Page 39 of Their Wanted Bride (Bridgewater Brides 1)

I snatched it away and hande

d it to Caleb before she could blink.

“You little…” Her eyes narrowed, then she stroked Caleb’s arm. “You know,” she purred, “I’ll wager you could use a real woman in your life.”

“I’ve already found one. Sadly, you don’t fit the description.”

“Enough.” Maddy strode between them, her face set. “Get your hands off my husband.”

Caleb pushed Maddy behind him, ignoring her protests. “Justin, will you help these deputies gather Celeste’s belongings? She’s upsetting my wife.”

“Of course, sir,” I replied, keeping our ruse intact. “Mrs. Mathis, which one is her bedroom?”

Maddy showed me, and I wasted no time throwing Celeste’s things into satchels and carpet bags. The deputies kept her from stealing everything else. Despite her vociferous protests, we escorted her out after her things were packed, slamming the door behind her.

Once we were alone, Maddy leaned against the wall and let out a tremendous sigh. “Lord have mercy, that woman makes me tired.”

Silently, I handed her a glass of bourbon. She drained it and held it out for a refill, closing her eyes.

“What do I do now?” she asked, addressing her question to no one in particular.

“We’re gonna sit on the veranda, share some bourbon and a cigar, and you’re going to take your ease,” Caleb replied, gently touching her bruised face.

I wanted to spend some time educating Nathan Bergman on the treatment of a lady, but Maddy needed us more than I needed to beat him to a pulp.

Maddy’s eyes sparkled with humor mixed with wistful sadness. “And talk about Egypt?”

“And talk about Egypt.” I stroked a finger across her jaw, then leaned down for a kiss.

CALEB

* * *

Although Maddy needed to rest and heal from her injuries, she absolutely refused to let us sleep in another room. Truth be told, Justin and I weren’t all that happy about the idea either, so we spent our nights squeezed together in Maddy’s childhood bed. As much as we wanted to take her in our arms and make love to her, she was too banged up and sore.

There were also people roaming through the house, meaning Justin had to be up and out of her bed before dawn so we weren’t caught. We couldn’t complain too much though. Sara, Maddy’s old family cook, was every bit as good in the kitchen as our wife was. Aside from that, Sara was better at making her rest than we were.

Three days after her trial, we watched Maddy knead bread and decided she was well enough for the trip home. Her strong, capable hands on the dough made me hard in an instant. I wanted her touch and I was done waiting.

“Sara, will you help Maddy pack up her things? It’s time we…I took my wife home.”

The older woman blinked, then nodded. “Of course, sir. Mr. Carter can help me.”

Maddy’s smile blossomed like a rose, and she squealed as she raced to me. Hugging me tightly, she said, “I can’t wait.”

She kissed me, her tongue flicking out to tease at my lower lip. I bit back a groan as Justin coughed and shifted in his chair.

“Naughty,” I murmured into her ear.

“Not yet. Just wait until I get you home.”

Later, I escorted her around town to let her say goodbye to folks, then rode home for lunch. As we returned our horses to their stalls, I asked, “Are you sorry you won’t be coming back?”

“No. I’m going to miss my friends, especially Dahlia and Reggie, but we can write letters. I want to be with you and Justin. I want our big bed, and I want to wake up in your arms after a night of loving.”

I hurried her into the tack room, slamming the door shut behind us, then pulled her against me and sank my hands into her silky hair. Lowering my head, I took her mouth in a gentle kiss. When she whimpered and clutched at my shoulders, I traced a finger across a hardening nipple, then unbuttoned her bodice, revealing her tender buds to my wandering hands and eyes. I bent to pull one into my mouth and lifted her skirts. My hand found slick wetness and I pushed a finger inside her tight heat.

When she cried out, I cupped her wet flesh, rubbing the heel of my hand against the center of her pleasure. Setting damp kisses to her elegant throat, I whispered, “You’ll want to be a good girl and be quieter. That is, unless you want your stable hands to find you all wet and needy with your skirts around your hips and my hand between your thighs.”

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