Falling Hard (Colorado High Country #3)

Jesse stretched out in the big bed and drew Ellie into his arms, his body replete, his mind empty. They’d had sex again, this time in her bedroom, taking it slow, lingering over little details, the smallest pleasures.

She snuggled against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her fingers trailing through his chest hair. “Your heart is still pounding.”

“So is yours.”

There was sex a man forgot the moment it was over. There was sex he remembered. There was sex that blew his mind. Tonight had definitely been in the latter category, because … damn.

Her scent still filled his head, the taste of her lingering on his tongue, his mind and body shaken by the force of his response to her.

He kissed the top of her head. “I can’t stay.”

“I know.”

Still, he couldn’t get himself to leave her. He told himself that no one would want to climb out of a warm bed and hike uphill through the snow. But the truth was that he didn’t want to leave her.

As they lay there together in the light of her bedside lamp, he began to notice things he hadn’t when they were tearing each other’s clothes off. The plush armchair in the corner. The photo of Ellie and Dan on their wedding day that hung on one wall. The pictures of the twins there on her nightstand. The portrait of Dan in his Ranger uniform that sat on her dresser.

She must have noticed the direction of his gaze. “Do the photos bother you?”

They did, though he couldn’t say why. Seeing Dan’s face again …

“He was your husband. He’s Daisy and Daniel’s father.” That wasn’t exactly an answer, but Jesse couldn’t admit the truth—that seeing Dan’s face left him feeling … what? Uneasy? Jealous?

You must be a special kind of asshole to be jealous of a dead man.

“Do you want to talk about this—about what happened tonight?”

He wanted to tell her there was nothing to talk about, that they were just neighbors who’d hooked up for sex. But when he opened his mouth, that’s not what came out. “I’m not the man you think I am, Ellie.”

“What kind of man do I think you are?”

“I’m not good with relationships or kids.”

“You do a great job of faking it. I’ll even give you extra points for the tiara.” She raised her head and looked up at him. “Is this the part where you say, ‘thanks for the sex,’ and leave?”

That was more or less the gist.

“I just never imagined myself getting serious with anyone—or being a father, raising kids.”

She rested her head on his shoulder again. “You get along well with the twins.”

“I’m not saying that I don’t like kids.” Hell, he’d just fucked her senseless. She might as well know. “I grew up in a pretty screwed-up family. My dad wasn’t really my dad. He married my mother when she was pregnant with me. He beat the shit out of me. I never found out who my real father was.”

She turned onto her belly, her gaze soft with compassion. “God, Jesse, I’m so sorry. That must have been terrifying.”

Yeah, but that wasn’t the worst part. “My mother tried to protect me, but sometimes he beat her, too.”

“Watching that must have made you feel so helpless.”

“Yeah.” How could he explain this? “I’ve always been afraid…”

“That you would be like him.”

“Yeah.”

She shifted in his arms, bringing her face even with his. “I’m a pretty good judge of people. Most nurses are. I don’t think you have it in you to hurt women or children.”

“I’m not a hero, Ellie.”

She brushed her lips over his. “You might feel that way, but you’re going to have a hard time convincing me of that. You’re a combat veteran who saves lives for a living, shovels my sidewalk, watches my kids, and makes me scream.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “That last part is true.”

It’s a wonder she hadn’t awoken the twins.

“It’s all true.” She settled into his arms again. “I’m okay with taking this one day at a time. Neither of us expected this to happen. Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Be honest with me.”

That’s what he’d been trying to do.



*

Jesse trudged uphill through the snow toward his cabin, fat flakes beginning to fall, a cold wind blowing from the northwest. Somehow, he’d fallen asleep, the alarm on his smartphone the only reason he wasn’t still lying in bed beside Ellie. It had been hard to pull himself away from her—her warm body, all that feminine softness. For just a few minutes, he’d thought about calling in.

Hey, Matt, I was up most of the night fucking. Can I have the day off?

Yeah, no. That wouldn’t go well.

Strangely, he wasn’t tired. He felt energized, awake, alive. He’d told Ellie about his family. She hadn’t shown him pity. She hadn’t pulled away from him. She’d understood. She’d understood all of it.

Pamela Clare's books