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It was an organizational nightmare, and Emerson was loving every minute of it.
Macey’s parents and grandparents had welcomed her into the family with hugs and bright smiles. Brothers and sisters, cousins and aunts and uncles had all taken their turn at making her blush and hugging her fiercely.
There were so many people they could have made their own town, and their personalities, temperaments, and smiles all made her feel welcome, if a little overwhelmed.
Macey was chafing at the restrictions, though. His grandparents had placed her in a small bedroom between their room and his parents’, and given Macey strict instructions to steer clear of it after she went to bed.
The pressure was wearing on him, she thought in amusement on the third day. He’d already been in two mass brawls with too many of his cousins, and sported his bruises with pride. The lot of them were rough, ready to fight, and always good-natured after trying to break each other’s faces with powerful fists.
She’d tended his split lip, bruised ribs, and the wound that he had broken loose on his side. She watched as one of his cousins, a nurse, repaired the stitches that closed the wound while he glared in irritation over the inconvenience.
He was unlike any man she had ever known, even other SEALs. She knew why he had excelled in the SEALs now. A mission would be child’s play compared to butting heads with the other males in his family.
And she belonged to him. She might even belong with this strange, crazy family because rather than feeling like she was drowning amid them, their easy acceptance and laughing friendliness drew her in instead.
“We gotta get out of here.”
Emerson smiled as Macey’s arms surrounded her from behind and his lips moved to her neck in hungry kisses.
“Stop, Macey could catch us!” She laughed as he growled.
“Macey has already caught you.” He turned her in his arms, staring down at her, his dark eyes filled with laughter and arousal. Heavy arousal. He was a man skirting the edge of his control.
“Do you know what these shorts are doing to me?” His hands skimmed over the snug, low-rise shorts, smoothing over her butt and upper thighs. “They’re making me crazy.”
But his eyes were on another portion of her anatomy. They were gazing in rapt attention at the smooth mounds of her upper breasts as they peeked from the top of her light blue cotton shirt.
Her nipples hardened instantly, pressing against the thin material of her bra and showing through the shirt. He groaned low in his chest. “We’re getting out of here.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the shadow of the house toward the four-wheelers parked at the edge of the yard. Grandmother March did not allow fo
ur-wheelers in her yard.
“Where are we going?” She laughed as he gripped her waist and set her on the back passenger rack attached to the four-wheeler before swinging himself onto the front.
“Away from the mob.” The smile he flashed back at her was filled with happiness, male appreciation, and more than a little lust. “A hidden place.”
He started the four-wheeler and with a shift of power they were bouncing through the field that surrounded the house amid the hoots and catcalls of his male cousins and knowing smiles from the female ones.
She should have been embarrassed. There were possibly three hundred people who were going to know in a matter of minutes that Macey had made off with her for some fun sex in the sun. Somewhere. But she wasn’t embarrassed, she was invigorated, energized. She could feel the emotions she had given free rein to grow inside her, filling her, pushing away the loneliness and lighting those dark places with happiness and a sense of freedom.
It was hard not to enjoy the freedom Macey gave her. The freedom to touch him, to revel in his arms surrounding her and the love growing between them.
Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Pierce Landry had tried to kill both of them. Two weeks since Macey had bulldozed his way past her shields to steal her caution and replace it with hope.
Her arms tightened around his waist as they entered the treeline and began moving deeper into the thick forest that covered the March property. She had forgotten how many hundreds of acres the senior Marches owned, but it was vast. Once a thriving cattle farm, it was now rich farmland warming beneath the sun and cool forests shadowed with secrets and a mysterious sensuality. She could imagine living here, hearing the birds sing every morning, watching the deer graze on rich, lush grass as rabbits scurried to and fro.
Maybe she wasn’t the city girl she thought she was.
“Here we go,” Macey called out as he parked the four-wheeler under a strand of thick trees.
“And what is this?” She kept her arms wrapped around his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder as she breathed in the scent of him and felt her hunger rising.
“Look up.”
She looked up and her eyes widened in surprised pleasure.
“It’s a tree house.” Her smile widened at the size of it. It was built between two huge trees, the lumber weathered with age, but not with rot. It looked sturdy, natural. A part of the trees that surrounded it and comfortable with its surroundings.
“Come on, I want to show you.”
