Keepsake: True North #2

  “You’re dripping,” she chided me.

  I must have been staring, because now her big brown eyes were locked on mine. There were only a few inches between us, and they could have been easily vanquished. But I held my ground, unmoving even as a new rivulet of water dripped down my cheek.

  It was Lark who broke our stare-down. And she did it by leaning forward, pressing her lips to my jaw, absorbing the water droplets with a soft kiss. “Hmm,” she breathed, and her exhalation brought goosebumps to my neck. She raised her head a centimeter and kissed my damp skin again.

  My body did its best impression of a brush pile catching fire. Whoosh. Giving in to the urge I’d been fighting every minute of the day and night, I reached for her beautiful face with both hands.

  My heart was pounding, but I didn’t attack her mouth like I’d done in the barn. This time I took her tenderly. My lips grazed hers. But even that first contact made my head spin. The softness of her skin and her feminine scent overwhelmed me. My mouth closed over hers, her hands finding my chest.

  Yes, my body chanted. More.

  I deepened the kiss, sliding a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her into my arms. Maybe I’d spent the first twenty-three years of my life without touching anyone, but Lark had changed me. I craved the contact. Her mouth softened under mine, and she made an achy little sound that went right to my dick.

  Parting her lips with my own, I got the first heady taste of her. All logic and reason fled the building as I took sip after sip of her mouth. Her grip tightened on my wet shirt as we lost ourselves to the hunger that had simmered between us since…I didn’t know when.

  I didn’t even know my own name. All I knew was the ache she made me feel. The need. My hunger was like a devil on my shoulder, urging my hands to coast down her back, pulling her hips against my eager ones.

  More of this would kill me. Calling upon the last tattered threads of my willpower, I broke our seal, my head thumping back against the doorframe. It wasn’t like me to feel so reckless. Maybe other people could afford to abandon all their self-control, but I never could.

  “This keeps happening,” Lark whispered, her fingertip tracing my lower lip.

  Because I’m weak, I thought, just as footfalls could be heard on the back steps.

  Lark took a healthy step backward just as the door opened, admitting Ruth Shipley. “Hello!” she said, sounding winded. “You look even wetter than I am.”

  “Sure is coming down out there,” Lark said, plucking the raincoat I’d worn off the floor. We’d tossed it there during our hasty make-out session.

  “Visibility was terrible! I doubt I drove above thirty miles an hour.” Ruth took off her own coat. “What’s everyone up to?”

  Finally I found my voice. “Griff is in the cider house. Dylan and May are doing homework.

  She kicked off her boots and sidestepped me. “Oh, eggs! Thank you.”

  It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about. I’d forgotten the darned eggs a half second after Lark smiled at me. “You’re welcome,” I said a beat too late.

  Lark gave me a secretive smile, and then asked Ruth if she wanted any help starting dinner.

  * * *

  That night Jude came over after supper. He and Griff had hatched a plan to stay up late working on the bungalow’s kitchen cabinetry together before the plumbers came tomorrow to install the new sinks.

  I told them I’d help, of course.

  There were four of us working under the night sky. The rain stopped, so we set up the cabinet doors on sawhorses. Jude and I sanded while Griff and Kyle primed by the porch light.

  “Listen, Zach,” Jude said as we worked together. “You helped me find my job, and I’m starting to think I can return the favor.”

  “But I have a job?” For now.

  “Yeah, but this one could be pretty great. My boss has a brother who lives in the Northeast Kingdom.” That was the most remote corner of Vermont, abutting Canada. “They have trouble with tractor maintenance, because there isn’t enough demand in any one town. Mr. Marker wants to set up a traveling repair service. Like a van full of tools and supplies.”

  “But what about parts? There’d be no way to have the right stuff on hand in a van.”

  “Maybe not for larger repairs,” Jude conceded. “But you always say that routine maintenance is key for tractors. I told Marker you’d be good at this—that you were the tractor whisperer.”

  I snorted.

  Jude grinned. “You should call him before someone else does.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “What’s this?” Griff demanded from a few yards away, paintbrush in hand. “You’re poaching my best employee?”

  “And I’m chopped liver?” Kyle teased. “Don’t you see me volunteering my time on a Sunday night? Where is the love?”

  “The love is just inside the back door,” Griff said, jerking his chin in that direction.

  Kyle set down his brush and disappeared for a moment. A hoot of joy could be heard before he reappeared with a six-pack of bottled beer in each hand. “There’s even some non-alcoholic stuff here for you, Jude.”

  “That is nice,” Jude said, setting down his sanding block. “Pass me one? And Griff—you wouldn’t get in Zach’s way of doubling his income, would you?”

  “Course not,” Griff said. “Zach knows I was only teasing. He’s gonna move up in the world pretty soon, anyway. And hey—if you took a mechanic’s job then mom would stop trying to enroll you in the GED program. So you should probably talk to Jude’s boss.”

  I gave a grunt of acknowledgment. I didn’t know which option was worse, though. Struggling with a test or working by myself in the boonies. The Northeast Kingdom was comprised of the three least-populated counties in Vermont. Living alone in a trailer somewhere, driving around to fix strangers’ tractors? Shoot me.

  We took a beer break and then did a little more work. The smack talk swirled around me, but I didn’t hear much of it. I was too tangled up in my own head. The best five minutes of my life kept playing on repeat in my head. Kissing Lark in the kitchen had been glorious, but it was something I probably shouldn’t do again. And now there was Jude’s tractor job clouding my mind, too.

  “You’re quiet tonight, even for you,” Griff said as we walked up the path toward the bunkhouse later.

  “Just tired,” I mumbled.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet. I always take it for granted that you want the extra hours. Maybe sometimes you want to say no, but you don’t.”

  “Nah,” I said quickly. “It’s not like that.”

  “Isn’t it?” he challenged. “Even so, you might want to fix tractors for the same pay at half the hours. Marker goes to Mom’s church. We could put in a good word for you.”

  Something twisted in my stomach. “Let’s not worry about that. Too much going on right now.”

  We’d reached the bunkhouse door, so I didn’t have to continue the conversation. Jude was spending the night with us, so I offered to find him some sheets, thereby changing the topic.

  “I brought my sleeping bag, so you don’t have to.”

  As we passed by, I saw that Lark’s door was shut. But there was a strip of light underneath, and the strains of guitar music playing inside. My heart paused outside that door, wanting to knock. But I didn’t do it.

  In the bunkroom, Jude stood on Kieran’s lower bunk in order to roll out his sleeping bag on the upper one. “Just like old times,” Jude said. “Good thing you have one empty spot. Wouldn’t want to see Griff sleeping on the floor,” he teased.

  “Griff wouldn’t,” Kyle said from our closet. “He’s afraid of mice.”

  “Once a mouse ran over his foot, and he screamed,” Kieran added.

  “I did not scream.”

  “You screamed like a little girl,” Kieran insisted.

  “I was eleven,” Griffin said in his own defense.

  “An eleven-year-old girly man,” Kieran pressed, while the rest of us laughed.
r />   Even after everyone showered and bedded down for the night, the smack talk continued into the darkness. I closed my eyes, and their ribbing became background noise to my thoughts. I’d never minded living in the bunkhouse. And I had no idea what I’d do when the Shipleys asked me to move on.

  I fell asleep to the sound of Griffin’s snoring. But I didn’t stay asleep.

  It felt as if Lark cried out only minutes after I’d closed my eyes, but it was probably hours.

  “Whazzat?” Jude murmured in his sleep.

  I didn’t answer him. I just hustled into Lark’s room and closed the door.

  “Shh…sweetie,” I said. “Shh…” I knelt on her bed. I rubbed a hand on her back, circling gently. It wasn’t long until her breathing evened out.

  God, I loved her. What a scary thought that was, but it was entirely true. I’d never felt about anyone the way I felt about Lark. Like I’d walk through fire for her.

  I pulled the covers back and slipped in beside her. The sensation of her body’s warmth made mine stir immediately. But I slammed my eyes shut and prayed for sleep to take me right away. Blissfully, it did.

  Too blissfully, as it would happen.

  We were in a bed. It was utterly dark wherever we were, but I knew it was her. I’d know the scent of her anywhere, and the sound of her breathing. Lark’s warm hands drifted down my body, teasing me. And wait—I was naked. Her soft hair dragged across my chest, and I felt every strand against my skin.

  Beautiful.

  With moist lips, she dropped little kisses on my stomach. As she wandered lower, I held my breath. Her lips touched the head of my dick. She opened her mouth, and then everything was hot and wet all around me. I let loose a bellowed moan. It was so good that I tensed every muscle in my body. Her mouth was both soft and insistent. Now she was sucking on me, and it was even more glorious than I would have believed. I couldn’t hold still. Twisting my hips, I arched into her hot mouth. “Oh fuck.”

  “Zach?”

  I could hear her voice, but was unable to respond. I was too far under the spell.

  “Are you okay?”

  Startled by the question, I opened my eyes. Lark’s face was right there above mine, her perfect mouth just inches away. Trying to hold onto the dream, I lifted my head to meet her for a kiss.

  Lark made a startled sound.

  Startled?

  Fuck!

  I sat up so fast that she had to weave out of my way. “Sorry,” I choked out. I looked down, and my dick stared accusingly back up at me, straining against my flannel pants. I drew my knees up quickly, then rolled over on my side, facing away from her.

  “Zach?” She put a concerned hand on the back of my neck. But the contact was like gasoline on my fire. Her friendly touch was exactly what I didn’t need right now. “Are you sick?” she asked.

  “No… I’m… It’s…” Get a grip already, I coached myself. Nothing happened.

  It was only a dream. These were the same words I used night after night to comfort Lark. And now the joke was on me. My pulse was pounding just as hard now as it had been a minute ago, when I’d thought she was… “Fuck.”

  “Shh…” Lark said, stroking a lock of hair away from my face. “What did you dream about?”

  I chuffed out a strangled laugh and shook my head.

  Lark made a fist and pushed it against my shoulder with a friendly nudge. I could feel that she was trying to put me at ease, but it wasn’t going to work. “I tell you my secrets. But your dream is top secret?”

  I exhaled on a long, hot breath. “It was R-rated,” I explained at a whisper. “But not for violence.”

  “Oh.” The one word carried the weight of understanding.

  Feeling my face redden, I pressed my overheated cheek into the pillow. I took a slow breath and tried to get myself under control. In my dream, I’d been seconds away from orgasm. I needed a few minutes to calm down, and then I would get up and walk back to my own bed.

  “Zach,” Lark whispered. The bed moved as she lay down again, too. “Is it egotistical of me to ask whether I’ve ever made it into one of your best dreams?”

  In Leviticus, it says, “You shall not lie to one another.” The temptation was strong. But I spoke the truth. “They’re all about you.”

  15

  Lark

  I studied the rise and fall of Zach’s muscular back with each breath. Unable to resist, I put a hand on his neck. He was so solid and warm against my touch. As my thumb stroked over his skin, the moment stretched wide between us.

  The choice was mine. If I reached for him, he could be mine. Or I could do nothing. Say nothing. That would be an outright rejection, and one that I didn’t want to make.

  I already knew what Zach looked like splitting wood, his muscles bunching with each swing of the maul. I knew the sight of him dashing past my door with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. I knew how he kissed—with such thoroughness and desire that it had made my head spin.

  Now I wondered how he’d look hovering above me in bed.

  And who could blame me? Zach was beautiful on his worst day. But a horny Zach was the thing of fantasies. My pulse kicked up a notch, and I was filled with the urge to see every golden inch of his skin and watch his eyes darken with lust.

  My rusty libido cranked to life as I focused my gaze on the place where his neck met his strong shoulder. Without conscious thought, I moved closer and kissed him right there. His skin was velvety under my lips, and the clean scent of him made me sigh.

  His body stilled beneath my touch, and he let out a hot breath.

  Even as I leaned into the warmth of his body, I knew on some level that I shouldn’t do it. Zach wasn’t just a guy I happened to be attracted to. He was special. Zach was a better person than…well, just about anybody. He ought to be handled with care.

  But as I dragged my lips on a path toward his jaw, he moaned. That small sound dispensed with what little self-control I had. My inner Wild Child hadn’t shown up lately. But now she announced her presence, touching the tip of her tongue to Zach’s heated skin. He tasted exactly as he should—of the cool night air, the outdoors, a hint of sweat.

  Zach had entirely stopped breathing, and I wondered one last time if maybe I’d overstepped. “Should I stop?”

  The next two seconds were a whirl of motion, after which I found myself on my back looking up into Zach’s serious face. His body was spread out on top of mine, and the weight of him was delicious.

  Still, he didn’t speak. The silence held between us as he dropped his head, brushing his lips against mine. It was my turn to hold my breath, as I waited to learn what he’d do next. His eyes fell shut then, and he pressed a soft kiss onto my lips. I couldn’t help myself. I opened up in blatant invitation. With a needy groan, Zach accepted the challenge. His tongue glided against mine, tangling, exploring.

  Desire thrummed through me in earnest. With his enthusiastic kisses, Zach stoked the embers of my libido into flames. His hands moved to cup my face, his fingertips threading into my hair. Even though he held much of his weight off my body, it was impossible not to feel the pressure of his erection against my core.

  Oh, the pleasures I could share with this man. The very idea caused me to whimper out loud.

  At the sound, Zach pulled back. Again he studied me with a grave expression. “I’m not freaking you out, am I?” His whisper was coarse.

  “You couldn’t ever,” I answered. And then I put my hands under his T-shirt, finally allowing myself to solve the mystery of how all that golden chest hair would feel against my fingers. It was surprisingly silky. Everything about Zach was finer than on a normal person. And when I pressed my fingers against the flat discs of his nipples, he groaned.

  Our kisses went wild, and I lost myself inside my own senses in a way that I hadn’t done in a long time. For this beautiful moment, there was no fear. There were no nightmares, and no darkness hovering over my heart. There was only the slide of Zach’s tongue against my own,
and the friction of his callused hands on my body.

  He rolled us to the side, and his fingers became more daring. He stroked up the back of my thigh, then ventured beneath my nightgown.

  Oh, hell yes.

  I kissed him with everything I had, pressing my aching breasts against his hard chest. His fingers splayed across my belly, their tips so deliciously close to my core that I couldn’t keep still. I rolled my hips and gasped with encouragement.

  Then I reached down and stroked him—just once—my hand glancing over his flannel-covered erection.

  Zach broke off our kiss to flop his head back on the pillow. He let fly a whispered string of very un-Zach-like curses. “You’re killing me.”

  “Remind me again,” I whispered, “why you’re a virgin?”

  “Never wanted anyone enough,” he panted.

  “And now?” I pressed, punctuating the question by sucking gently on the skin beneath Zach’s ear.

  “In my dreams, we do it every night.”

  Hot damn. I had to clench my legs together as the idea became a craving. Zach’s palm made another sweep across the waistband of my panties, and I moaned. He swallowed the sound with another of his kisses. I loved how responsive he was, and how willing. I sat up a little bit, tugging at the bottom hem of his T-shirt. Pushing the fabric up, I wordlessly urged him to shed it.

  He gripped the fabric in two hands, but hesitated. “Maybe this isn’t what you need right now.”

  “Sorry?” Getting him naked was exactly what I needed right now.

  “This isn’t the reason I climb into your bed at night,” he whispered, his beautiful face more serious that I’d ever seen it.

  “I know that,” I hissed. “Nobody is taking advantage of me right now. And I don’t need you mansplaining what I need right now.”

  Zach grinned at me. I loved that smile, but what I did next made it disappear. I grabbed my nightie and lifted it over my head, then flung it off the bed.

  His gaze darkened to a lustful glitter, and I watched as his eyes swept my bare breasts. This time, when I gave his shirt a tug, he curled his body to let me shed it without a word.