Mara McBain (11 page)

She sat silent on a straw bale as he took care of Bowie and strung the boar up. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, wondering what she was thinking. Rubbing her arms, her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear the words. He frowned.

“I’m almost done here, darlin', and then you can take a hot soak and warm up.”

Her gaze jerked to him, eyes wide. She shook her head. 

“You have to be starving,” she whispered.

“We’ll get to that soon enough. For now, you need to get cleaned up and thawed out.”

A few minutes later, he guided her through the back door, his hand resting on the small of her back. The surprising smell of hot oil and frying chicken greeted them, making his mouth water. Heat blanketed the house, and he curled his hands, trying to lose the pins and needles feeling that had crept into his fingers. Cole turned from the stove with a smile and pulled a startled Gen into a hug.

“I’m glad you’re okay, little sister.”

Trey raised a brow in question over his wife’s head, and his brother indicated the living room with a tilt of his head.

Returning the hug, Gen stepped back, misery haunting her beautiful silver stare as she shook her head, trembling fingers covering her mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her tortured gaze sliding from one man to the other. She reached for the tongs in Cole’s hand. “Please. I’ll…” Her words faltered, hand falling away as his uncle’s shadow fell across the opposite doorway.

Trey laid his hands on her shoulders as she backed into him. His thumb brushed across her nape.

“Thank God you’re back safe,” Wade said, a smile that never reached his eyes curving his thin lips. “You have no idea how upset Trey was to come home and find you missing.”

Gen’s back pressed tighter to him. She was shaking. A low growl rumbled through the kitchen, and it took the frightened dart of his wife’s gaze to let Trey know he was responsible for the noise. Cole’s arms opened without a word, and Trey nudged his wife out of the way to lunge at Wade.

The solid post at the base of the stairs shuddered as he drove his uncle into it with his broad shoulder. Picking him up by the throat, Trey shook him like a rag doll. Umbrellas, canes, and walking sticks scattered as Wade crashed into the old butter churn crock that sat next to the front door. He barely had time to roll over before Trey buried the toe of his boot in his gut, lifting Wade clear of the floor. A roar ripped from his throat as he stomped the son-of-a-bitch. He wanted to kill him.

The thought sobered him like a bucket of ice water. Stumbling back, he swiped a hand over his goatee, hand shaking at the rage and adrenalin pumping through his body. With his size he was no stranger to fights, but he’d rarely been the aggressor. His goal had always been to finish things as quickly as possible, with just enough force to win and convince the other guy not to come back. Tonight, he wanted to maim and it was a sickening feeling.

Wade coughed, rolling over on his stomach and pulling his knees up under him. One arm cradled his ribs as he tried to push himself up from the floor.

“I don’t know what she told you, but we can talk—”

Lips drawn back in a snarl, Trey brought the heel of his cowboy boot down on Wade’s splayed hand with everything he had. Wade’s piercing scream cut through the house. 

“No more talk. It’s simple. Don’t
ever
touch what’s mine again,” Trey ground out.

Wade twisted in agony, clutching his shattered hand to his chest. Rose crouched in the corner, her round face pale in terror. Pinning her under his heavy glare, Trey fought to push civil words past his tongue.

“You know what kind of man you’re married to. You can go with your husband, or you and Lilly can stay here. It’s your choice. Make it,” he said and turned to the kitchen. “Get him the hell out of my house. Throw him in the back of the truck. I’ll have his things ready in a few minutes. I want you to take him into town. If he doesn’t have enough cash for a hotel room, pay for one night. That is the end of our concern,” he ordered, taking his trembling wife from the haven of his brother’s embrace.

Sweeping Gen up into his arms, he climbed the stairs without a backward glance. 

Perched on the toilet lid, Genevieve fought to still the traitorous shake of her body. Trey knelt beside the tub, swirling his huge hand in the hot water to stir in the bubble bath. The same hand had closed around Wade’s throat and lifted him in the air with the ease of a doll. She tried not to look at the boots in front of her.
Don’t ever touch what’s mine again.
She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. She’d heard the crunch of bone when Trey had purposely stomped Wade’s hand under his boot. How could that be the same man that had carried her upstairs in his arms and was now drawing her bath?

His hands had been so gentle in the kitchen, and then he’d exploded. She rubbed at her arms. If she was honest, she’d known it was coming. She’d seen him fighting his anger bent over the fallen boar, had felt the tension humming through him as he’d helped her from the horse and held her. Why had he been holding back? She jumped as his hand landed on her knee.

“Come on, darlin'. Let’s get your clothes off. You’ll feel a lot better after a soak,” he said softly.

His hands were gentle as he helped her undress. She shivered as the back of his fingers brushed over the swell of her breasts much like Wade’s had in the barn. The thought of that man touching her made her long for the bath.
Don’t ever touch what’s mine again.
Trey’s words echoed in her mind. There had been such rage behind the words, and he didn’t even know about Catherine. She bit her lip. That jealous, possessive rage had been unleashed for her. The thought was humbling, frightening, but still sent a tiny thrill through her. She felt a blush creeping up her neck.

He picked her up and slowly eased her down into the hot water, stopping whenever she gasped before lowering her a bit more. His strength never failed to amaze her. She looked up as he placed a sweet kiss on top of her head.

“Take your time. I have some things to take care of and then we’ll eat when you’re done.”

She watched him walk to the door, rolling his shirt sleeves back down his powerful forearms.

“Trey?”

He turned at his name. She hesitated, self-conscious under his scrutiny.

“Thank you.”

His head cocked to the side in puzzlement.

“For what?”

“For coming to find me, rescuing me from the pig, but mostly for believing me,” she whispered.

He studied her for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Don’t ever lie to me; Gen. That will make it easy to believe you.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, turning on a heel to leave the room. She sank lower into the suds, glad not to have to answer.         

Her stomach growled as she crept down the stairs. A yawn stretched her jaw. She’d almost fallen asleep in the water. Her fingers and toes were pruned. Peeking into the kitchen, she admired the bunch of her husband’s bicep as he mashed potatoes. A frown of concentration stamped his face, and she had to smile. His head snapped around as if he felt her regard. She bit her lip and offered a tremulous smile. The corner of his mouth turned up in the lopsided grin she loved.

“Feel better?”

“Much,” she answered shyly and slipped into the kitchen to help get things on the table. 

“Cole should be back any minute and then we can eat.”

“Did Rose and Lilly go with him?” she asked softly, keeping her eyes on the bread and preserves she was adding to the table.

“Yeah.”

Gen nodded. She’d known they would. Women might have the right to vote, as Wade had sneered that first night, but they had few other rights. If anything, the recent hard times had knocked them a step back. Women were expected to keep the house and family together while compensating for the fact their man was earning less, or none at all, robbing him of his pride and making tempers short. It was a bad situation for them all. She peeked at her husband through the veil of her hair, glad he couldn’t read her thoughts.

Trey’s stare tracked her every movement as she set the table. As glad as she was he couldn’t read minds, she’d give anything to know what was going through his head. The rumble of the truck in the drive was a welcome diversion. She pulled the platter of chicken from the oven as the back door opened.

“You didn’t have to wait on me,” Cole said, joining them in a rush of cold air.

“It was only right,” Trey countered. “Everything go all right?”

“There was a small rumbling about involving the authorities, but I think we came to an understanding.”

“An understanding?” Trey inquired dryly, one eyebrow arching in question.

“If he doesn’t want to be gut shot and his writhing carcass fed to the hogs, he’ll keep his mouth shut and leave my big brother and his alone,” Cole said with a cocky grin and a sly wink.

Gen’s hand flew up to stifle equal parts shock and amusement, but Trey threw back his head and let his laughter ring unchecked.

“I guess you can bring the heat with the heart when you need to, little brother.”

“It’s the McCade way. No one messes with my brothers but me,” Cole said, punching Trey in the shoulder hard enough to stagger the big man. 

Trey grabbed the back of his brother’s neck to give him an affectionate shake and then shoved him toward the table. “Let’s eat.”

Securing the towel around his hips, Trey spread his arms wide to stretch weary shoulders. It had been a hell of a day. Strolling down the hall, he paused at the bedroom door. His eyes locked on the still form under the quilts. The day had taken a toll on his bride. He’d seen the strain on her beautiful face, but she’d showed a quiet strength today. Through everything, she’d kept the tears at bay. Thank God. He hated tears. 

Moving to the side of the bed, he stared down at her. He fought the urge to stroke her copper hair. She’d taken a leap of faith telling him the truth today. He’d seen the fear in her eyes. Family ties were a strong bond. He’d like to think that even if he hadn’t already had an innate distrust for Wade, that he would’ve recognized the truth when he heard it. He frowned. He’d never know for sure.

Rounding the bed, he ditched the towel and pulled on pajamas. He eased into bed as gently as possible, trying not to wake her. The moment his back hit the mattress, his wife rolled and snuggled up to his side. Her freckled nose rubbed over his bare chest before she rested her cheek against him with a soft sigh. Her hand splayed over his abs. He smiled and wrapped his arm around her, tucking her close and kissing the top of her head. Even if she only sought the heat of his body, the press of hers was pleasant. Bending his other arm behind his head, he closed his eyes.

The sun’s first rays were peeking through the curtains as Genevieve’s eyes fluttered open. Curled against her husband’s side with his strong arm around her, she couldn’t think of a place she’d rather be. The previous day’s events crept into her happiness, and she shuddered lightly. Trey’s other hand came up and pulled the quilt tighter around her. She looked up in surprise.

“Good morning, darlin',” he murmured, his deep voice gravely with morning rust.

Gen smiled against his chest. She loved his voice. She couldn’t resist kissing one well developed pectoral muscle. She loved his chest too. If the truth were to be told, she couldn’t think of anything about this man that she didn’t love. He raised both eyebrows, a little smile twitching at the corner of his lips. He seemed to be waiting for something.

“Oh! Good morning,” she said, a blush flooding her cheeks.

“It’s about to get a lot better,” he said.

 His hand trailed up her side under the sheets taking her nightgown with it. She shivered as his fingers danced over her ribs. A grin tugged at his lips, and he suddenly rolled her underneath him. The heat in his gaze did funny things to her as she struggled to think straight or even breathe. She bit her lip as she felt the searing length of him against her thigh. His eyes drifted shut for a moment as he rubbed against her. A low growl rumbled from him, and his hand dipped between her legs to stroke her most private places. It was amazing how that snarl could be threatening in one context and so arousing in another. Whimpering, she writhed as his fingers worked their magic. It was hard to remember to be embarrassed when something felt that good.

Lips closing over a nipple, Trey suckled her breast with zeal. Gen clenched her teeth as his tongue flickered over the tight nub he coaxed.  Kissing across her chest, he treated the other breast to the same wicked attention. Tentatively, she threaded her fingers through the thick tangle of his hair, pressing his head down pleadingly until she thought she could take no more. Her lips parted in protest as he pulled back and slid back up her.  

His mouth swallowed her cry as he captured her lips and thrust into her in one movement. Her hips arched off the bed. She fought to breathe through the initial feeling of being split open, knowing in moments his invasion would feel heavenly. Trey extended his arms, rising up over her as his hips started to rock. Gen shyly stroked the strong planes of his back. A contented sound rolled from his throat, sounding like a tom cat’s purr.

A keening cry ripped from her as his thrusts deepened. Fingers biting into the swell of his firm backside, she urged him to take her harder. Her head snapped back and forth on the pillow as she fought the intoxicating pull of pleasure. One of his hands gripped her hip, holding her steady as he drove into her, his face a mask of concentration and need. His name exploded from her throat in a hoarse plea, her body spasming violently around him. The bed springs squawked discordantly as he slammed into her, head thrown back as he sought his own release. She clung to him, little squeaks escaping her with each hard lunge of his hips. Above her, his lips moved in a silent appeal, and she strained to read the words before his passionate roar drowned out all else.

He collapsed over her, pinning her to the mattress. His powerful chest rose and fell like a bellows. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Just as she was about panic, Trey managed to push up on one elbow. His hand shook as he swept his sweaty mane back from his face. His tongue ran over lips parted with the pant of his breath.