.

Bryce skimmed his fingers from the V-neck of her shirt down to the hem. “Let me,” he said, eager to see all of her in the glow of the sunset. He pulled her shirt and bra over her head with a gentle
swoosh,
getting his first glimpse at her perfect breasts as her hair settled around her shoulders and skimmed her pink nipples.

Good God.

He cupped her breasts in his hands, resisting the urge to get carried away…yet. Lightly brushing the pads of this thumbs over her nipples, he combed his fingers down her flat midsection until he reached the waistband of her pants. He unbuttoned them, slid them down, and helped her step out of them, leaving her wearing only a tiny pair of lacy lavender panties. He stood still for a moment, taking in the sight of her.

Dazed by the rush, he murmured, “Like you said, there are no words…” He bent and lifted her. Cradling her against his bare chest, he kissed her gently and laid her down on the soft bed of silky grass, the mountain peak rising behind them, the sky swirling with color above.

Bryce knelt next to her, unable to get his fill of looking at her body. He skimmed his fingertips across her lips, trailed them along her neck and across her breasts—where he lingered—all the way down to the delicate lace of her panties. Sweeping his hands beneath them, he slid them down her toned, slender legs, and set them aside. He settled next to her, skin to skin in the soft grass, and kissed her tenderly. Longing to be inside her, he gently gripped her thigh and spread her legs. With a feathery touch, he traced his way to her velvety folds, parting them and finding her ready for him.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered. He kissed her more deeply, the rhythm of his tongue matching that of the two fingers he slid inside her. She clutched his pec and arched for him, her sexy whimpers tempting him to take her now.

Bryce moved between her legs, his heart hammering, his cock rigid and ready. He kissed Holly’s breasts and followed the same path his fingers had traced until his mouth was on her.

Tasting her.

Teasing her.

Taking her to her limit.

Her breaths became ragged as she clutched his head, her fingers twined in his hair. “Bryce,” she cried as she shuddered, turning him on even more. He kissed her inner thighs as she settled, his cock aching for release. Pulling away, he reached for the condom packet, ripped it open, and rolled the condom on.

He lay between her legs, propped himself on his elbows, and gazed at the sunset in her eyes. “I want to remember this moment,” he said huskily. “Hopefully we’ll be doing this forever, but we’ll only have one first time.” He kissed her lightly, and brushed his cock against her sensitive folds.

“I’ll never forget it,” she whispered, lifting her hips and urging him to take her.

Bryce entered her gently, inch by sweet, slippery inch, enveloped by her slick tightness. He gathered her to him and rocked her slowly, their bodies in gentle rhythm, her breasts firm against his pecs.

“God, Bryce,” she said urgently. “I’m coming apart again.” She thrust her hips upward, out of rhythm. Crying out, she unleashed his passion.

He plunged into her recklessly as she shattered around him, giving her all he had until, with one final thrust, his world burst into colors brighter than the fire in the sky.

Holly chose scrambled eggs with cheese.

She had stayed at Bryce’s place last night and, just as he’d promised, the sleepover had included breakfast.

The sleepover…

Holly sighed contentedly. Glancing at the clock in her bedroom, she shook her head, trying to clear the hazy afterglow from her mind.

Can you focus on anything without thinking about what happened last night?

She was back at her house, standing in front of her closet, staring blankly at her clothes as if she’d never coordinated an outfit in her life. Bryce was due there in ten minutes. As much as he might prefer her not to be clothed, they had to go out today—to the farmers market, and to the Princess to have Bloody Marys with Lindsey, Milly, and Merri.

Holly hoped the sisters would have some clue about what had happened to the woman from the suite at the lodge, or at least be able to identify her. Those quirky little ladies had been around Thistle Bend a long time, and they seemed to have a secret stash of information that came in handy at the most critical times.

Bryce needed to find out the truth about the woman before inspections started at the lodge this week. The stacks and strewn-about newspapers in his cabin told Holly how concerned he was about the questions surrounding the woman. They seemed to be the last remaining barrier between him and his vision of how things would go with the purchase of the lodge. He wasn’t naïve—he knew people might not be pleased with his plan, and he’d calculated that in his decision. But the eerie suite and the lady who’d lived there hadn’t been part of his equation.

That’s why she’d been eager to take him to the special spot on the mountain last night. To show him how beautiful the lodge looked from there and encourage him to stay motivated toward his dream. The place was definitely romantic—idyllic and awesome and vast—but she hadn’t anticipated things getting so sexy. Tingles swirled through her as her thoughts strayed back to the dazzling sunset. The long, soft grass. The heat of Bryce’s skin against hers.

“Hopefully we’ll be doing this forever, but we’ll only have one first time.”

His words played in her mind like a favorite song that she wanted to hear over and over. They’d had a perfect first time together. Her secret place had become their special place. Now she was eagerly awaiting their next time, and swooning over every memorable moment from last night.

Even the eggs had been delicious.

Holly pulled an outfit together—a nice pair of textured black leggings, a black camisole, and an empire-waist tunic made of brightly colored satiny fabrics, accented with knitted black lace. Boots, a bracelet, and some earrings polished her look. It was too fancy for the farmers market, but just right for meeting with Milly and Merri at the Princess. They were two of the best-dressed ladies in town, always prim and classy—even at the farmers market.

A knock sounded on the door just as she spritzed her perfume in the air and walked through it—a trick her grandma had taught her to keep the scent light. She went to the door and opened it. Her heart did a backflip at the sight of Bryce looking fresh from a shower, handsome in a plaid button-up shirt with the sleeves turned up, nice jeans, and the cowboy boots he’d worn when he’d come to her office looking for H. G. Birdsong.

He held a beautiful bouquet of mixed wildflowers and offered them to her. “They missed you.” He brushed a kiss on her lips. “Just like me.”

Could he be more adorable?

“Aw.” She took the bouquet, smiling, and stepped aside as he came in. “You got these from the riverbank?”

“Yep.”

“They look like a florist put them together.”

That cute, crooked grin tugged at his lips. “Told you I’m a man of many talents.”

She trailed her fingers down his forearm. “You’ve already convinced me of that.”

“So the eggs were pretty good, too?”

Holly laughed, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him—a nice, long, thorough kiss. Before she got carried away doing all the other things she wanted to do to him again, she said, “I better put these in water.”

She took the bouquet into the kitchen, which was open to the living and dining areas, ran water in a pretty quilted-glass vase, arranged the flowers, and set them in the middle of the kitchen island where she could see them from anywhere in the room. “Perfect.”

“You’ve got a sweet setup here,” Bryce said. “I kinda thought it might look like a mom-and-dad house inside—considering this is your family home. But it really says Holly the second you walk in the door.”

She’d taken her parents at their word, and treated the house as her own. Her television might be stuck on HGTV, for all she knew, because she hardly ever switched the channel.
Fixer Upper
was one of her favorite shows, and she’d modeled her décor after the hosts’ farmhouse—comfortable and cozy with a few sophisticated touches. Grays, taupe, and ivory for the basics, allowing her to switch up the accent color whenever the mood struck her. Right now it happened to be bright green.

“Thanks.” Holly joined him near the door. She grazed her fingernails up and down his lower back. “I can’t wait to hear what the bedroom says.” She winked.

“Me either.” He grinned. “But we’ve got some shopping to do and two little old ladies to meet.”

They left the house and walked hand in hand along the three blocks to Larkspur Avenue, where one end of the street was blocked off for the farmers market. The morning was brisk and sunny, perfect for perusing all the goodies for sale beneath the white canopies lined up on both sides of the street. This year, they’d even added an arts market, where local craftsmen came to sell their wares. Lots of people milled about, and a long line had formed at one of the booths on the corner, trailing down the adjacent cross street.

Holly pointed to the line. “Look at everyone in line at Milly and Merri’s booth—and the market will be closing in half an hour.”

“Lindsey said they sell out every week.”

Holly nodded. “Probably any minute now. We’ll have to catch them early sometime.” They strolled past vendors selling fruits and vegetables, baked goods, cheeses, and meats. She ignored the sidelong glances from the locals, their curious gazes on Bryce. They’d find out who he was soon enough—and she hoped once they did, things would go well for them both.

Bryce tugged her toward a nearby booth. “Cottonwood Creek Winery. We should get another bottle from Roy. You seemed to like that Pinot Noir we shared on the deck at the lodge.”

“I can’t believe you remembered his name,” Holly said lightly.

Bryce stopped and faced her, setting his serious gaze on hers. “I remember you mentioning him, and that he drives here from Paonia every Sunday. But most of all I remember the wine.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “And how it tasted on your lips the first time I kissed you.”

Holly feared she might melt into a puddle right there in the middle of the farmers market. Heat rushed into her face.

Bryce stood straight, a sultry look in his eyes, his lips in a kiss-me pucker.

“It
was
delicious,” she said. “Maybe we should buy several bottles.”

They stepped over to Roy’s booth, where his wines were displayed on a high table with a white cloth. A loaf of homemade bread from the vendor down the way sat on a wooden cutting board in front of a display of bottles. Half of the loaf had been cut into bite-sized pieces to be eaten between tastings of each varietal.

“He offers tastings?” Bryce asked.

“Sure do,” Roy said.

“Mornin’, Roy.” Holly ducked around the table and gave him a friendly hug. Middle-aged and medium-sized, his formerly brown hair had gone to salt-and-pepper over the years that Holly had known him. “I’d like you to meet Bryce.”

The men shook hands.

“Nice to meet you,” Bryce said. “Forgive me for being forward, but I already love your Pinot.”

Holly stifled a smile and shook her head as Roy laughed.

“Spoken like a man with impeccable taste,” Roy said. “Would that be Gris or Noir?”

“Noir.” Bryce leaned down and surveyed the bottles on display. “Haven’t had the pleasure of the Gris.”

“We can fix that right away.” Roy turned, pulled two glasses from a crate on a table behind him, and an opened bottle of wine from the adjacent cooler. He poured generous samples for Bryce and Holly.

She swirled the wine in her glass, tipped it to Roy and then to Bryce, and took a sip. “Cool, crisp, and clearly perfect for summer picnics.” She took another sip.

Roy looked at Bryce curiously.

“What the pretty lady said.” Bryce pulled his wallet from his pocket. “We’ll take a Noir and a Gris.”

Roy took Bryce’s payment and bagged the wine for them.

“Thanks, man,” Bryce said. “Keep up the good grapes.”

Roy smiled. “Will do.”

“See you next week.” Holly waved as they walked away and nearly ran into her grandpa and Dean, both carrying a bag from one of the vendors. “Hey there,” she said, her heart warming as she gave each of them a hug.

Her grandpa shook Bryce’s hand and gave him a friendly smile. “Fine job you did planting those carrot seedlings.”

Bryce nodded. “Thanks to your instructions. Hope you get a bumper crop.”

“Dean,” Holly said, “you remember Bryce.” Holly knew enough about the two older men’s friendship to be certain that her grandpa had told Dean about their day at the farm yesterday.

Dean stood nearly a head shorter than Bryce, looking sheepish. “I think I owe you an apology.” Clearly uncomfortable, he extended his hand to Bryce. “I might’ve been a little too abrasive when we chatted the other night.”

Bryce shook his hand without hesitation. “No worries. Can’t fault you for looking out for Fred.”

Holly was happy to hear Dean’s apology to Bryce, and not surprised by Bryce’s gracious acceptance of it. She glanced down the street and noticed that the line had dispersed at Milly and Merri’s booth. The assistants who helped them on Sundays were packing the bins left empty from all their sales. Milly and Merri were nowhere in sight. She stole a glance at her watch. “Sorry, but we’ve got to run,” she said to her grandpa and Dean. “We’re meeting Lindsey at the Princess in a few minutes.”

“And the Montgomery sisters,” Dean said.

She turned to Bryce and shrugged. “Everyone knows everything in Thistle Bend.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“We saw Lindsey,” her grandpa said. “She told us how excited Milly and Merri are to meet Bryce.”

Dean nudged Bryce’s elbow. “Watch out for those two little ladies. They’re sweet enough, but I swear they can see right through you. Like they know what you’re thinking before you even know yourself.”