Chaste (McCullough Mountain) (16 page)

“Sure.”

She
broke off a leaf and poured water from her canteen over it. When she held it
out he took the offering, his strong fingers grazing hers through the leather
covering of his gloves.

“Just
eat it?”

“Yup.”

He
popped it in his mouth, his full lips pursing as he chewed. His eyes widened.
“That’s a lot of flavor.”

She
smiled proudly. “Maybe when I’m done here I’ll make you lunch from the garden.”
Her breath was jagged as though his proximity literally stole the air from her
lungs.

He
smiled. “Bet you never need to go grocery shopping.”

The
small talk was good. It would keep her from freaking out or saying something
stupid. “I use the market for necessities, but even a lot of my cleaning
products are organically made. I don’t like polluting the earth with
unnecessary chemicals.” She lifted a window. Each one had nine panes. “This one
still has to be sanded.”

“Put
me to work.” He stepped closer and she cleared her throat, carefully stepping
away. Her skin tingled and her head seemed to be rapidly filling with bubbly,
juvenile, ridiculous thoughts.

No
other man did this to her and any other man was a safer bet than Kelly, but she
loved having him there. He was a bad boy
and she…well, she was
undesirably dull, but oh…she wanted to do bad things with this man. If only she
knew what bad things were.

Get
ahold of yourself, woman.

Sucking
in a long breath and raggedly releasing it, she handed him a sheet of sandpaper
and some tack cloth. Her body was a mess and her physical state was starting to
affect her mental competency.

Turning,
she forced her focus on her work. They sanded for the better part of an hour,
talking about everything from his family to the process of maintaining a hardy
pumpkin patch.

He
had a
lot
of family. She knew most of them from school or church, but
there were so many more she didn’t know. Growing up with just her and Roy she
found the idea of such a large family fascinating. It all seemed so
intimidating and chaotic, yet beautiful in a strangely imperfect way that
filled her with longing.

“You
never wanted to work in the logging yard with the rest of your family?” She
asked as she carefully transplanted another herb.

He
shrugged, keeping his gaze on his work, but she noticed a strange set to his
jaw as though he were self-conscious. Any signs of insecurity intrigued her. He
always appeared so confident, but the more they talked the more she realized he
was as human as the rest of them.

“The
log yard was something I grew up around. I know how to do it, but it never
really appealed.”

“How
come?”

“It’s
boring. I couldn’t imagine climbing trees day after day with no one to talk
to.”

He
was so social. “I think that’s one of the things I like about farming, the
quiet.”

“Don’t
you get lonely?”

Oh,
yes. Loneliness was something she struggled with on a daily basis, mostly at
night. “Not with work. There’s something satisfying about looking at my land
and knowing I created it with my own hands.”

“I
know that feeling.”

“Yeah?”

He
nodded as he continued to sand. “I have a creative side too. Maybe one day I’ll
show you some of the stuff I made.”

“Do
you build stuff?”

He
tipped his head and smirked at her. Her stomach bottomed out at the reminder of
his beauty. “Not yet, love. When I’m ready I’ll show you. Let’s get there
first. I’m enjoying getting to know you.”

Her
heart stuttered. Was that what this was, them getting to know each other? And
to think there was more. What was he holding back? He hadn’t said he wouldn’t
tell her, only that he wanted to wait. The idea that he intended to share his
secrets with her eventually did very dangerous things to her heart.

Once
each window was sanded and dusted clean, she reached in the back pocket of her
overalls and pulled out her plans. She’d been lost in her thoughts for the last
ten minutes. Glancing at her plans, she stilled when his touch grazed her
shoulder. Her breasts tightened and her body tingled with awareness.

“I
like these,” he said, running his finger under the suspender of her overalls.

Her
lips twitched as she glanced at him, trying to detect a hint of sarcasm. They
were men’s overalls. His blue eyes were bright in the sun and she didn’t think
he was making fun. Awkwardly, she shifted away, and laid out the paper, making
no comment about her terrible wardrobe.

She
wore what was functional for work. She’d recently visited the woman’s section
of McCrery’s Five & Dime, but even then she wasn’t sure what to purchase. After
a frustrating hour of sorting through the women’s department, she ended up
leaving with a bag of white cotton shirts and denim skirts. That was as girlie
as she got. Her upbringing hadn’t prepared her for pinks and pastels.

Kelly
crowded her back as he looked over her shoulder at the sketch of the
greenhouse. His scent mixed with the tang of sweat, labor, and soil, concocting
a potent perfume she found herself breathing in and memorizing.

“What’s
this?” he asked, leaning close and dragging his finger over the portion of the
trap door she’d sketched. Their arms brushed and she shivered. Her eyes shut as
she let the heat of his body seep into her pores.

She
swallowed, her throat parched. “That’s…um…the top. It opens on hinges for easy
access and watering, but when it’s closed it traps the heat and sun, like the
greenhouse effect.”

“And
this?” His body nudged closer. She sucked in a breath and tried to focus on
speaking, but the press of him was incredibly distracting.

“That’s
the…um…” She caught her breath. “Um…” Her eyes shut. What was the question? “I
can’t concentrate when you touch me,” she blurted.

He
didn’t move. His breath tickled the back of her neck, as the soft press of his
tongue traced over the curve leading to her shoulder. Her spine stretched as
her skin drew tight. His lips made a smooching sound. “Mmm, you taste like hard
work and sunshine.”

“Kelly…”
she rasped, silently panting. Her insides vibrated so rapidly she worried she’d
shatter into a thousand pieces of flesh and bones. Never had anyone aroused her
the way he did.

He
nuzzled her ear with his nose. “Have I ever told you how sexy you are? The
glasses make me crazy. And I love the way your hair looks different every day.
You remind me of a little garden nymph.” The weight of his palms closed over
her baggy overalls, low on her hips, and she grew aware of every part of her
body.

His
lips sealed over her ear and she quivered, her body tightening and trembling. Her
hands gripped the edge of the worktable with her leather-clad fingers, her
knees turning unstable, as he proceeded to do wonderful things to her earlobe.

It
amazed her that he found her hair nice. She’d cut it off after she graduated,
finding the long locks dreadfully annoying. When her hair had been long it was
always in her face. And she wore glasses because contacts were too much trouble
with the dust from the gardens.

Oh
my goodness! Is that his tongue in my ear?

Her
knees buckled as he kissed over her racing pulse. Strong fingers dug into her
hips, massaging beneath her overalls deep into her flesh. His hands had slipped
into the gaping sides of her clothes where her tank top met the waist of her
panties. No one had ever touched her so intimately.

“Let’s
go inside,” he whispered.

Somehow
she managed to shake her head. “I…I need to finish this.”

“Ashlynn…”

His
mouth. He had a wicked mouth. She formed some sort of response in her throat as
the tip of his finger toyed with the hem of her tank top next to her navel.

“Please…let
me in,” he whispered as his tongue traveled over the slope of her shoulder,
each word an erotic tattoo on her flesh.

Her
feet shifted and his grip tightened. She whimpered. “Kelly, please…”

His
whisper had faded to a breath of words. “I want you.”

Her
hands closed over his, tightening, stilling his progress. Those last uttered
words returned some of her common sense. “If we go inside my work will never
get done.”

His
fingers squeezed. “Do you know how many fantasies I’ve had about you? The
things I could do to you without breaking your vow…” His touch never traveled,
but the teasing chills escaping his whirling fingers seemed to go right to her
breasts.

Baiting
temptation, she breathed out a question she had no business asking. “Like
what?”

“Mmm.
I could spend days stripping you, unveiling every bit of flesh, anointing each
square inch of skin with soft kisses. Only kissing, Ashlynn, but I’d kiss you
everywhere.
”

Holy
Hannah, she needed to put some space between them. They hadn’t discussed
boundaries and the line of her virtue was becoming more blurred by the second.
Her breath stuttered out of her lungs as his mouth teased over her pulse. She
wanted to know what such kisses would feel like, but feared her control would
break.

“No
naked.” Incapable of forming complete sentences, it was the best she could do.

“Touching?”
he whispered.

Oh,
God. She wanted to feel his touch, know what it was to be caressed by those
strong fingers holding her now. She whimpered. Her promise had never been this
difficult. There had never been such a temptation as Kelly and, now, with his
hands playing over untried parts of her body, came a nagging desire for relief.
“I should say no.”

“But?”

“Maybe.”

His
front pressed into her bottom and her neck gave out, drooping her head to his
broad shoulder. He growled and his mouth sealed to her throat, his hand sifting
under the front of her overalls and holding her stomach, fingers splayed wide,
pressing her into his hard form. “So fucking sexy, Ashlynn.”

“Kelly…”

“I
want to go inside.”

He
was already inside, inside of her head, in her blood, thrumming through her veins,
inside every breath filling her lungs. She worried she could die from such over
stimulation. She’d never survive sex, at least not with this man. But that was
off the table.

Her
muscles contracted and strange urges had her body fluttering in unfamiliar
ways. It was too much. “No more,” she pleaded and he froze.

It
took him a second to answer. “Okay.”

His
hand slithered out from under her overalls and he stepped away. She caught her
breath and wiped the back of her glove over her heated cheek. She was probably
as red as a bell pepper.

She
desperately searched for her bearings, but Kelly seemed fine. From the corner
of her eye, she watched him slip his gloves back on and pick up the sanding
block as she quietly panted. The longing inside of her had transformed into a
painful ache. Her throat was thirsty, parched. Yet water did nothing to quench
her yearning.

Kelly
worked with precision and efficiency. Her concentration was crap. Every move
she made was deliberate and clumsy, but Kelly proved to be a master carpenter.
She suspected he wanted to be done with the chore and that scared her, because
the moment they finished she’d have to come up with another distraction.

The
echo of the nail hammering into the wood rattled through the air. “How far can
we go, Ashlynn?”

Her
hand stilled. Her gaze focused on the head of the nail she’d been about to
hammer into the wood. Swallowing repetitively, she struggled to find the honest
answer, but the truth seemed to abandon her in that moment. “I don’t know.”

The
weight of his stare intimidated her. She couldn’t take her eyes off the nail.
She searched for solid ground. Nail, Christ, the cross, His sacrifice.
You made this vow for a reason.

“I
never want to push you too far and do something we can’t take back, love. This
isn’t easy for me and I’m not going to deny wanting you, but I want to respect
your limitations more.”

Oh,
God, why did he have to say things that endeared him more? “Okay.”

“The
clothes stay on.” Thank goodness he was saying what she couldn’t manage.

“Yes.”

“And…what
about…” His voice was restrained. “Penetration?”

It
wasn’t a sexy word or even an erotic one, but the weight it carried had her
eyes shutting and need thrumming in her veins. “I don’t know. I can’t…” She
couldn’t talk about this. “I…”

“Okay,”
he said quietly. “We don’t need to decide now. I was just curious.”

She
continued to stare down at the half-hammered nail. What was happening to her?
“Kelly, I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I’m frightened I’ll lose my
will to say no if we go too far.”

Sand
scraped under his boots and she shut her eyes, terrified to face him. His warm
finger touched her cheek. He’d removed his glove. “Look at me, love.” She
hesitantly opened her eyes. He was crouched in front of her, his blue eyes
creased with sincerity. “I
promise
you’re safe with me.”

Her
throat was too tight to talk. She nodded and he waited a beat then nodded back
in agreement. It seemed they’d made some sort of truce. Silently, he stood and
slipped his gloves back on. They returned to their work, but her focus was
shot.

No
matter how much she tried to doddle, the greenhouse was in place in under an
hour. It took all of that time to regulate her breathing and even as the last
nail was hammered in, she still felt breathless. She sipped from the canteen as
they admired their handy work.

He
took the water from her hand as if sharing a drink was something they’d done a
hundred times before and chugged deeply from the canteen, his lips taking from
where hers had been. He pulled the bottle away with a satisfied sigh. “It looks
good. Let’s eat. I’m starved.”

She
gathered up her tools with trembling hands and he followed her to the shed. The
shed was large, more along the lines of a small barn. Inside there were only
the sharp streams of light thrown through the cracks and the shadows introduced
a new level of awareness. Dark deeds happened in shadows.

When
she turned he was directly behind her. She nearly lost her footing as she tried
to step back. His hand closed over her arm.

“Easy
there.” His blue eyes appeared dark in the dimness. Floating dust motes danced
in a ray of light that crossed the sharp angles of his face, showing off a bit
of those wild indigo highlights he had in his hair. “You have a smudge of dirt
on your cheek and it’s incredibly distracting.”

Her
head tipped back as she stared at him. His fingers trailed over the arch of her
cheek and her chest rose as she drew in a breath, his scent filling her like
champagne, making her drunk. He stepped close until her breasts were pressed
into his hard chest. She was shaking like a leaf when his mouth lowered to
hers. The kiss was soft, teasing, no tongue, yet remarkably arousing. Wicked
mouth.

“I
love the way your kisses taste,” he whispered, his lips never leaving hers.
“I’m very,
very
hungry, Ashlynn.”

Dear
Lord, she was going to pass out. Her fingers somehow fit their way between
their mouths and covered his lips, stopping him short. His smile pressed
against the calloused pads of her fingertips and she fought back a whimper when
his dimple appeared. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

He
pressed a kiss to her middle finger. “Cobbler?”

She
let out a shaky laugh. “That’s dessert and it’s not on the menu today.”

“It’ll
keep. I have a feeling…” He shook his head, his lashes lowering, cutting off
his words.

“What?”

A
small grunt of laughter rumbled in his throat. “Feed me, woman, before I shock
you.”

Her
eyes widened. She was already shocked, but wise enough to heed his warning.
Stepping to the side, she grabbed one of the many baskets and handed it to him.
She tried for normal, but still sounded breathless and scattered. “First we
have to pick out our lunch. Do you like Mexican?”

“Sure.”
His voice was tight. She looked away as he shifted his clothes, heat crawling
up her already burning cheeks.

They
walked the paths and she selected the best from each plant. The basket
overflowed with tomatoes, peppers, red onions, limes, cucumbers, and lettuce.
Her attention stayed strictly on her task. There was no way she was making eye
contact with him.

“My
sister-in-law could have a field day here,” he said, plucking an orange from
her tree.

“Who’s
your sister-in-law?”

“Mallory
McCullough.”

Ashlynn
smiled as she pulled some tomatoes off the vine. “I know Mallory. She comes to
the market almost every day with the twins.”

“She’s
a health nut.”

“And
look how healthy your nephews are for it. She’s one of my best customers.”

Kelly
followed her into the screened porch where she clipped off a handful of
cilantro.

“What
are you going to make?”

She
led him into the house where they each kicked off their boots. His boots were
enormous next to hers. “Guacamole. Don’t judge me. I order my avocados because
no matter how much I try, they won’t grow here.”

“Totally
judging.”

She
faced him then saw he was teasing. Meeting his stare was a mistake. The second
their gazes crossed, all of her flustered emotions came flooding back to the
surface. Her stare ripped away from his and locked on the floor. Stuttering,
she said, “J—just give me a minute to wash up.”

She
fled upstairs and grimaced when she saw her reflection. Her hair was a mess,
her glasses smudged, and dirt caked in every crease of her skin. Glancing at
the door, she quickly locked the knob and turned on the shower. Four minutes
later she’d scrubbed herself to a rosy shade of pink.

Ditching
her clothes in the hamper, she hustled into her bedroom and searched for a
clean outfit. She didn’t have anything cute. Resigned to some old carpenter
pants, she pulled on a ribbed tank top and headed downstairs.

* * * *

Kelly
glanced at the ceiling as the water shut off and the patter of Ashlynn’s feet
scuffed above. She’d only been gone about five minutes, but in that time he
gleaned an understanding for the kind of woman she was.

Unlike
her understated dress, her home held hidden pockets of femininity. She was
definitely a daddy’s girl. Pictures of Ashlynn and her father were posted all
over the dated refrigerator in the kitchen.

In
the den he found a glass cabinet like the one his mum had with items that
didn’t seem her style, but then he realized they were likely her mother’s. Doilies
and vases and old sewing needles and thread sat on the shelf like priceless
relics. The pictures of her mother were all framed.

So
much of Ashlynn’s personality was from her father, but her looks were
definitely from her mom, a beautiful woman with the same whiskey brown eyes and
snowy blonde hair.

The
sound of footsteps had him turning.

“Kelly?”

Like
a punch to the gut, his breath left him when his gaze settled on her. Loose
men’s pants hung low on her narrow hips. A trace of skin showed below her shirt
and he wanted to drag his tongue over the expanse of perfect lily-white flesh.
His eyes traveled up her tank top, likely a men’s small, and he choked. She
wasn’t wearing a bra.

His
eyes widened as his gaze zoomed in on her perfect tits, noting each little
groove of her areolas, and nothing seemed as important as finding out if her
nipples were pink or brown.

Fuck.

Swallowing,
his gaze went to her face, now clean of all dust. She wore nothing on her skin
but her glasses and her hair was damp, pointing every which way. She was the
most striking image he’d ever seen. Today would be a test in restraint.

“What
are you doing in here?” She didn’t sound angry, just curious.

“Sorry.”
He swallowed, his voice hoarse with longing. “I was passing the time.”

Her
hand carefully adjusted a frame holding a picture of her and her mother. It
seemed a natural thing for her to make sure it was in the right place, a sign
of respect for the woman who brought her into this world.

“I’ll
start lunch now,” she said, turning as if not wanting to get too close to him.

Perhaps
he should go. Everything suddenly seemed too complicated. He was suffocating
with longing and feared he might just take her right on those steps with the
dated wood planks.

Don’t
you dare leave. You made it inside.

Truth
be told, he didn’t have the strength to walk away. But he made her a promise
that she was safe with him and he intended to keep it—even if it killed him.

He
was under her spell, dying to see what she’d do next, hear what she might say,
find out where she might blush. She had the most intoxicating scent coming off
her, soft like a hidden spring. It was soap, of course, but nothing like the
floral musk most women wore.

He
followed her into the small kitchen and drew in a deep breath. God, that scent.
His body hardened noticeably and he sat down, seeking distraction in the
environment. The walls were cornflower blue and the ceiling a soft shade of
yellow. It was a country kitchen, complete with an old basin sink and an
antiquated gas stove, the kind that still had legs like furniture.

She
efficiently washed off the items they’d collected from the garden and proceeded
to carry them to the small wooden table along with a two bowls and a cutting
board.

“So
how do you make guacamole?” he asked, arching his spine along the stiff wooden
chair in hopes of finding space in his ever-tightening jeans.

Her
hands expertly handled the knife, skillfully cutting into the avocado and
scraping back the brown skin. He frowned. That green stuff looked more like
what he’d find in his nephews’ diapers than anything he wanted to eat.

“The
main ingredient is avocado, which is becoming more and more popular. I really
wish I had better luck growing them, but our climate isn’t right.” She scooped
out the green goop and dumped it in one of the bowls, tossing the skin and pit
in the other bowl. “Here, you can mash it with the fork. Not too much though.
The trick’s to leave it chunky.”

His
lip twitched as he mashed. Ashlynn diced a tomato and minced half an onion.
“Fold this in,” she said, tossing it over the green goop.

“Fold?”

“Like
this.” She took the fork and turned the goop over the veggies. He shut his eyes
and inhaled her scent. Annnnnnd…he was hard again. The fork clanked on the bowl
and she left him to the rest, not seeming to notice the effect she had on him.

The
blade quickly chopped the cilantro and he contemplated her innocence. A week
ago she’d never been kissed, but she had to know some stuff. Yet she seemed
totally oblivious to the fact that his dick could hammer nails at the moment.
And she always seemed flustered and surprised whenever he got close enough to
kiss her, like she couldn’t fathom how he found her so sexy and tempting.

He
liked watching her move. She stood and returned with a juicer. Halving a lime, she
pressed the green citrus over the rounded spike. The delicate muscles in her
biceps flexed as the glass filled with fresh lime. After pouring the juice over
the guacamole, she added a few shakes of salt and pepper.

Swiping
her finger across the mixture, she popped it in her mouth. “Perfect. Taste it.”

While
the goop smelled good, it looked inedible. However, her hand had his mouth
watering. He grabbed her wrist and folded his fingers over her small palm,
keeping one out. Using the same digit that had been in her mouth, he swiped up
a glob of green and closed his lips over the tip.

She
gasped as he sucked. Wow, the stuff was delicious. Using his tongue, he cleaned
her finger and met her gaze. Her brown eyes went from whiskey to dark
chocolate. Her mouth trembled as he slowly pulled her digit away from his lips.
“Delicious.”

“I…I’ll
make the salad while you munch on that.” She turned and poured some blue chips
into a bowl. Her eyes wouldn’t meet his as she placed the bowl in front of him.

He
sampled the chips and guacamole as he watched the Ashlynn Fisher cooking show.
She chopped ingredients for a salad and tossed them into a large bowl. “What’s
that you’re putting on it?”