He took it.
“That all?” he asked when she said no more and kept her eyes on the farm without moving.
“No,” she answered.
“Give it to me,” he ordered, squeezing her with his arms.
She hesitated then said quietly, “You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“How ‘bout you let me be the judge of that.”
He felt her draw in breath.
Then she whispered, “Something’s coming, Mike.”
His body went solid.
She twisted her neck and her head slid across his chest as she tipped it back to look at him and he did the same but looking down on her.
“I feel it. Cold in my bones. Deep down. I’ve never felt anything like it. But I can’t deny I feel it. Something’s coming. Something bad.”
Jesus, fuck, Mike felt the same goddamned thing.
He didn’t share that.
Instead he said, “We’ll be okay.”
“I’m not a worrier, Mike and I’m not worried. I’m beyond that. Honest to God, I’m scared.”
Jesus, fuck.
“We’ll be okay.”
“How can you know that?” she asked.
“Because I’m gonna make it so.”
She stared at him then he watched in the moonlight as her face got soft.
Then she gave him a precious gift. Better than her mouth wrapped around his dick. Better than the music she sang that night. Better than any of her smiles.
“I believe you.”
Those three words burned the second hole of that day through his heart but that hole immediately filled up with something far better than the muscle that had been there before.
And to communicate his appreciation, Mike dropped his head and took her mouth. She turned in his arms then wound hers around his shoulders. He held the kiss as he bent and lifted her in his arms.
Then he took her to his bed.
Then he took her in his bed.
Then he fell asleep tangled up in Dusty.
Chapter Twenty-One
Bakin’ Cakes
Wednesday Morning…
Mike turned off the shower, opened the door, grabbed a towel and saw Dusty standing at her sink brushing her teeth.
He stepped out and started to rub his body down, his eyes on hers in the mirror watching them watch his hands move the towel over his body.
He felt his lips curve.
“Darlin’, not twenty minutes ago you memorized every inch with your mouth,” he reminded her and her eyes jerked to his smiling ones in the mirror.
Then she grinned a toothpaste grin, turning off then pulling the electric brush out of mouth and saying through foam, “Not every inch.”
“The right ones,” he muttered and saw her shoulders shake and her eyes twinkle as she shoved the brush back into her mouth and switched it back on.
He wrapped the towel around his waist, secured it and went to his sink.
“What’s on for today again?” he asked, opening the mirror and reaching for his shave gel and razor.
She bent, spit, rinsed, wiped with a towel and was rinsing her brush when she answered, “Pottery, morning. Hunter says he’s got something on with you this afternoon. He’s taking the rental. I’m taking Rhonda’s car and Jerra, me and the kids are going to the mall to get No’s birthday presents. Back in time to dress up and go out to dinner. We’re all meeting here.”
“Right,” he murmured, squirting the gel in his hand then rubbing it onto his face.
“Tell me, exactly,” she started, “how on earth you can be hot rubbing shave gel on your face.”
His eyes slid to the side seeing her leaning with a hip to the counter, his lips curved again and he answered, “God likes me.”
And that was the truth. The proof was a sink away.
“Unh-hunh,” she muttered, wandering to him, getting into his space.
He turned when she was way into it and she plastered her body against his. Then she wrapped one arm around him, the other hand slid over his shoulder blade and up into his wet hair.
She pressed down but he didn’t make her work too hard for it. She got up on her toes and pressed her lips to his and he didn’t make her work too hard for that either. He engaged tongue, after a while she whimpered into his mouth and, Christ, his dick twitched and he’d just had her twenty minutes ago.
He broke the kiss, lifted his head a couple of inches and saw his woman with shave cream all over her face.
He held her keeping his gelled hand away from her nightie and with his clean one started swiping gently at her face, murmuring, “No fuckin’ joke, get done fuckin’ you, ready to go again. I feel like I’m seventeen.”
She pressed deeper into him and whispered, “I know. Isn’t it awesome?”
She was not wrong.
He looked deep into her eyes, checking to see if any of the anxiety she had last night was evident and he could see none.
So he grinned at her and whispered his agreement, “Yeah, honey.”
She dipped her head, kissed his chest and her arms slid from around him. He let her go and watched as she tagged a towel, wiped the rest of the shave cream off her face and wandered out of the room.
Then his eyes went back to the mirror and he continued slathering gel on his face.