Page 66 of True North

And he does.

Hot ropes of white land on me, sliding over my breasts. The warmth of it caresses my nipples. I’m mesmerized by the sight of him. Clenched, angled jaw. Deep blue, lust-drunk eyes looking down at me as his fingers grip my chin, tilt my head up, and force my eyes to his.

His face is wrecked, a war between pleasure and emotion cracking it six ways to Sunday. His breathing is a choppy rasp.

I push to my feet, taking his jaw in my palms as I sink my mouth over his. His fire meets my own, as if being spent all over me is only the beginning.

I break the kiss and study his expression. “No turning back now, is there?”

“I hope not,” he breathes.

How could we? This force of nature that isuskeeps pulling him and I along.

Both of us helpless to pull away.

I don’t think I will ever want to...

ChapterSeventeen

HARRY

Ma doesn’t seem to have noticed our half-day absence. If she did, she doesn’t say a word. She sits at the dining table, mending some item of clothing. Never stops.

Louisa left not long after we made it back, midafternoon. It’s empty without her here now. I understand this is not what she planned. But my heart can’t stop reaching for her, regardless.

“I need a drivin’ lesson,” Ma says out of the blue.

“What for?” I ask.

The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Her focus on the work in her hands intensifies. The old man never permitted her to drive, claiming she would never be home if she had a means of getting herself places. Old bastard never relented, not in all the years they were married. Not even when she would have been better off drivin’ him when he was drinkin’.

I won’t be him.

“When?” I ask.

Her gaze pops up from the needle and thread in her hand. “You don’t look too busy now.”

I chuckle.

“Sure, I have a little time before I need to get back to fixin’ every run-down bit of this place.”

“Good.” She drops the darning to the table and makes her way to the front door, pushing on her floppy hat and sliding on her weathered boots. Shaking my head, I follow, planting my own hat on my head and tugging on my boots. By the time I get to the old buckboard truck, she’s in the driver’s seat, hands on the wheel.

Like a kid with a new toy.

I drop into the passenger’s seat and shut my door. “What’s got you wantin’ to be drivin’?”

“Well, we’re much further from town now. I can’t be askin’ you to take me in like we used to. Plus...” She glances to me briefly before rendering her focus back to the dusty windshield.

“Plus?”

“You won’t be wantin’ me around all the time. You two need to?—”

“You two? What are you talkin’ about?”

“Louisa and you need space for a proper start.” She nods her head, as if cementing the idea.

“Ma, Louisa and I, we’re...” I don’t know what we are. I know what I want. I still haven’t gotten up the nerve to ask her what she truly wants. I had ample time to do so today. Did I do it? Nope.

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