Page 5 of Lonesome Man
So when he said, “Come ’ere,” in that sexy voice of his, my nerves burst back to life, and I did what he asked and slid across the bench seat and pressed into his side. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I was finding it hard to breathe normally again.
We drove over a rise and the house came into view. It was breathtaking, a two-story with walls made of thick logs stacked on top of each other, and there was a wide wraparound porch that surrounded the entire house. A large barn stood beside it as well as a few other smaller outbuildings.
I nearly said how beautiful it was, but I stopped myself. We were still in play, so I’d already know what it looked like.
Tucker pulled to a stop. “Wait there.” He got out and rounded the hood again, opening the door for me. “Head inside, baby, I’ll get the bags.”
I nodded, pressed my hand to his chest and looked up at him. He leaned in and kissed me, making a humming sound of contentment when he did. It was so remote out here; we were literally in the middle of nowhere. I knew how lonely a life like this could be, but he was totally alone now that his parents were gone. An awful churning filled my belly, while memories of the past, of my childhood tried to force their way forward. I quickly shoved them down before they could take hold. No wonder he did this. He used to play the loneliness off when we talked, that he liked the peace, but going without physical contact for so long, he had to be craving another human being, just someone to talk to, a simple touch. A hug.
My heart clenched, hurting for him.
I headed inside while he grabbed the bags and followed. A fire crackled in the living room. It was warm and cozy, and I loved it.
“Dinner smells amazing.”
“I did the potatoes the way you like. Come on.” He reached for my hand and led me upstairs and into what was obviously his bedroom.
The bed was intricately carved wood, the rest of the furniture was the same. It smelled fresh in here, with a hint of vanilla, my favorite scent. “You wanna grab a shower? There’s time before the food’s ready.”
“Yeah, that’d be great,” I said, trying not to let the awkwardness sink in.
He strode over to me, his strong hands curling around my upper arms. “Really fucking glad you’re here, Libs,” he said, voice husky.
It was another thing that a husband would say to his wife after time apart, but I knew it was the real woman under the fantasy he was talking to. That it had come from a place of deep loneliness, and he meant it. “Me too,” I whispered.
He’d wanted me as much as I had him, and he had no idea that the real Libby was standing in front of him, that it was the real Libby he’d just kissed.
Chapter Three
Tucker
Ruth was straight out of my deepest fantasies.
Smith men liked their women soft and curvy, and my girl was so hot it had been a fucking challenge leaving her to shower alone. But I was raised right, and that beautiful, sweet-as-candy woman had just traveled hours, taken two flights to get to me, and I was going to feed her before I fucked her again.
Still, my hands actually trembled as I dished up the pot roast and warmed up the gravy. I put down the ladle and shook out my hands. This was a lot, it always was. I hadn’t seen another soul in three months, the last time Cash visited, and I hadn’t been with a woman in over twelve. Now Ruth was finally here, looking like my wildest dreams, playing the part of my Libby, the only girl I’d ever allowed myself to fall for, and I needed to get a fucking handle on it.
I’d had women out here once a year for the past four years and I’d never felt this kind of instant connection before. I’d definitely never fucked one of them within two minutes of meeting them, and I wasn’t sure it was her or because of who I was pretending she was. When Jessica sent Ruth’s photo, I’d been fucking struck. She’d been everything I’d wanted, exactly how I’d pictured Libby, and now she was here and even more perfect in the flesh.
Footsteps echoed on the stairs as she came back down from the bedroom. “Hope you’re hungry?” I said. “I made extra grav?—”
Her warm, soft body pressed against my back, her arms coming around me. “I’ll need extra everything, please,” she said and laughed.
I let out a shuddery breath. This girl knew the fucking assignment. Jesus, she had me off-balance. I was still wearing black, so she was still playing her part, and I wasn’t sure I ever wanted my little wifey to break character. I liked this too fucking much.
She released me and walked to the fridge. “Beer?”
“Yeah, please.”
We sat and ate and drank and I was having trouble looking away from her.
“What do you want to do after dinner?” she asked, her eyes lifting to mine and her cheeks turned pink.
My little wife blushed often. It was a surprise, but I fucking loved that too. “You,” I said.
Her lips curved up, and she nodded as she sipped her beer. “Right answer.”
“Yeah?” I swallowed, the sound loud in the quiet kitchen.
