pressed against hers. Hands stroked, sending shivers through her. Hard and taunt, he prodded her thigh while firm lips suckled her breasts, first one then the other. Eyes closed, she drifted on a sea of sensual delight until the tension built to a point where she was certain she would die from wanting. When he finally entered her, she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders.
A completeness she felt only with Cole settled in as they rode the waves of pleasure to the ultimate crest to float in languid contentment. Her breathing slowed, and perspiration dried in the breeze blowing through the open window. He cuddled her to his side and kissed her brow.
This was what she’d missed the most—the closeness, a blending of spirits. Knowing there was no one in the world she would rather be with, that the man beside her held a piece of her soul.
A piece he would take with him when he left.
Her eyes flickered open, and she glanced up at Cole. Dark lashes fanned his cheeks as he breathed in a steady rhythm. Staying here in his arms was all she wanted, all she needed…
A faint cry drifted from the room down the hall. Scooting out from under his elbow, she reached for the robe hanging on the bedpost and slipped it on.
“Don’t go.” His words were a sleepy mumble.
“Jackson’s awake.”
“Well, hell.” He rubbed a hand across his eyes then blinked up at her. “I guess I should go get him.”
Her gaze strayed from his face, across his chest, then downward, and her cheeks heated. “Um, I’ll check on him. Maybe you should get dressed.”
A smile teased his lips. “I was thinking about going for a second round.”
“I can tell. Not happening, bud, so put your pants on.”
“And you wonder why I don’t want kids.”
She froze with a hand on the belt of her robe before tightening it with a hard jerk. “I haven’t forgotten. And in case you were wondering, I’m still on the pill.”
“Miranda—”
She swept out of the room and paused in the hall to listen while he scrambled into his clothes. Pressing her hands to her thighs, she bent slightly and waited until her quaking limbs stilled.
She had no right to be angry about his comment. She had known the score and slept with him anyway. It was her own fault if she’d hoped…
A second cry from the spare room spurred her forward. Jackson lay on his stomach, rump in the air as he slid over the side of the bed. Catching him before he hit the floor, she wrinkled her nose.
“You don’t smell very good. I guess my situation with your uncle isn’t the only thing that stinks right now.”
“Want me to change him?”
She glanced over her shoulder at Cole leaning in the doorway. When he stepped forward and reached for the baby, she turned away. “I’ll do it. Did you bring the diaper bag inside?”
“It’s still in the yard. Miranda—”
“Don’t.” She rested her cheek on Jackson’s head and forced an even tone. “We made love, and I don’t regret it, but nothing’s changed.”
His regard was long and hard and steady. “No, nothing has, certainly not how I feel about you. I love you. I never stopped.”
“Maybe that’s why it hurts so much.”
“Miranda—”
She shook her head. “Go get the bag. Then I want you and Jackson to go home.”
The lie nearly choked her, but it was the only choice she had.
Chapter Nine
The chainsaw’s blade cut into the cedar with a whine and a growl, carving tiny slashes—fur on the bear’s stomach. Ducking to avoid the sharp points of the claws on a raised paw, Cole cast a quick glance toward Jackson. The boy was stretched out to the end of his tether on the far side of the cottonwood tree, digging with a plastic shovel more suited to the beach. Though Cole couldn’t imagine why, playing in the dirt held endless fascination for his nephew. A safe distance from both of them, Tucker watched the proceedings with a wary tilt of his head.
Cole went back to work, moving around to the bear’s solid
A completeness she felt only with Cole settled in as they rode the waves of pleasure to the ultimate crest to float in languid contentment. Her breathing slowed, and perspiration dried in the breeze blowing through the open window. He cuddled her to his side and kissed her brow.
This was what she’d missed the most—the closeness, a blending of spirits. Knowing there was no one in the world she would rather be with, that the man beside her held a piece of her soul.
A piece he would take with him when he left.
Her eyes flickered open, and she glanced up at Cole. Dark lashes fanned his cheeks as he breathed in a steady rhythm. Staying here in his arms was all she wanted, all she needed…
A faint cry drifted from the room down the hall. Scooting out from under his elbow, she reached for the robe hanging on the bedpost and slipped it on.
“Don’t go.” His words were a sleepy mumble.
“Jackson’s awake.”
“Well, hell.” He rubbed a hand across his eyes then blinked up at her. “I guess I should go get him.”
Her gaze strayed from his face, across his chest, then downward, and her cheeks heated. “Um, I’ll check on him. Maybe you should get dressed.”
A smile teased his lips. “I was thinking about going for a second round.”
“I can tell. Not happening, bud, so put your pants on.”
“And you wonder why I don’t want kids.”
She froze with a hand on the belt of her robe before tightening it with a hard jerk. “I haven’t forgotten. And in case you were wondering, I’m still on the pill.”
“Miranda—”
She swept out of the room and paused in the hall to listen while he scrambled into his clothes. Pressing her hands to her thighs, she bent slightly and waited until her quaking limbs stilled.
She had no right to be angry about his comment. She had known the score and slept with him anyway. It was her own fault if she’d hoped…
A second cry from the spare room spurred her forward. Jackson lay on his stomach, rump in the air as he slid over the side of the bed. Catching him before he hit the floor, she wrinkled her nose.
“You don’t smell very good. I guess my situation with your uncle isn’t the only thing that stinks right now.”
“Want me to change him?”
She glanced over her shoulder at Cole leaning in the doorway. When he stepped forward and reached for the baby, she turned away. “I’ll do it. Did you bring the diaper bag inside?”
“It’s still in the yard. Miranda—”
“Don’t.” She rested her cheek on Jackson’s head and forced an even tone. “We made love, and I don’t regret it, but nothing’s changed.”
His regard was long and hard and steady. “No, nothing has, certainly not how I feel about you. I love you. I never stopped.”
“Maybe that’s why it hurts so much.”
“Miranda—”
She shook her head. “Go get the bag. Then I want you and Jackson to go home.”
The lie nearly choked her, but it was the only choice she had.
Chapter Nine
The chainsaw’s blade cut into the cedar with a whine and a growl, carving tiny slashes—fur on the bear’s stomach. Ducking to avoid the sharp points of the claws on a raised paw, Cole cast a quick glance toward Jackson. The boy was stretched out to the end of his tether on the far side of the cottonwood tree, digging with a plastic shovel more suited to the beach. Though Cole couldn’t imagine why, playing in the dirt held endless fascination for his nephew. A safe distance from both of them, Tucker watched the proceedings with a wary tilt of his head.
Cole went back to work, moving around to the bear’s solid
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