Susan Crosby - An Early Christmas Gift

As he neared the grove, he spotted her fire-engine-red car headfirst in a ditch. Panic struck, then he saw her pop up and start kicking a tire again and again. “I work hard,” she shouted. “Harder than any man.”

Her feet went out from under her. She landed with a thud, yelling “Ouch!” then adding a few expletives for good measure.

He made his way toward the ditch. If she’d seen him, she hadn’t given any indication of it. “You okay?”

Her eyes went wide. Then she curled her arms over her face and laughed, the tone more manic than humorous. “Great. This is just great. The worst moment of my life, and you’re the one who witnesses it. My luck runneth over.”

He crouched next to her, eyeing her for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride. And my car.” She waved a hand toward the offending vehicle.

Apparently she was blaming the car, not the operator, for the accident. “Why were you driving like a bat outta hell?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Her shoulders slumped.

He’d rather see her mad than defeated, so he strode away. He heard her scramble to her feet.

“Wait. Please, Win. What about my car?” She hurried after him.

“I’m sure any of your big brothers or your father will come to your rescue.” He turned and walked backward, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah. No cell service out here. Well, good luck with that, princess.”

She plunked her fists on her hips. Good. He’d made her mad. She was back to being Jenny.

“You must own a satellite phone,” she said.

“Must I?” He hadn’t imagined wanting her still, not after all this time. The shock of it burst inside him, sending need and pain through every cell, every nerve. He had to fight the desire that had never died.

“Did you follow me?” she asked, narrowing her gaze at him, brushing the rain from her face.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

He hesitated. They were already taking one secret to their graves. He couldn’t hold tight to his bigger secret, one that affected her, too. Still, he didn’t know if he could tell her now. They were both too charged up, even if for different reasons....

Coward.

Damn straight.

“You cut your hair,” he said.

She touched it but said nothing as they faced each other like duelists. Then the rain stopped being just a sprinkle and turned into a torrent. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him to his truck. The same truck in which they’d slept together for the first time four years ago. How the hell was he supposed to chase that image away?

“Do you have a towel or something?” Jenny asked, shoving her dripping hair from her face and plucking at her white blouse.

A blue bandanna landed in her lap.

“That’s all I have. Sorry.”

Jenny used it on her face. It smelled like him. Even after all these years, she remembered how he smelled. Tasted. Felt. His brown eyes and hair might be considered ordinary, but there was nothing ordinary about him. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and all man.

And the attraction was still there, sizzling, as if it had happened yesterday. It was why she’d avoided him every time she’d come home on school breaks.

Then she remembered he said he had something to tell her. Her heart pounded. She looked at his left hand. No ring. But maybe that was about to change.

She touched his bare ring finger, then jerked her hand back. Idiot. She had no claims on him. Why did she think she had the right—

“I haven’t gotten married,” he said. “Guess you ruined me for anyone else.”

She couldn’t tell whether that was the truth or he was trying to lighten the moment with sarcasm. “Are you living with someone?”

His brows went up, but he answered, “Six ranch hands in a bunkhouse.”

“Are you sleeping with anyone?” Mortified, she shoved her face in her hands. “Forget that. Please. I don’t know why I asked.”

He seemed amused by her embarrassment. “Well, there’s a mouse who seems particularly fond of me.” He took the bandanna she tossed back at him and dried his face. “Why are you interested in my love life, Jen?”

“You said you wanted to talk to me. I figured...” She let the words trail. Really, what else could it be, except that he was seeing someone? She made a sound of helplessness. “I could really use a drink about now.”

He leaned behind the driver’s seat and grabbed a sack. “Your wish is my command,” he said, presenting her with the six-pack of beer he’d just bought, bowing slightly, the steering wheel keeping the gesture small.

It made her smile. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

He put away the bag. “Well, thanks for the walk down memory lane, anyway,” he said, glancing at her wet shirt.

Just having him look at her made her nipples go hard. She put an arm across her breasts, covering herself, but hiding wouldn’t do any good, and she knew it. He would remember what she looked like, the same as she remembered him. Nothing changed the fact that she’d given her virginity to him in a glorious moment, and in this very truck. He’d been patient and tender. They’d spent the summer after he’d graduated from college and she from high school meeting when they could in a private niche among the nearby grove of trees. One summer of stolen moments, of emotions taut and explosive—the thrill of a forbidden union, the shock of loving beyond understanding, at least on her part.

Now here they were, four years later, sitting in his truck, the rain creating a magic curtain around them, making it seem as if they were in a world of their own.

Memories assaulted her right and left. Her hands shook. She crossed her arms.

“Cold?” he asked.

She shook her head. “There’s just so much going on in my head, snapshots like they sometimes show on TV, images flashing so quickly you can hardly keep up with them.”

“Good or bad?”

“Mostly good. Some painful.” She touched her fingers to her lips as if he’d just kissed her.

“I know....” He cupped her face with his hand. He didn’t ask permission—maybe he could already see she was willing. He pulled her closer. She expected a gentle kiss, one of remembrance, maybe even a kind of friendship they might have after all this time.

But he groaned as he kissed her, not wasting time with finesse but devouring her, arousing her, reawakening and rekindling what had been. His lips were familiar...yet not. His large, rough, trembling hands roamed over her, unbuttoning her blouse and pants. He maneuvered, shifted and angled their bodies until they were both undressed and in the passenger seat, Jenny on top. She lowered herself onto him.

There was homecoming and welcome, and newness, too. She remembered everything about him—and nothing.

Finally she was draped over him, both of them struggling to breathe, and the rain stopped as quickly as it started. The windows were steamed up from their breath and body heat, but the shield of rain was gone.

She sat up and studied his face. What are you thinking? she wanted to ask, knowing she didn’t dare, not unless she wanted to know the answer. She didn’t. He’d made it clear in his years of silence that he wanted nothing from her anymore. Even before, he’d only wanted sex. Their families were rivals. Their union never was meant to be.

But then he dragged his fingers down her bare body. “Do you ever think—”

“Yes.” She kissed him to stop the rest of the question, then they went about getting presentable again. Her hands shook. He brushed them away and buttoned her blouse.

Then he passed her his phone. “I don’t have any chains in the truck or I’d try to pull you out of the ditch.”

She called her father. He would assess the situation before they decided whether they needed a tow truck.