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His hand kept up the steady rhythm. “I don’t like to take medicines. I figure with a junkie mom, genetics aren’t on my side as a father,” he said darkly, the deeper implication clear, explaining the mystery of why he seemed so determined to deny himself a family of his own. “And what if that early addiction is still there lurking, waiting to be triggered again?”
She blinked back the tears and tipped her head to look up at him. “What does your doctor say?”
His handsome features were strained, his jaw flexing. “Not to snort coke.”
She skimmed her fingers over the furrows in his forehead. “How can you make jokes about this?”
“It’s better this way.” He captured her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I want you to understand why I’m not comfortable being a father or passing along my genes to future generations.”
“Why didn’t you try to make me understand before? You have to know I would have listened without judging.” Although she had to wonder. Would she have been able to accept that he didn’t want children? Or would she have pushed for him to resolve his feelings in order to have things the way she wanted them?
“I thought you would run if you knew. Then you ran anyway, which only confirmed my suspicion.” He threaded his fingers through her loose hair, cupping the back of her head. “Now, there’s nothing to lose.”
Her parents’ love had been such a grounding foundation for her all her life, giving her a confidence she carried with her even now that they were gone. She’d always thought about how lucky he was to have Mariah—Johanna hadn’t considered the scars he must carry because of his mother’s addiction. “I am so sorry for what you went through as a baby and for all you went through afterward with your mom.”
He searched her eyes. “And you aren’t upset that I didn’t tell you before?”
Was she? She searched her heart and decided upset wasn’t the right word. Disappointed fit better. That he’d held this back only reinforced her feelings that they hadn’t been ready to commit before. For whatever reason, he hadn’t been able to trust her, and she hadn’t looked any deeper than the surface.
She understood now that he’d never be able to give her the family she craved. His resistance was rooted in something much deeper than she’d ever guessed. But even knowing that she wouldn’t be able to move them to a healthier, happier place together, she couldn’t help wanting to savor this time with him. She was deeply moved that he’d trusted her enough to share this. She just wished he loved her enough to address the problem. For now though, with her emotions ripped raw, she would take whatever tenderness she could find in his arms until she found the strength to move forward with her life again.
“Not angry.” She kissed him once, lightly, before continuing. “Just glad you told me now.”
“You’re being too nice about this.” He tunneled his hands through her hair again and again in a rhythm that both soothed and aroused.
“I’m seeing things from a new perspective, questioning if I really gave you the opening to share the darker corners of your life.” She took in the handsome, hard lines of his face, thinking about all the times she’d fantasized about him as a teenager. She’d idealized him and idolized him for so many years; she hadn’t given him much room to be human. “I created a fantasy crush image of you and expected you to live up to that. It wasn’t fair to you.”
“You truly are too forgiving.”
“I have my limits,” she admitted. “I’m human, too.”
“I should let you go, but all I can think is that someone else would take advantage—” his voice went gravelly, his arms flexing a second before he tucked her underneath him “—and there’s nothing in this world I want more than to keep you safe.”
“You know what I want more than anything? I want to make love to you until you can’t think of any more gut-wrenching discussions for us to have.” She angled up to kiss him once, twice, distracting him so she could roll him to his back. “I want us to try to be normal for a while.”
“You can absolutely feel free to console me with sex.”
As much as he tried to joke, she could see the raw emotion in his eyes and knew he’d pushed so far outside his comfort zone, he would need time before he could go further. So she offered him the only comfort he would allow now—an escape, a reprieve that could be found in each other’s arms.
She sealed her mouth to his again. His arms wrapped around her in a flash, his hands curving around her bottom and bringing her closer. She straddled him. The pressure of his erection against the core of her was a delicious friction. Already, a euphoric haze seeped through her veins, evicting her concerns—at least for this stolen moment together.
Ten
Johanna woke to the sound of voices. Or rather one voice and a couple of different barks.
She pushed her tangled hair off her face and sat up, sheet pooling around her waist in the empty bed. Blinking to clear her mind and vision, she saw Stone’s boots still on the floor, his shirt tossed over a chair. Where was his rumbly voice coming from? Maybe he was in the kitchen?
Then she heard him...from the porch. Her window was open since the night had dipped into the seventies.
“Sit.... That’s right, good girl,” he said, a dog bark answering.
Pearl.
“Girl, this is the last treat. You’ve already had four. You’re gonna get sick. Yeah, Ruby, I have another for you, too. Fair’s fair.”
She smiled affectionately. He was sweeter than he gave himself credit for. Although with his revelations the past few days, she could understand why he was so hesitant to let down his walls and be vulnerable. His mother had betrayed him on so many different levels from the start.
The details about his birth and early years still rocked her. It also affirmed they hadn’t been ready to get married before with such secrets between them, but it heartened her that they were making progress now. He was opening up to her, and she wondered what that could mean for them as the rest of this week played out. While she wasn’t ready to think beyond the next few days, she also knew they’d moved past having a one-night stand for old times’ sake.
Tossing aside the sheets, she left the bed and grabbed a silky robe from a hook on the bathroom door. The sun was only just rising, but usually she would already have her coffee in a travel mug as she headed to the barn. Being idle felt...strange.
She wrapped the knee-length robe around her and padded barefoot through the living area out to the covered porch. Stone sat in a rocker wearing jeans and nothing else. His hair stood up a little in the back with an endearing bed-head look that softened her already weakening emotions. She’d missed mornings like this with him. Ruby was lounging at his feet, and Pearl slept curled up on the porch swing.
Stone glanced back at her and grinned. “Good morning, gorgeous.”
“Good morning to you, too. Any news on your grandmother?” Although she assumed there must not have been any bad updates, given his happy mood.
“Amie sent a text a half hour ago. Gran’s resting comfortably and will be released this morning. Alex and Amie are arguing—as expected—over which one of them will bring her home.”
“I’m relieved to hear Mariah’s well enough to come home. Hopefully Alex and Amie will put their competitiveness on hold for the day.” She leaned a hip against the door frame, watching the low hum of activity at the lodge in the distance. She had the added privacy of a circle of sprawling oak and pine trees since she lived here. A couple hundred yards away, beyond the trees, she could hear a couple of early risers talking over breakfast. Voices and hubbub from the stables echoed from the other side of the ranch house, but everyone was out of sight.
For the most part, she had Stone to herself. “What are you drawing?”
He tipped his head for her to join him. “Come see.”
She walked out onto the porch and stopped behind his chair. Looping her arms around his neck, she peered over his shoulder, surprised to find he wasn’t sketching the landscape after all. He had almost finished a sketch of Pearl on the porch swing. Even only halfway done, the likeness was impressive and heart tugging. He’d captured a sadness in the dog’s eyes that mirrored the sadness she’d seen in Stone’s since his grandmother’s announcement. He patted her hand quietly but kept the pencil in motion.
She stepped around him and settled onto the porch swing beside the terrier. She tapped the swing into motion, staying silent while Stone lost himself in the drawing. She wanted to soak up the moment and ignore the fear that this was merely the calm before the storm.
Finally, he sighed and closed the pad, looking across at her. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“I wake up earlier than this for work.” She reached to touch the edge of the sketch pad on the table beside him. “I forget sometimes what a good artist you are.”
