Dane looked utterly crushed at the sight. “Damn, Miranda. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
He began to get up, and she rushed forward, flinging her arms around his neck. “You’re such an idiot,” she sobbed.
“I know,” he said, patting her hair.
“I’m an idiot, too.”
“I know,” he said, and she could hear the chuckle in his voice. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” she said, and the town square erupted in cheers.
NINETEEN
I
n the spirit of things, the cops let Dane off with a warning, a towel was quickly located, and Beth Ann fussed over Miranda and Dane as Colt glowered at her. Miranda’s mother hugged them both, whispered into Miranda’s ear that she and Dane needed some alone time, and took the opportunity to usher onlookers into her shop.
“My car’s nearby,” Miranda told Dane breathlessly, clutching his hand in hers. “Want to go somewhere private?”
He gave her a smoldering look. “Absolutely. But my car’s nearby, too, and my clothes are in it. I can drive.”
“Your car, then. We can’t go to my place, though. My house is being rented out,” she said with a grimace.
“We’ll go to my place.”
She looked at him in surprise. “At the ranch?” He’d never invited her back before. “Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent,” he said and leaned in and gave her a hard, quick kiss. “I’m quitting anyhow. Grant is going to have a fit when he finds out I just abandoned a class in the woods to come here. If I can’t be with you, I’m going to find something else to do. Maybe I’ll teach hockey.”
She stared at him in surprise. “You hate hockey now.”
“It reminds me of a part of my life when I was too stupid and full of myself to think about anyone else. But it’s something I need to face at some point.”
They turned down the highway and sat in silence. Miranda twisted the ring on her finger. It felt so alien, but in a good way. She glanced over at Dane and wondered if he was regretting his impulsive proposal. He’d grown so silent. She chewed on her lip, thinking.
He glanced over at her and pulled in down a gravel path into the woods. “You still have boxes?”
Her brows furrowed. “I guess so. Why?”
“We’ll need them if I’m moving to Houston to be with you.”
Her jaw dropped as he got out of the car and then jogged around it to open her door. As she got out of the car, she stared up at him. “You want to move to be with me?”
He gave her an odd look. “Miranda, I just told you that I love you and I want to marry you. One of us is going to have to move, and I wouldn’t ask you to give up your career.”
A knot formed in her throat. “You wouldn’t?”
“Of course not.”
She gave him a weak smile. “What if I kind of hate my career?”
“What do you mean?” He grabbed her and swung her into his arms, and she clung to his neck. “Don’t you like your job?”
She gave a wry laugh. “I think I like the concept of it more than the actual job. I bet you think that’s stupid, right?”
His mouth tugged up on one side. “Actually, that sounds a lot like me back when I was in the NHL.”
They approached his small cabin and she saw a note stuck to the door, pinned there by a hunting knife. She leaned forward in his arms and grabbed the note, tearing it down. “‘Dane,’” she read, “‘if you think you can quit on us, you’re a bigger jackass than we thought. See you tomorrow.’ It’s signed by Grant.”
He grunted, and then a slow smile spread over his face. “Guess I still have a job.”
She was happy for him. He loved what he did, and he was good at it. Miranda stared at the paper, then back up at him, and smiled. “Mrs. Murellen asked me if I wanted my job back at the library.”
His eyes burned into hers. “Miranda, I don’t want you to give up anything—”
“It’s what I want,” she said, then brushed her fingers across his stubbled cheek. “Are we going to go inside or not? I’m afraid if we stand out here for much longer, we’re going to be attacked by a rabid emu.”
Heat flared in his eyes and he hastily opened the door, kicking it wide and staggering in. As soon as they were inside, he set her on her feet and whirled to shut the door.
She glanced around—a plain sofa sat in the corner of the room and there was a queen-sized bed, but no TV or electronics. A stack of books lay next to the wood-burning stove. “Wow. You live pretty simply.”
He shrugged and put his hands to the sides of her face, cupping her cheeks as he tilted her face toward his. His mouth licked at hers and she felt the shiver of delight all the way down to her toes. “God, Miranda, the last month has been hell,” his voice was ragged with need, and he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers. “I thought I’d lost you again just when I’d found you.”
“I’m so sorry, Dane,” she whispered. “You must think I’m crazy.”
“I don’t,” he said vehemently. “I think you were hurt and you thought I caused it. I’m surprised you ever wanted to touch me again.” He leaned down and kissed her nose, then her cheeks, kiss after kiss, so delicate and heartfelt that her own heart ached in her chest. “Was it for the revenge?”
“At first,” she admitted, and hated when he flinched. “But then, after we slept together, it was for me and I just kept telling myself that it was for revenge.”
He kissed her mouth again, slowly, sweetly. “I’m glad.”
She was, too. So, so glad. Impulsively, her hand slid to the front of his pants and caressed his cock. He was hard and straining, the length of him making her pussy slick with anticipation. “Are you going to fuck me or are we going to stand here and talk all day?”
“You want to be fucked?” he said in a low, dangerous voice, his hand sliding to her skirt and pushing it up until his hand rested on the damp V of her pussy.
She whimpered and clutched his shirt. “We need to make it over to that bed, and fast.”
He hauled her up against him and her legs went around his waist, her sex cradled against his cock. She moaned again as he carried her to the bed, his mouth slanting over hers in hard kiss after kiss.
“How important are those panties to you?” he growled against her mouth.
“Totally unimportant,” she breathed and slicked her tongue into his mouth, darting and flicking.
“Good.” He dropped her on the bed, then reached under her skirt again, pushing it up around her waist. He tugged her panties off and tossed them aside. One finger slid across her pussy, then delved deep into the well of her sex, and she gasped at the surge of pleasure. “I want to take you right now. Fast and hard until you’re screaming my name.”
“So do it,” she breathed with excitement, and her pussy clenched against his finger. “What’s stopping you?”
“Condoms,” he said. “They’re out in the jeep—”
“Fuck the condoms,” she said and locked one leg around his back, trying to pull him forward. “I’m on the pill. Get those pants off and get inside me.”
His groan was swallowed by a hard kiss, this time from her, and both sets of hands fumbled at his belt. Miranda ran her fingers over the length of him under the pants, so excited she could hardly stand it. She was so wet and needed him so badly.
His belt flew to the ground, then his pants, and he slid out of his boxers an instant later, and then his hot, warm length was probing at the aching core of her.
“You sure, Miranda?”
“God yes,” she breathed. “Please. I need you.”
He surged deep, and her moan caught in the back of her throat as a broken little gasp at the burn of him. It had been a month since they’d had sex, and she stretched and tensed around him, the sensation of being filled so tightly making her toes curl and her pussy throb.
“I can feel you all around me,” he gritted out. “So fucking hot.” His hands locked around her hips and he p
ulled out, then thrust deep again, causing her toes to curl once more. She dug her heels into his buttocks, urging him forward.
“Again,” she breathed. “Please.”
He surged deep again, and then again, the next thrust causing her to moan his name.
He groaned. “Not going to last.”
“Then touch me,” she said, her breath coming out in short, excited pants.
He began to thrust again, his hips rocking against hers. His hand moved between them and slid into the wet heat of her folds, seeking her clit. When he found it, her entire body tensed and she shrieked her pleasure. He began to stroke it in time with his thrusts, the rhythm hard and fast, the touches on her clit feather light.
She came mere seconds later, a scream building in her throat, her fingernails digging into his skin. “Dane!”
He growled low in his throat as she clenched around his hard cock, and then suddenly he was leaning on her hard, his thrusts coming so rapid and rough that she thought they’d fall off the edge of the bed where she perched. But he stared down at her with wild green eyes, thrusting deep. Their eyes connected and when he pumped into her, it was even more intense because they were connected.
“I love you,” she whispered on his next thrust.
He came with a yell, and she felt him deep inside her, coming hard. He tensed and rocked against her a few moments more, still staring into her eyes with his beautiful green ones, and then he collapsed on top of her.
She hugged him close, and caught the glint of her ring in a beam of sunlight. A ring. She was engaged to Dane Croft. Holy shit. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“At least twice a day for the next thirty years,” he said in a husky voice, and she felt him kiss her collarbone.
She laughed. “No, dummy. The ring. Marriage.”
He rolled over on the bed and dragged her over him until they’d switched places and she lay sprawled atop of him. Then he went very still, his eyes serious. “Don’t you want to marry me?”
“Of course,” she said with a smile. “But don’t you think we’re moving too fast?”
“I like fast women,” he said, reaching down and playing with a lock of her hair. “I seem to recall someone who seduced me in the woods the very first night of class.”
“Are you complaining?” she said with a grin.
He pulled her down for another kiss. “Never.”
Jessica Clare, The Girl's Guide to (Man) Hunting
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