Page 29 of Snowed in with the Rancher

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his eyes full of heat.

“Yes,” she answered with a smile before sitting up and pulling her t-shirt over her head.

His gaze fell to her chest and she grinned at him. Yes, motherhood had given her more to work with there. She was glad he seemed to like the change. “Your turn,” she teased.

He did that thing that guys do when they pull their shirts off by grabbing the back of the neck and pulling it over their heads. She wondered, not for the first time, how men managed to make something so mundane look so sexy.

He leaned down and kissed her again before standing up straight and saying, “Now you.”

She stood on the bed and hitched her thumbs under the waistband of her yoga pants before shoving them down her hips. The soft bed proved to be a problem when she tried to balance and kick them off her feet. She struggled to keep from falling off, but then Tate wrapped his arms around her hips and held her steady, pressing his lips to the bare skin of her stomach.

“Don't look too close,” she whispered as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Stretch marks everywhere.”

He pulled back and looked at the faint silver marks along her abdomen. He surprised her by tracing them with his fingers before kissing each one in turn. “These are beautiful. Every one of them. They're proof of how amazing you are.” Her heart melted.

Before long, he'd managed to remove the rest of her clothes, and his. She lay back on the bed as he gazed at her, his expression soft.

“Do you remember the night we ate at the Italian place on the ship?” he asked, his voice almost as soft as his breath on her skin.

“It was the first time you ever had pesto,” she answered, thinking back.

He chuckled as he reached down and pulled one of her legs up around his waist. “Actually, I was referring to after dinner.”

Yes, she remembered that. It would be hard to forget. In fact, if she were pressed, she'd guess that was the night she got pregnant.

Her cheeks heated as her mind traveled back to that particular night. “Um, yes, I remember it.”

“That night was when I decided that you were the most perfect woman I'd ever seen.”

She sighed as his fingers brushed down her center and his lips caressed her neck.

Slowly, so slowly it nearly made her scream, he entered her, one delicious inch at a time, until he filled her so completely, she thought she might cry from the rightness of it.

His breath came heavy and quick. “You're still the most perfect thing I've ever seen…” He paused as he withdrew, then pushed in again, harder. “Or felt.”

“More,” she gasped, arching into him.

And then there were no more words, just breaths and touches, the slide of slick skin, the whisper of smooth sheets. Everything became parts of a whole, the curve of a breast, the angle of a wrist, sweat and skin and a blooming ache that suddenly took Olivia by surprise as she cried out Tate's name in the night. He growled in response before biting down on the juncture between her neck and shoulder while he shuddered above her.

When they'd both recovered and he lay by her side in the warm bed, stroking her hair as her head rested on his chest, she tried to remember the last time she'd felt so good. She'd had plenty of wonderful days over the past five years—special events and milestones with the girls that had overwhelmed her with joy, quieter days of simple pleasures that had filled her with peace. But her life had never felt quite complete, because at the end of the day, she'd settled into bed alone. No one to curl up beside and share her happiness with. No one to hold her close and make sure she knew she wasn't alone. It was only now, as she tucked her cheek against his shoulder, that she admitted to herself how lonely she had been. Was there a chance that loneliness could be over now?

“This might be the quietest I've ever seen you,” Tate murmured. “Are you okay?”

She smiled even though he couldn't see her face. “I'm better than okay.” She pressed up so she could look him in the eyes. “I'm so happy the girls and I found you. When I knew there was a job in Montana, my first thought was,wouldn't it be something if I saw him walking down the street someday?Then I reminded myself those odds were about a million to one. But I still wanted to move here.” He ran a finger gently over her cheek and she felt her heart skip a beat. “Aside from the fact it's a great place to raise kids, I hoped that getting to know Montana would be a way I could inject a little of their father into the girls. It was the only way I could think of to keep you present in their lives, even if only in a small way.”

He cleared his throat, his gaze fixed on hers. “I'm glad you found me, too. And not just because of the girls.” His hand moved lower to cup her butt. “Just sayin'.” He began to grin.

She chuckled. “You're a bad influence that I'm enjoying way more than I should. But even though I haven't heard a peep out of those two, I really need to get back to my own room.”

“So can we have breakfast in the morning and have that discussion with the girls?” he asked.

“Yes. Why don't we get room service? You can come to our room at eight?”

“I'll be there.” He paused and kissed her softly on the lips. “Are you sure you can't stay?”

“Very sure,” she said reluctantly, relieved when he pulled back and didn't try to argue with her.

“But we're okay, right?” he asked, sounding a little uncertain. “This isn't going to mess anything up or make things awkward? I…I didn't just ruin things, did I?” He studied her, that little dent she'd noticed between his brows growing deeper, so like Melissa's expression when the little girl was concerned about something.

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