She rested against the fence post, watching Mickey in the distance. But her horse didn’t gracefully trot up and welcome her home. He tossed his mane and ran farther afield.
You too, Mickey?
His regal head bobbed, as if he’d heard her.
“He’s always been a temperamental motherfucker,” Kyle drawled behind her. “Don’t take it personal.”
“It’s not like I can ride him anyway.”
Kyle swore. “Did you really load and unload all that yourself? Christ, Celia—”
“Please don’t yell at me. I can’t take any more today, especially not from you.”
“Hey. C’mere.” Kyle gently enclosed her in his arms. Feeling a little more settled, she pressed her face against his neck, inhaling his scent, and whispered, “Thank you.”
He hissed. “Your face is freezing. Let’s get you warmed up.”
I’ve got an excellent idea on how we can do that.
Celia eased back until they were nose to nose.
“That’s a dangerous look in your eye, kitten. Thinking body friction would warm us both up. Because I’m all over that.” Kyle kissed her. Slowly. Teasingly. Making her ache in a new way. Tempting her to whip off their clothes and make naked snow angels. He broke the kiss. “I’m ready to go. Why don’t you follow me back so you don’t get lost?”
“I never get lost.”
“You look a little lost right now.”
She teared up once more and he kissed her again. She felt a little more in control, because she understood she wasn’t alone. Kyle would be there for her.
“Don’t even think about unloading them bags when we get home,” he warned.
Back at the house, Celia sat listlessly on the end of the bed and watched as Kyle carried in her luggage.
“Run yourself a hot bath and soak for as long as you can sit still.” He pressed his fingers over her lips when she started to protest. “We’ve had a couple of great argument-free days, so let’s not start now.”
Celia submerged herself in the pink tub. Too bad she couldn’t drown all the voices in her head clamoring for attention.
Kyle knocked twice before he entered. He shamelessly inspected her naked body as he rested on his haunches beside the tub. “You okay?”
No. “Just sore.”
“Hungry?”
She shook her head. “But we really need to go to the store tomorrow.”
He traced her collarbone and let his finger follow the slope of her breast, dipping below the water to circle her nipple.
Celia studied Kyle’s face as he lazily stroked the beaded tip—the hunger in his eyes was undeniable. And exciting. The way he looked at her left her a little breathless.
“So pretty,” he murmured.
“So small,” she said hastily, curbing the urge to cover herself.
“So pretty,” he said again, more firmly. “I like the look of you, Celia. I always have. Lean muscles, long legs, world-class ass from spending your life on horseback.”
“I thought you had a thing for busty brunettes.”
“Doesn’t really matter now because I have a thing for you.” He continued that maddening, arousing stroking on her breast.
“Had you ever thought about asking me out…before New Year’s Eve?”
“On a date? No.”
Her gut clenched.
“Only because I figured you’d say no, or you’d come up with something cutting if I even tried. I’d decided to save myself that humiliation.” Kyle looked at her. “Was I wrong?”
“Probably not.”
“So it’s a damn good thing we skipped that awkward dating stage and went straight to marriage.”
She smiled. “Damn good thing.”
“Water’s getting cold.”
“I should probably get out. And I’m sore enough to take a pain pill and crawl into bed.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” Kyle kissed her forehead by her stitches and left the bathroom.
Celia dug out a clean pair of pajamas and downed two pain pills. Sweet Kyle had smoothed out the bedding and plumped her pillows. He even waited until she slid beneath the covers so he could tuck her in.
Her tears surfaced again and she cried until the pain pills kicked in and sent her into a deep sleep.
Chapter Six
Kyle woke to the smell of bacon cooking. He considered walking to the kitchen naked and dragging his wife back to bed for a repeat of yesterday morning’s wake-up call. The clock read five thirty. Hell, it was still dark outside. And cold as f**k, if the ice on the windows was any indication.
Yawning, he slipped on a pair of sweats.
Celia was placing the cooked bacon strips on a paper towel. She smiled at him. Her eyes were clear and she appeared to be in a happier mood.
Kyle kissed her with more passion than she’d expected. He put his mouth on her ear. “Mornin’. Smells delicious.”
“It’s just bacon. And biscuits.”
“Mmm.” He lightly nipped her earlobe. “And the food smells good too.”
She laughed softly.
“I like to hear that laughter, especially after yesterday.” It’d ripped at him to hear her crying herself to sleep. But she hadn’t wanted his comfort last night. She’d preferred to handle things herself. That’s where they were exactly alike. So he’d reluctantly left her alone. But he’d obsessively checked on her every ten minutes just in case she needed him. In between, he’d tackled two boxes of Marshall’s most recent paperwork, including notes from the VA and a home health service out of the local hospital in Rawlins. He had to check it out, see if he could learn anything about his father, even if it turned out to be a dead end. Kyle shoved aside his sense of futility and peered into her eyes. “How’re you feeling?”