She shrugs, and I swear to all that is fucking holy, it is the sexiest shrug I’ve ever seen. Without thinking, I push the dog away, wrap my arms around her and pick her up. The second her ass meets the table, I’m between her legs with my lips pressed against hers.
Her arms close around my neck as my tongue chases hers. Opening the blanket, I pull her against me on the edge of the table. The aching bulge in my jeans presses against a pair of shorts that barely covers her. Jesus, I’m not this strong. Her hands drift down my shirt until they can pull the hem up to rest on my stomach.
“Harmony,” I warn.
“I know,” she whispers against my lips. “I know,” she says stronger the second time and straightens her back.
I step back, helping her off the table. Finding the edges of the blanket, she pulls it back around her, covering straining nipples begging for my touch. That image does nothing to curb my raging erection.
“I’m going to get dressed,” she adds before turning toward her bedroom.
“Good. Yeah.” My brain can’t think of anything else. I start the monotonous routine of making breakfast hoping it will calm me down.
By the time I have the oatmeal ready, she’s returned. “I hope you’ll eat this. I’ve got stuff to put on it.” She sits at the table and begins to eat. I can think of so many more things that table should be used for than eating. Well, eating oatmeal anyway.
“Are we still checking on your neighbors?” she asks.
“Yeah, they’re older. I don’t like the thought of something happening over there and no one knowing about it.”
“Sounds good.” We both sound like we’re trying to force a conversation that would have come easily earlier. Her side of it would have anyway. Maybe we could use some fresh air. “Are we still taking the horses?”
“I thought we would.” She nods her head and continues eating. I can’t think of a single thing to say so we eat in silence until we’ve finished.
“Ready?” I ask after the dishes are drying in the rack. Digging out a handful of winter gear, she tries on different coveralls until she finds a pair that fits the closest. I add gloves, hat, and face covering to her look.
“I feel like that kid fromA Christmas Story. I really can’t put my arms down.”
“At least you’ll be warm.” I lead her and Reacher out the front door. She steps off the porch and into snow that reaches her knees. I noticed when I let the dog out that we had new snow on the ground. “You okay?”
“Peachy,” she says, pulling a boot out of the drift. Together, we finally make it to the barn. I sit her on a bale of hay to warm up while I saddle the horses. They’re both snorting and stamping in the frigid air. Reacher races around digging in the snow like he might find buried treasure.
“This is Hoss,” I tell her when I’m finished saddling my big roan gelding. “And this is Joe,” I add, pointing to the small bay she’s going to ride. I hook a lead line to his bridle so I can still control him from my horse.
“Bonanza?” she asks.
I shrug a shoulder and help her onto Joe.
“You remember I’ve never ridden before, right?” She has a death grip on the saddle horn.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Holding both the lead line and my reins, I swing onto Hoss. With a whistle at Reacher, we head out of the barn.
“Wow, it’s cold out here.”
“Do you want to change your mind?”
“No,” she answers, straightening her shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”
She is too. It takes us half an hour to ride the mile, but she never complains. Her only concession to the cold is to keep her mouth closed most of the way.
I’ll admit that I miss her banter as we slog through the snow. It’s not possible to fall for someone in a day, is it? Can you feel this connected to someone who you know basically nothing about?
I knew a few things about Harmony Ellis before she walked into my kitchen yesterday. I already knew she was the nice sister. Any time I saw her with Travis in high school, she was laughing. I also know she has a voice that can tame even the most savage beast. At graduation, she was in the top ten percent of the class. She had as many cords around her neck in her gown as Travis, which was substantial.
She can cook, that’s for damn sure. The gumbo last night was orgasmic. I should probably think about something other than orgasms. Anyway, she’s gorgeous, funny, and kind. What else do I need to know about her? How about the sounds she makes when she comes on my cock? Jesus. Good thing it’s freezing.
“Is that it?” she asks, pointing to a plume of smoke coming from a distant chimney.
“That’s it.” We arrive at the house, and I help Harmony off the horse.
