Page 46 of The Rebel with Broken Strings
His words settled over Aubrey like a warm blanket, soothing her doubts. She snuggled closer, breathing in his scent of leather and pine.
“Maybe,” she mused, “maybe we could build something that has room for everything we want and need.”
Gunner’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle. “We can have anything we want.”
“Of course we can.” She smiled.
They soon fell into a comfortable silence, gazing out at the twinkling lights of Timber Falls below.
Until the soft rustle of fabric broke the silence as Gunner shifted, reaching behind him. She lifted her head from his shoulder and watched, curiosity piqued, as he pulled out a well-worn guitar case.
“What are you up to?” she asked.
His eyes twinkled as he unlatched the case, carefully extracting his Gibson. “Just feeling inspired.”
Her breath caught as he removed his gloves and positioned the guitar on his lap, his strong hands caressing the polished wood with a tenderness that made her heart flutter.
His fingers found their place on the strings, and he began to strum a gentle melody. The notes floated on the night air. And when he started to sing, his rich baritone sent shivers down Aubrey’s spine.
“Back roads twist through little towns,
Where neon fades and stars hang down.
City lights might shine so bright,
But peace is found on country nights.”
Aubrey closed her eyes, letting the tingles from the music and Gunner’s voice spread through her entire being.
* * *
An hour later, Gunner’s hand enveloped Aubrey’s as he pushed open his heavy oak front door. The scent of pine and woodsmoke greeted them. No matter how many times she’d been here, Gunner always loved the way Aubrey’s smile brightened at his house. He’d felt the same way when the designer had shown him the plans for the property. And every day since he’d moved in, he’d found a wonderful peace here.
As they moved further into the living room, he reluctantly released her hand, making his way to the river rock fireplace. “Let’s get you warmed up,” he remarked, crouching down to start a fire. Within minutes, the flames licked at the fresh wood.
Aubrey settled onto the plush leather couch, tucking her legs beneath her. “You always do know how to warm me up,” she said, a hint of playfulness in her tone.
He glanced over his shoulder, feeling a slow smile spread across his lips. “Well now, Miss Hale, I do believe that’s a compliment.”
The fire crackled to life, filling the comfortable silence between them. He finally rose, brushing his hands on his jeans, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that spoke volumes.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
A blush crept up her neck. “Just appreciating the view,” she admitted.
He crossed the room, settling beside her on the couch. “Do you want more of the view—” he began.
But before he could finish, she leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss that tasted of promise.
With a soft groan, he pulled Aubrey into his arms, deepening the kiss. The warmth of her mouth against his hardened his cock to steel. Her fingers tangled in his hair as his hands roamed her back, tracing the curve of her spine through her shirt. Each touch was electric, charged with desire.
“Daaaarlin’,” Gunner drawled, the words grazing the space between them like a promise. He could feel Aubrey’s breath mix with his, could see the way her eyes darkened, the way she trembled against him. The house around them faded to nothing—just her, him and the fire burning hotter with every second.
Nothing mattered now. All he knew was the feel of her in his arms, soft where he was hard, delicate yet strong enough to pull him under. When their lips met again, the kiss turned desperate, a wildfire sweeping through his veins. Her hands roamed his chest, fingers fumbling with his flannel shirt, brushing against bare skin with every button she freed. He felt her touch like a spark, each press of her hands driving his need higher.
“God, Aubrey,” he murmured against her mouth, his hands finding her waist and pulling her closer. The curve of her body fit against his perfectly, and he didn’t know how he’d ever gone a day without this—without her. He dragged his lips away, kissing down her neck, tasting her skin. She shivered, a soft sound that damn near undid him escaping her throat.
“You taste so sweet,” he said, his voice roughened by the hunger clawing at him. He meant it, every word. She was intoxicating, and he couldn’t get enough—would never get enough.
