Page 27 of Protecting What Is Mine

12

Mollie

The sun has already begun to set when Hank and I roll up to the front of the barn and for the first time today it hits me…I am exhausted. Hours spent clinging to him as if my life depended on it have my arms aching and my throat hoarse. Too much squealing like a kid will do that, I suppose.

Hank kills the engine and twists in his seat, offering his hand to help me climb down. “Diesel? Buddy? Where’d you get off to?” Hank yells. He helps me with my helmet and then starts to push the ATV back into the barn. “Be right back,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing.

A light breeze blows as I wait in the driveway, cooling the beads of sweat on my forehead. I close my eyes and lose myself in the moment, appreciative of the day and wishing it never had to end. When I’m with Hank, I feel different—better somehow—than I ever have before. There’s something about him, something about the way he looks at me. Not like most men. Not like he just wants to take me to bed, though I have seen that glint in his eye too. It’s more than that. One look from him, just one, and I feel safe and cared for and wanted and special.

All that from one look? How’s that even possible?

I revel in naughty fantasies of Hank and me together until a growl in my tummy brings me back to the present and reminds me how long it’s been since our sandwich and lemonade picnic.

Hank re-emerges from the barn and stops to lean against the door. “Please don’t tell me you have to go. I’m not ready to say goodbye, yet. Stay for dinner at least?”

“Hmmm.” I playfully kick at a loose rock in the gravel. “Depends. What are you having?”

Much to my surprise, Hank drops the light and flirty pretense we’ve both abided by up to this point and gets straight to it. “You, if I have my way.” He smiles. “But if not, I suppose we could throw some steaks on the grill.”

“How will we ever decide?” I ask in my best little girl voice.

Hank closes the gap between us. “How about we get cleaned up while you think it over?” He pulls me to him and kisses my neck.

I step back and look into his emerald eyes. “Well, I am all hot and sweaty, but I don’t have anything to change into.

Without skipping a beat, Hank smiles. “Sounds good to me.” He takes my hand and leads me toward the house. “Where’d that damn dog get off to?” he asks himself, while doing his best not to seem worried.

When we step onto the porch, we find the answer. There he lies, fast asleep by the door, patiently waiting for his new master’s return. Diesel lifts his head as we approach, his tail eagerly wagging, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Hank stoops in front of the pup. “Black dog stuck out in the heat on an August day. You must be miserable, huh buddy? Let’s get you some fresh water.” Hank offers an apologetic look as he guides the pup back over to the side of the house where he opens the faucet and rinses out one of the bowls from before. He fills it to the brim with fresh water then pats Diesel on the side as the pup slurps at the refreshing liquid.

“Now, where were we?” he asks as he climbs the steps and opens the screen door. “I think it had something to do with getting you out of those sweaty clothes.”

“You’re the one who’s all sweaty, not me,” I counter.

Hank looks down at himself, smiles and pulls his tank top over his head. “When you’re right, your right.” He opens the front door and steps aside. “After you.”

I step inside. Normally, I would be appreciative of how wonderful the conditioned air feels on my hot, sticky skin. Today, the only thing I can appreciate is the strong lines of Hank’s bare torso. He steps behind me and closes the door, then gently tugs at my shirt. “I believe we were going to get you cleaned up while you considered your dinner choices.”

I turn my neck. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. Heat stroke is nothing to joke about. Why…I’m afraid if we don’t get out of these clothes and into a shower, you might be at risk.”

“Oh no. Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to succumb to heat stroke and set us back on that awful streak we had been stuck in.”

“Certainly not,” Hank says as he unfastens my belt. “Follow me.” He pulls on my belt buckle, leading me into the bathroom where he opens the shower curtain and turns on the water.

I can’t believe this is happening. If Sam knew where I was right now she’d be beside herself. I am not that kind of woman…I would never let a man…but then again, Hank isn’t like any other man I’ve known. “Are we really going to take a shower?”

Hank lifts the knob, diverting the water up to the shower head before he turns to look at me. “Only if you want to. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing too fast, but if you’re ready for this, I know I am.” He runs his hand along my cheek. “Are you? Are you ready for this?”

I bite at my bottom lip as I nod.

Hank smiles and reaches past me, pressing his body into mine as he retrieves two fresh towels from the cabinet and sets them on the edge of the sink. He kicks off his boots, unfastens his jeans, and then with one fast motion—voila, he stands before me completely naked. Hank reaches in and tests the water. “That feels amazing,” he says, before stepping into the shower, dipping his head into the water to soak his hair and face.

I take off my shoes and set them next to his boots, then undo my jeans, take a deep breath, and join him under the stream of water. When Hank feels my hands on his back, he turns and wipes the water from his eyes. His smile grows as he looks me up and down and his eyes dance with approval of what they see.

“My God, you are magnificent. More beautiful than a man deserves—especially this man.” Hank steps out of the water to make room for me to wet my hair and face. When I open my eyes, he has a bottle of shampoo ready to dispense into my palm. His hands are magic, gently touching and caressing and exploring my body as I wash. His thick fingers trace a line down my hips, lightly, and ever so slowly toward my knee, then across and back up my inner thigh. With each inch that his touch draws closer to my core I struggle to breathe, finally gasping and bracing myself for what comes next.

Much to my surprise, Hank stops short, moving his hands to my waist instead. His touch sets off a series of goosebumps across my chest and arms. When he notices, he smiles and redirects his focus to my breasts. He cups one in his hand, lowering his mouth to lick the droplets of water from my nipple.

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