But she didn’t answer him. In fact, it was almost like she hadn’t heard a word Woodman said. Ever since Cain had left Apple Valley that night three years ago, she’d all but refused to say his name. Mostly she just didn’t bring him up at all, but when she did, it was like she hit a wall before she could say his name or remember him fondly.
He didn’t know what had happened between them. He’d never asked, and Ginger had never offered the information. Whatever it was, however, it had made Cain leave and thrust Ginger into Woodman’s arms. He wasn’t going to go poking around in it. Whatever it was, it could be her secret. After all, she’d chosen him, not Cain. He didn’t much care why, only that it was so.
But the unfortunate reality was that Cain would be back in Apple Valley this time tomorrow night, and Woodman needed to tell her before he showed up out of the blue. He sighed because he dreaded it. Hated bringing up anything that made her upset or mad, and since she refused to even talk about Cain, Woodman could only imagine that his cousin’s visit would send his already off-kilter bride over the edge.
“I’m thinkin’ chipped beef on toast. How ’bout you?” she asked, her face serene and composed once again, but the playful sparkle she’d had when discussing Mr. Schultz was gone.
“Yeah. Sounds good.” He placed his menu on the table, and after she’d done the same, he took her hands in his. “I gotta talk to you ’bout somethin’.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “Did somethin’ happen with Doc Collins today?”
Huh. That wasn’t where he was headed, but yes, he needed to discuss that with her too.
He nodded. “Yep. Got permission to start firefightin’ again.”
She gasped, her whole face transformed by surprise and happiness. “Woodman! That’s huge news!”
He nodded, the lie pricking at him, even as he returned her smile. It was worth it. It was worth it for this reaction.
“Yeah? Yeah. I know!”
“Honey, I’m so happy for you!” she exclaimed, picking up his hands and kissing them with tenderness and excitement.
It was such an unexpected thing for her to do—to make a physical move like that—it made his heart clench and heat uncoil in his stomach.
“I just knew you’d be okay! Oh, I could sing a song! At least we need Champagne. You think Miz Rialto might have some?”
Woodman stared at her from across the table—the way her brown eyes sparkled and shone—and hope burst in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, she’d start seeing him as a whole man, as her mate, not just her friend. The thought made his breath catch with longing, with optimism and faith.
And frankly he refused to ruin such a moment by telling her about Cain’s visit.
She was grinning at him like a fool. “I’m going to go ask Sallie if she’s got any bubbly!” She leaned across the table and gave him a quick peck on the lips, then slid out of the booth and skipped over to the counter.
He’d figure out a way to tell her about Cain tomorrow.
Chapter 18
Cain
With his BMW R 1200 RT—customized with a Saab 900 engine he’d acquired in Sweden and installed with a moto-nut mechanic in Iceland—between his thighs, Cain Wolfram roared through Huntington, West Virginia, headed west. The red, orange, and gold trees on either side of Highway 64 were pretty fucking beautiful, and he had to admit that, despite every amazing place he’d seen in his six years of travel, nothing quite compared to the good ol’ United States in October.
Flicking a glance at the dash clock, he wasn’t surprised to see that it was almost two. He’d been riding since six o’clock in the morning, with only a couple of stops for snacks and gas since he left Norfolk, Virginia. With any luck, he’d make it to Versailles by four.
Versailles, Kentucky.
Cain’s new home.
He hadn’t been back to Apple Valley since that October day three years ago when Ginger had declared her love for him, offered herself to him, then turned around and fucked his cousin instead.
He ground his jaw as he revved the motor and ducked his head down lower.
It still hurt.
After three fucking years—which included six months of fucking his way through Europe with every se?orita and mademoiselle who’d spread her legs—it still fucking hurt.
A million times he’d reviewed in his head the details of their meeting out at the old barn: her passionate declarations and heavenly fucking body flush against his. The way her tits had felt under his palms, beaded and greedy, the way her mouth—which was the eighth wonder of the fucking world—had opened and sucked his tongue inside. But even though her body had been made for the sort of sin Cain loved best, it was her words that haunted him, taunting him as visions of her naked body snuggled next to Woodman blazed through his head night after night.
Cain . . . I love you. God, I love you so much.
You are. You are good. And I’m in love with you.
I know you love me, Cain. I can see it. I can feel it. I know it’s true.