The Wrong Brother's Bride (19 page)

“Papa’s settling in. He’s none too happy, but I don’t think he feels like causing much trouble. Not tonight.”

“Good. I don’t feel like an argument. What about my things?” He should have come in and removed them himself, but after he assisted Gideon up the porch steps, he’d needed to get away from the surly preacher.

“I moved some of your clothes. We can get the rest tomorrow. There are empty drawers in the bureau you can fill.” She shaved peelings off the potato, dropping them into a bucket.

August grabbed a potato slice and bit into it. He grinned when she shot him a scolding look.

“Are you nervous about sharing a room with me?”

She pursed her lips. “Not much to be nervous about, is there?”

“I wonder.” He smiled, leaning closer to catch her lilac scent. “Think I’ll turn in early tonight, after dinner. You can have some time with Gideon, if you like.”

Loyal finished the potato and put the knife aside. “You look tired. Feeling alright?”

He brushed his hand through his hair. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure. I have to admit, I was worried when the walls started coming down.”

“Not nearly as much as I was. Don’t you ever scare me so badly again, August. We couldn’t get along without you.” Tiny lines formed around her eyes. She licked her lips and put her hand against his face, running her thumb along his cheekbone. “More than that, I don’t want to.”

August opened his mouth to tell her he loved her, hesitating before the words came out. “Gideon couldn’t wait for help. I had to do something.”

“I wish you’d let me look at your knee. Or put some ointment on your back. It would help you sleep.”

He didn’t think he’d sleep at all, lying next to her, the way he’d always desired. “Don’t trouble yourself. You had a hard day, worrying about your father. You need rest as much or more than either of us.”

“I feel fine.”

Her hand fell away from his face. August wished he could take it again. Tonight, he consoled himself, he could get as close as he wanted.

“You look pretty. Even when you’re worried.”

“I’m sure I don’t. You’re so tired, you’re seeing things. Go change your clothes. You have smudges and stains all over your shirt and trousers.” She shook her head. “I’m not sure they’ll ever come clean.”

“They don’t have to be perfect. I can wear them for working around the house. You need help out here?” He wanted to sit for a while without any activity, though with Loyal weeks away from giving birth, he didn’t feel right leaving her many chores.

“No, I’m nearly ready to start cooking. Are you sure you don’t want me to kiss your knee better?”

He fought a grin. “There are other places I’d prefer you kiss.”

“Not with my father in the house,” she whispered, craning her head to look around him as though she feared Gideon might be listening.

“That’s why we have walls and a door, sweetheart.” He itched to pull her closer and show her he didn’t care who was in the house.

“We can discuss it later. Behind the door.” Loyal’s voice was low and firm.

“There’s not much to discuss. You either want to kiss me…” He leaned closer, mouth inches from hers. “Or you don’t.”

Quick as a cat pouncing on a mouse, she bounced on her toes, pressed her lips to his and stepped backward. “Will that serve for now?”

He grinned because she’d given in—at least a little. “With the promise of something better later?”

“We’ll see.” She waved a hand at him. “By the time you get the dirt cleaned out of your ears, I should have supper on the table.”

August didn’t need a mirror to see how filthy he was. “By the time all the dirt is out, it’ll be time to start breakfast and get dirty all over again.”

He left the kitchen with her soft laughter ringing in his ears, a sound he would never grow weary of hearing.

After dinner, August settled into the feather mattress, stiffer than an old man in a rocking chair. His knee was swollen and from what he could see of his back in the mirror, he was already turning black and blue.

“I swear I don’t know how you managed to stay alive without someone caring for you.” Loyal stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. “Not hurt? August O’Dell, I don’t know what’s worse—your pride, or your lack of sense. What happened inside the house?”

“Some boards fell. It’s nothing. Save the pity for your father.” He drew the short leg of his drawers down over the scraped limb and leaned back against the headboard. The mattress felt like a cloud from heaven supporting his aching frame.

“What pity? If you’re so stubborn you’d rather roll around in misery than let your wife help you, I don’t have time to spare you any pity.” She folded her arms under her breasts, pushing them so they strained against the fabric of her dress.

He tried not to stare, but her curves took his mind off the pain. He knew she wasn’t really mad. Her scolding hid her worry. “You have enough to do without cosseting me. A few bumps are a small price to pay for a man’s life.”

Her face softened. She crossed the room and sat by him, weaving her fingers through his hair. August closed his eyes as she traced patterns over his scalp.

“Just when I think I couldn’t possibly be more pleased our marriage is working out, you go and do something else that makes me proud to be your wife.”

His heart slammed into his ribs and his eyes popped open. She was proud of him. “I didn’t do anything Jer—”

“You did it for the same reasons he would have. Because Papa matters to me even though you have your differences. I know you care about me, August.” She averted her eyes, thick lashes brushing her cheeks. “I care for you too. So let me fuss. Isn’t it nice once in a while to know someone wants to soothe your pain and help you heal?”

He swallowed. “I never believed anyone would.”

“I want to.” Loyal took his hand. “What made you change? Was it…did it have something to do with the widow you met?”

August couldn’t tell her about the letter he’d received from Jeremiah almost a month after he’d settled in at the logging camp. The words were burned in his memory.

You don’t deserve a woman like Loyal. You never will.

At the time, he’d been so angry he’d burned the letter. It was months before he’d learned to trust people and to find peace in the comfort of another woman’s arms. He wanted more—specifically Loyal, but back then, he’d known Jeremiah was right. He’d never get her. Damned strange how things changed. Bitter pain struck his heart.

Loyal shifted on the bed. “You’re tired. I think you must have nodded off.”

“Just thinking. It wasn’t all because of her. I finally saw what others did. The way I treated people, taking advantage of them, picking on the weaker ones because I could. I wasn’t a good person.” It shamed him to admit, though she already knew all his faults. “I was headed for the end of a rope if I didn’t straighten up.”

“I’m glad you figured it out. What a pity to have lost you.” She lifted his hand and rubbed his knuckles against her smooth cheek. “Is she beautiful?”

She meant the widow, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Loyal. “She is.”

“She didn’t have any children to change her figure?” Brown eyes met his, shining with warmth.

Could she see what she was doing to him? Blood surged to his groin. “Any figure is fine with me.”

“Does she have lips like rose petals?” She leaned close, lips parted just enough for her tongue to slide over them.

His groin tightened. He shook his head. “Cherries. Sweet and plump.”

She had to know he was talking about her. The teasing faded from her eyes. “Did you love her?”

“No.” As honest an answer as he could provide.

Loyal’s teeth sank into her full lower lip. “Have you ever loved a woman?”

Torn between the truth and hiding his reasons for leaving, August hesitated. “Once.”

“Oh.” Her grip slackened. “Didn’t she love you in return?”

“I don’t think so.” He held his breath, realizing he’d said too much. “It was a long time ago. I’m where I want to be, married to a woman I admire and respect.”

She nodded solemnly. “I know I said you might get another kiss, except…would it be alright if you…” She rubbed her hands over her arms. “If you’d hold me?”

Swearing silently, he realized she missed Jeremiah. She might care for him, but he was living in his brother’s shadow. It was a frigid place to be. He wanted her and he’d have to take her any way he could. If it meant letting her weep over her dead fiancé while he held her close, so be it.

He moved toward the opposite side of the bed. “Unless you prefer this side?”

“No, either one is fine.” She rose awkwardly, fingers fluttering at the neckline of her dress. “I need to undress.”

“You can turn down the lamp. I won’t watch if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Her eyes darted to the mirror. It wasn’t as large as the one in the room he’d occupied, though at the right angle it would provide a good reflection of anyone standing in front of it. August suppressed a smile.

“I didn’t mean to peek when you were undressing yesterday,” she said. The redness coloring her face proved the words were a lie.

He ducked his head so she wouldn’t see his smile.

Loyal turned the key on the lamp until the flame went out. It wasn’t dark enough to hide her completely. He made out her outline against the wall, the curve of her stomach and breasts, small hands fluttering over her clothes as she removed and folded them. She shook out a billowing nightdress and slipped it over her head.

The mattress sank when she joined him on the bed, sliding beneath the thin summer quilt. The bed was easily big enough for both of them, though she left several inches between their bodies. It might as well have been miles. August was sure she was laying on the edge. He turned his head, trying to make out her features in the dark.

She rolled onto her left side, facing him. “I can’t lie on my back. It makes me feel squashed. And I don’t feel as though my heart is trying so hard to catch up if I’m facing this way.”

“I don’t mind. Has he—or she—moved again?” He wanted to put his hand on her stomach and feel for himself, but didn’t want her to think he was taking liberties. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to when he knew she wasn’t wearing much under the nightdress.

“All the time. Except right now, when someone wants her—or him—to. I wasn’t sure you’d want to feel it again. You seemed upset by it the last time.” There was a hint of worry in her voice.

“It was surprising, but I wasn’t upset because of the baby. I started thinking about the things Jeremiah is missing. I’m only the uncle. It isn’t the same as a father.” His voice sounded gravelly as he tried to suppress his emotions.

Loyal moved closer. “There’s no one in the world I’d rather have help raise my child.”

He could barely make out her face, but the sincerity in her tone made his blood pound through his head. She’d made the allowance for him to be a real part of her family. He felt like he’d waited for this moment all his life. August put his hand on her stomach. He stretched his neck until his lips pressed against hers.

Loyal’s hand swept through his hair as she deepened the kiss. The soft nightdress brushed his bare chest, and through the cloth, he felt her nipples harden. Delicate hands caressed his neck, cupped his face. Her touch was fire—the kind that promised no more lonely nights, that guaranteed him paradise. August reached for the neckline of the gown and tugged it away from her skin. Light-headed, he kissed the tops of her smooth mounds, filling his hand with soft flesh. He gave her left breast a gentle sweep with his thumb, worried about hurting her. After all this time, he was certain he’d wake up from the dream any second.

Loyal’s breath was hot against his forehead, her lips skimming his brow. He wanted to strip the garment off her and kiss every inch of her skin. To claim the one woman he’d never give up again.

He exhaled. “Loyal.”

His voice sounded husky now, harsh amid the noise of crickets through the open window. Could she know how much he wanted her, just by saying her name? The tension of years coiled in it? He’d been frustrated by her rebuffs and interruptions before. Tonight, he ached for more. Her hand left his bare shoulder, dragging her nightdress up as she kicked the quilt to the end of the bed. The gown fell on the floor behind her.

“Your father—”

She silenced him with a kiss. “Our wedding night is long past, and I’m far from untouched. I’m not sure kissing will suffice any longer.”

“You’re certain?” He didn’t want her to suffer any guilt over bedding him while she still grieved for his brother.

“I need you.”

At her whispered admission, he stripped off his drawers. His breath left in a rush when her hand curled around him. The touch he’d waited for was worth each second of agony. A groan left his throat as the ache building inside grew harsher.

Loyal pushed him against the mattress. The rope supports squeaked, but he paid no mind to the noise as she positioned herself over him.

August gripped the headboard as dreams became reality.