Meet Me at the Chapel (14 page)

Casey wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Small. Intimate.”

She hadn't always dreamed of her wedding like many of her friends had—but she had dreamed of the children who would follow the wedding.

“I think I'd like to marry you right here,” Brock told her. “In this chapel.”

In her mind, she saw herself, in a simple antique white lace dress, standing hand in hand with Brock, inside the chapel. And the thought didn't scare her.

“I think the chapel would be the perfect place to get married,” she agreed.

He reached for her hand. “If we kept it small, Hannah would be able to attend.”

Casey rubbed her finger over the nail of his thumb. “I miss her.”

“So do I.”

Their minds turned to Hannah and neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes. Then Brock brought up the subject that had been on his mind all morning.

“I'm going to kiss you today, Casey.”

His comment had shifted the topic pretty dramatically and it made her laugh. He could never do anything in the conventional way.

“I'm giving you fair warning,” he added.

“Why do you think that I need fair warning?”

He gave her a look. “You know why.”

She did know why—every time Brock had even remotely acted like he was going to kiss her, she managed to find a reason to stop him. She had never been a fan of the first kiss—it was built up so much and what if she hated it? It was hard to imagine marrying someone you didn't like to kiss. That one kiss could ruin everything. And she hadn't been ready to risk it.

“Okay.” Casey made a decision; she stood up and held out her hand to Brock. “Come on.”

Brock smiled up at her. “Where are you taking me?”

“I'm going to kiss you.” She shook her hand for him to take it. “Are you coming or not?”

“Sorry, buddy, but you need to stay here.” Brock picked Hercules up off his boot and put him on the picnic blanket.

When the ranch foreman was standing, Casey took his hand in hers and led him decisively over to the chapel steps.

“You stay down there,” she told him while she walked up the first couple of steps. She turned around, and now that she was standing on the chapel steps, they were almost the same height.

Without hesitation, Casey put her hands on either side of Brock's face and pressed her lips to his.

It wasn't a deep kiss, but it was the kind of kiss that left an impression. She liked the feel of his beard beneath her fingertips and the firmness of his lips as they were pressed against hers.

“There!” she said when the kiss was over. “Now that's done.”

Brock seemed glad that they had broken that barrier. But she could see that he wasn't satisfied with just one short kiss.

“You're beautiful to me.” Brock pulled her closer. “I love you, Casey.”

And then he kissed her. His way. Slow. Deep. Sensual.

He held her so close that she could feel his heart beating against her breast. The first kiss confirmed that she loved him. The second kiss convinced her that she wanted to make love with him.

When they came up for a breath, Brock kissed her forehead and her cheeks and her neck.

“Tell me that you'll marry me here one day, Casey,” he said into her neck.

She hugged him tightly, resting her head on his chest, so she could still feel his heart that was beating so strongly for her.

“I promise that I will marry you here one day.”

She said it and she meant it.

Brock let out a whoop and tossed his hat in the air. He picked her up off the step and swung her in a circle until they were both a little dizzy.

They were laughing and out of breath when he stopped swinging her and let her slide down his body until her feet were safely on the ground.

Now that he could kiss her—now that she was willing to
let him
kiss her—that's all he wanted to do. There, in the sunlight, in front of the Bent Tree chapel and beneath the bright blue expanse of the Montana sky, the ranch foreman kissed the woman he knew would one day be his bride.

Chapter Fourteen

T
he decision to leave her bed that night and go to Brock wasn't difficult to make. The full moon was so crisp and clear in the starless sky and cast a glowing yellow light through the large loft window. She hadn't been able to sleep and she knew why. Brock was alone in the upstairs bedroom while she was alone in her bed—and it didn't need to be that way. They didn't need to be alone anymore. Not when they had each other.

Casey left the loft with poodle in hand—she quietly entered the house, dropped Hercules off with his girlfriend and then used the flashlight on her phone to light her footsteps up to the second floor. The same moonlight that had lit the loft was streaming into Brock's bedroom and dancing across the bed where her man was sleeping.

She stood by the empty side of the bed and pulled her braid over her shoulder to pull the hair tie from the bottom of the braid. She slowly unbraided her hair until it was swinging loose down her back to the top of her derriere. Brock was snoring softly, lying on his side, unaware that she was in the room with him. He wouldn't reject her. He had been patiently waiting for her. Casey pulled her nightie off and dropped it on the floor beside her bare feet. She hooked her thumbs on her silky bikini panties, slid them down over her hips, down to her ankles and then stepped free of them. Now she was completely naked in the moonlight. Vulnerable as she had never dared to allow herself to be before.

“Brock.” Casey said her love's name.

Brock heard his name as if he were hearing it in the distance—in the fog—so soft that he thought he was dreaming it. When he opened his eyes to find an angel with pale, pale skin covered only by beautiful strands of red hair, he thought he had imagined her. That he had wanted Casey to come to him so badly that his mind had manufactured her likeness out of thin air.

“Brock.”

She said his name again and this time he knew that this was not a dream—she was real. Casey had finally come to him as he had willed her to do in his mind so many nights.

“Are you sure you're ready for this?” His voice was husky from a mixture of sleep and need.

He saw her nod her head—he saw a small smile on her pretty pink lips. He pulled the covers back for her. As she walked the short distance to the bed, he soaked in the image of her ethereal body—so much softer and feminine in its nakedness. Her breasts were naturally rounded, not large, but perfectly shaped. The nipples—they had grown hard in his mouth. At the apex of her thighs there was a triangle of red curls. He wanted to bury his face there and taste her sweetness.

And then she was in his arms. Her skin was chilled from the night air—he covered her with the blanket and wrapped her tightly in his arms. She was shivering. He would have to go slow—it had been a long time in between lovers for both of them.

“This is it for me, Casey.” Brock curled his body around hers and kissed the back of her neck. “I love you.”

Casey responded by kissing his hand. “I love you.”

When her body was warmed, Brock let go of her just long enough to discard his underwear. She turned in his arms and they pressed their bodies together, for the warmth and the comfort. Her skin, so smooth and soft, was everything his skin wasn't. He was hairy and rough—she felt like silk all over.

He kissed her, slowly so he could enjoy it and deeply so she was reminded of things to come. She tasted minty, like toothpaste, and she moved her hips into his body as he deepened the kiss.

She gasped the sweetest, sexiest gasp when he flicked his tongue across the hard tip of her nipple. He held her breast firmly in his hand and sucked her nipple until she dug her fingernails into his shoulder.

“I've wanted to touch you like this for so long.”

Casey reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his erection.

Brock's body shuddered at the touch of her hand—it had been years since a woman had touched him like that.

His need had been so great, for such a long time, that he had been afraid he wouldn't be able to love her the way he wanted to on their first night. For weeks, he had been releasing himself so he could last long enough to bring her to climax. If he hadn't been preparing his body, that first touch of her hand may have been his rapid, untimely undoing. Especially since they had agreed that condoms weren't required—Casey had received a long-lasting birth control shot and neither of them had been sexually active in several years. Without a condom to reduce sensation, he could climax before they even got started.

“Are you okay?” he asked his love.

“I'm happy,” she said so quietly. “I love you.”

Brock worried that his hands were too big or too rough as he ran his fingers down her belly and along her muscular thighs. Her legs had grown so strong from a summer of riding—he could feel the power in them just as he felt the satin of her skin. He slipped his fingers between her thighs—so warm, so wet, so ready for him. He wanted to taste that warmth between her beautiful thighs, but he knew that he had to take his time with Casey. There would be time for more exploring and experimenting later. For now, he just wanted her to be comfortable in his arms, in his bed. He wanted her to adjust to his weight on top of her and the feel of having his body filling hers.

Casey started to tug on his arm, pulling him toward her. He lifted himself up and moved between her thighs. Brock held himself above her—he wanted to look down on her; what a pretty vision she created with her ivory skin against his dark sheets and her hair spread across his pillows.

She reached down between them to guide him. So tight. So tight and warm and slick. He slid his body into hers and they moaned in unison. Her body completely enveloped him; she felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Their bodies fit together so perfectly—it didn't make sense, but it didn't have to.

Brock lowered his body until his chest was pressed against her breasts. He slid his arms beneath their bodies so he could hold her even tighter against his chest. She mirrored him, wrapping her arms and legs around his body—drawing him in deeper and deeper.

“Am I too heavy for you?” he asked when he heard her gasp.

She gasped again and he lifted up his body just in time to see how the woman he loved looked when she climaxed. He stopped moving his body so she could set the rhythm, so she could use his body to prolong the orgasm. When she cried out again, and he felt the wetness of her release on his thighs, he couldn't hold himself back any longer.

“God, God, God...” Brock's body shuddered and his arms tightened around Casey.

After a minute of Brock laying his full weight on top of her, Casey pushed on his shoulder with a languid laugh.

“
Now
you're too heavy for me.”

He carefully disconnected their bodies then rolled onto his back. “Come over here with me.”

Casey curled up next to her bear of a man—she rested her arm on his shoulder, her hand on his furry chest, and put her leg over his thick thigh.

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes with a contented sigh. “We're really good at that.”

Brock laughed and kissed her on her damp forehead. “We are good at that.”

“I'm going to sleep now, okay?” Casey turned over onto her other side.

“Me, too.” He turned with her.

Brock shaped his body to hers, his arm beneath her body and holding her across her chest. “I love you.”

Casey tilted her head back so she could kiss him one last time. “I love you, sweet man.”

* * *

That first night of loving sparked a wild week of lovemaking. The more comfortable Casey became with him, the more risks she wanted to take. In fact, he wasn't usually the aggressor in the sexual arena—she was. She would come up behind him when he was cooking, unzip his pants and stimulate him with her hands. He could count several ruined meals because he wasn't about to pass up an invitation like that from Casey. She also enjoyed making love in the morning. He'd wake up with her mouth getting him hard and ready. Those were his favorite mornings—groggy with a raging hard-on and the love of his life climbing on top of him. That lovemaking was always sensual and slow, with Casey covering his body with hers, both of them beneath the covers. He'd wake up every morning that way if he could.

They loved each other so much that their body parts were sore—but it didn't matter. They couldn't keep their hands off each other and they didn't
want
to keep their hands off each other. And that included when they were supposed be showering to go out.

Instead of waiting for her turn in the shower, Casey opened the shower door and stepped inside. Brock was standing with his back to her, rinsing the soap off the front part of his body. She ran her hands across his back and started to lick little droplets of water from his skin.

“Mmm. That feels nice, baby.”

Brock turned around so they could hug each other while the hot water ran over their bodies. It didn't take long for her to feel his body start to respond. She leaned back and smiled up at him.

“Look at what you do to me—all you have to do is touch me.”

Casey lowered her body down, running her hands over his stomach.

“I need to lose a couple of pounds,” he said about his less-than-flat stomach.

Casey put her finger to her lips. “Shhh.”

When she took him in her mouth, he reached out to steady himself by putting his hands flat on either side of the shower. The hotness of the shower, the hotness of her mouth—he knew what she wanted from him—she wanted him hard and ready to love her. And that's exactly what she got.

Brock lifted Casey up into his arms, walked her to the edge of the shower so her back was pressed against the cool tile and while he was kissing her, he was sliding her down onto his shaft.

“Ah...” Casey dropped her head back as he kissed the water from her neck.

“It's too damn slippery in here.” Brock laughed. “I need to put something on the floor to keep my feet from sliding.”

Casey wiped the water off his face and kissed his lips. “Take me to the bed.”

Their bodies dripping puddles of water on the floor, Brock carried her to the bed and laid her back with her legs hanging off the side. Still standing, he guided himself back into her body and pushed her knees to her chest. They had loved each other enough that they could look into each other's eyes as they made love—and this was an entirely new position to enjoy.

Casey arched her back to take him deeper and then he hit something that hurt. She pulled away and held out her hand.

“Are you okay?”

She frowned with her hand on her abdomen. “That hurt.”

“You get on top so you're in control,” Brock told her.

That seemed to work. There wasn't any more pain. She rode him exactly the way she wanted to while he watched. She knew that he loved the feel of her hair brushing against his thighs when she was on top of him, so she tilted her head back and let her long hair slip across the tops of his legs.

Harder, faster, deeper, stronger—he let her choose the pace and the rhythm. So close, so close... Casey opened her eyes to find Brock staring at her.

“Come with me.” Casey put her hands on his chest and bore down on him.

Brock grabbed her hips and pushed her down onto his erection—faster and faster, harder and harder.

Casey dug her fingernails into his chest and tossed her head back at the same time he thrust all the way up inside her. Together, they climaxed, and Casey heard herself scream so loudly that it was fortunate that they didn't have close neighbors to hear her.

She collapsed on top of her lover, completely satisfied and happy.

“God I love you, Casey.” Brock held her closely, his fingers in her wet hair.

She loved how this man felt, how he smelled, the sound of his voice, the way he loved her with his words and with his body.

“I love you.”

Simple. To the point. True.

* * *

Later that night, after they had made love again, Brock was propped up on pillows and holding her in his arms. He was rubbing her back with his strong hands, kneading her shoulder muscles and making her moan in an entirely different way.

“Do you want babies, Casey?”

“Yes,” she murmured, not wanting him to stop the massage.

“Soon?”

“Yes.” She turned her head so it was flat on his fuzzy chest.

“I'll give you as many babies as you want,” Brock promised her. “Motherhood is going to look so good on you.”

“Fatherhood already looks good on you.”

They talked about the future and how the logistics could work. Casey had her condo in Chicago that needed to be leased or sold and then there was her job she had to consider. She loved her school. She loved her fellow educators. She loved her students. It would be hard to give up everything she had built there and start anew in Helena. But at least she had the type of career that could be translated to even a small community like Helena, Montana. She had to work. Even after they started a family—work would always be an important part of her life. Casey broached the topic of Clint and the tension it was causing with her sister, and to Brock's credit, he promised that he would try, for her sake, to forge a different path, a better path, with his stepbrother.

And, most important on his end of things, there was Hannah. She needed time to adjust to the reality of the divorce. Yes, her mother had been living in California for a while, but the divorce had officially ended that chapter. It wouldn't be right for her—for any of them—for Brock to jump right back into a marriage with Casey. And Casey had always believed that Brock needed time to process the end of his first marriage. Of course, she was concerned about her fertility window. Yes, she was still young enough to bear a child, but the clock was ticking. But, at least for now, she just wanted to enjoy the time she had left of her summer vacation, having fun and making love with Brock.