Sasha Summers - A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion

“Hunter?” Jo’s voice was soft.

“It’s just a storm. Go back to sleep, Jo.” He kept his voice low, watching her.

She rolled over, burrowing into the blanket. But the next clap of thunder had her on her feet. He saw her grab her head, leaning against the edge of the sofa.

“Still hurting?” He’d do just about anything to make her feel better. “Want me to take you home?”

She nodded, but then the sky seemed to open up. Sheets of rain dumped onto the tin roof, followed by a show of flashing lightning and roaring thunder. She looked out the window and shook her head.

He smiled. “Still afraid of storms? And you live in Washington?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” She tried to give him a look, one that showed him how capable and tough she was. But the thunder sent her from the couch to his side. “It doesn’t storm like this there. It just rains...a lot.”

He hesitated only briefly before slipping one hand around her waist. His heart picked up and he waited, but she was too focused on what was happening outside to notice his touch. She was warm—he could feel that through the thin fabric of her shirt. He tugged, pulling her into his lap gently, hungrily. When she sat, her body pressed against him, he couldn’t stop the tremor that racked his body.

“I forgot how violent storms get here,” she whispered.

He couldn’t answer. She was in his arms, in his lap. She felt just the same, warm and soft in all the right places. He stared at her face, rediscovering the shape of her. He used to hold her like this for hours. Sitting, talking, kissing and being happy. How could so much time have passed? She hadn’t changed, and neither had his feelings.

“Is it... Are we safe?” she asked, glancing at him. And then she realized she was in his lap, his arms were around her. Her eyes went round. Surprised. Startled. Pleased? He couldn’t tell.

He swallowed. “Inside we’re safe. We should probably try to wait it out, though, instead of taking you back.”

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. He expected her to tense, to pull away from him. But she seemed just as wrapped up in him as he was in her. Her breath hitched, her gaze falling to his lips. He knew an invitation when he saw one.

He bent his head, moving close, slowly. She watched him, her breathing picking up. Did she know how she affected him? He didn’t want to push her, to lose her. Everything he wanted was right here, in his arms.

And then she pulled away. “We can’t do this, Hunter.” Her voice was husky and not at all convincing.

“Sure we can.”

“No, we can’t.” She pushed halfheartedly against his chest. But her fingers gripped his shirt.

He knew his need for her was there, on display, but he didn’t care. He wanted her, he’d never stopped. To him, she was still his. “Why?” he asked.

Something about that question pushed Jo over the edge. She was out of his lap in no time, staring down at him with blazing eyes and an angry twist to her mouth. “Why?”

He looked up at her, confused. “You want me. At least, I think you do. And I know I want you.”

She froze, her hands fisting at her sides. “You do?”

“Hell, yes.” He stood as he spoke, his hands resting on her shoulders.

She shook her head, but she was staring at his mouth. “No. Hunter.” He saw her indecision, her frustration. “What we want has nothing to do with what’s right .”

He heard “what we want” and pulled her against him. His hands cupped her face, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. He felt her shudder, saw her lips part, before she stiffened. Why was she fighting? He’d missed this, the feel of her in his arms, the wholeness he felt deep in his bones. How could he tell her, make her understand? His throat tightened as he stared at her, willing her to know what was in his heart.

Her chin quivered. “Hunter,” she whispered, her voice hitching. “I can’t do this to Eli. To Amy.”

Hunter’s chest grew cold. “Amy?”

She winced when he said the name. “Yes, A-Amy.” She pushed away from him, wrapping her arms around her waist.

He didn’t know what to say to that. He’d hoped that there might be some way for them to come to terms with what had happened, what he’d done. He’d never expected her to take him back, but he’d hoped she’d forgive him. She was here, but somehow Amy was still between them.

His phone rang, but neither of them moved. It could wait. “Jo—”

It rang again.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” she murmured, her eyes cold.

“I’d rather talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She shook her head, her anger building. “Nothing. I shouldn’t be here. This—” she pointed frantically back and forth between the two of them “—is wrong.”

Her words hurt. “Wrong?” He swallowed. “How can you—”

“How can I? You promised me, remember? I’m not going to let you break my heart again, Hunter. Do us both a favor and leave me the hell alone.” She grabbed the phone. “Hold on,” she said into the phone before tossing it to him.

He caught it, Fisher’s voice reaching him. “Hunter? Hunter?”

“Yes?” he spoke into the phone, keeping his gaze locked with Jo.

“Fence is down in the far pens.” Fisher laughed. “You’re going to have to get Jo back into bed later on.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him. She looked so damn vulnerable, wounded somehow. But then she picked up her purse and headed to the door.

He stepped forward, blocking her path, fear rising. “Jo, hold on—”

Jo shook her head, pushing around him. “I don’t want to hold on, Hunter. I don’t want this. I don’t want you. Not anymore.” She ran out into the rain and climbed into her car.

“Hunter?” Fisher sounded stunned. “You there? You okay? Shit, I’m sorry—”

He cleared his throat, swallowing the lump to say, “On my way.” He watched her car back up, then turn around, disappearing into the driving rain and darkness.

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