Blue Hollow Falls Read online

  “I’m doing okay. Enlisting in the Army isn’t like working for a Fortune 500 company by any stretch, but if you’re smart, you can do well enough.” He grinned. “Easier to say when you haven’t had to take care of anyone but yourself your whole adult life. But I knew I’d want to do something post-military, and the microbrewery was a dream of mine from pretty early on. The father of one of my Army buddies is an investment counselor.” He shrugged. “That’s worked out pretty well for me.”

  “The universe is paying back one of its angels,” she said decisively. “I like it.”

  He just shook his head, but there was a smile to go with it. “Here we are,” he said, as he pulled up in front of the house.

  She turned from him and looked out for the first time as he parked the truck and turned off the engine. “Oh . . . Sawyer. Oh my goodness, look at it.”

  The house was much like Addie’s but larger. Both were log cabins, with log-on-log frames where the logs crossed and extended out at the corners. Like Addie’s, his also had a stacked stone foundation and a deep front porch, but in his case, the porch wrapped around three full sides of the place and had a hand-hewn, branch-style railing that ran along the edge. The tin panel roof was red, or had been at one point, and a wide stone fireplace occupied the middle of the back side, rather than the end, like at Addie’s place. Even in the moonlight there was no missing that it needed a great deal of care. The porch sagged, the fireplace was crumbling, a good part of the porch railing was down or missing entirely, and the tin roof hadn’t fared much better here than the one at the mill.

  “I don’t know what I expected, but it was nothing like this. It’s big and rugged and fits so perfectly in this landscape.”

  “It needs a lot of TLC,” he said, “and even then, I may have to gut more than I can save. I haven’t had all the testing done on it yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it has some fairly serious issues. That’s to be expected with something this old.”

  “How old is it? You said the old trapper’s cabin was early eighteen hundreds?”

  “Well, the first house built on this foundation was done about twenty or so years after the hunting cabin, around eighteen-seventy or thereabout. It burned down, struck by lightning. The rebuild was done after the turn of the twentieth century. It burned down, too. Forest fire got it and a bunch of acreage along with it. Sol’s father inherited the burned-out shell and the property after his grandfather abandoned the area entirely. He came up here after he got out of the Navy, cleared a lot of the burned out area, tilled it, and farmed it, both crops and livestock. Eventually, he rebuilt the house. Same foundation. I haven’t checked with the county on the last plans that were filed, but according to Sol, that would have been in the early to mid-thirties. So, not quite a hundred years old. Sol inherited the place and renovated it in the late sixties, put in modern appliances, indoor plumbing, upgraded the electricity. I don’t think anything’s been done to it since then.”

  “How long has it been empty? I mean, when did Sol move to the senior home?”

  “It’s been almost sixteen years now. He had a stroke in his mid-seventies. It wasn’t much after that.”

  “Wow,” Sunny breathed, looking back at the place. “What a heritage this property has had. How many acres is it all told?”

  “Little over two hundred.”

  Her mouth dropped open at that. “Wow, so pretty much—”

  “The whole pocket. Yes. It was all Jenkins’s property. Always has been. I don’t plan to sell any of it off. Some is high pasture, but more of it is woods, and rocks, and fairly rough terrain. Plus there’s the creek.” He nodded toward the house. “The well seems in decent shape, but I haven’t tested the electricity yet. It’s been turned off for years and I’ll want it inspected before calling the utility company and flipping on any breakers.” He smiled. “Last thing I need is to burn the place down a third time.” He looked back at the porch, the roof. “No central air and the heat is from a woodstove. There’s also a fireplace, but the flue has been closed up for years and it’s in pretty bad shape. Will’s going to take a look at it, but there’s a laundry list of more immediate concerns. There’s the leaky roof and the havoc it has wreaked on the interior.” He grinned. “Your basic dream house.”

  She didn’t look at him, but simply nodded as he spoke. Her gaze was still on the house. “Oh, I hope you can get it all fixed up again. It’s got so much character. What’s the layout like on the inside?”

  “A lot like Addie’s actually. The main floor is mostly a great room that is both kitchen and living area, but there is also a bedroom in the back, and a full bath. The loft overhead was used mostly for storage, but could easily be an office or a second bedroom. I’d like to add on to the back, make the bedroom bigger, and expand the kitchen. I’d probably go ahead and extend the upper level out as well, make a full bedroom out of it and leave the front of the loft as an office.”

  “But you haven’t given it any thought,” she said with a dry smile, making a gesture with her hand, holding her finger and thumb close together. “Wee bit maybe.”

  His smile spread to a grin. “Maybe. Come on, you need to get out to get the full star show.” The dark had grown deep enough now for the stars to really start twinkling into view.

  They climbed out and Sunny immediately gasped and pointed upward. “Oh my goodness. You can see—that’s the Milky Way.”

  “It is indeed,” he said, looking at her, not at the stars.

  “It’s like a streak across the heavens, saturated with stars. That’s . . . spectacular. I could lie on a blanket out here all night. The meteor showers would put on a spectacular show.” She turned to him, animated and more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. “Did you come up here in August for the Perseids?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but turned her attention skyward again.

  He watched her watching the sky and thought her reaction was, in a word . . . perfect. He hadn’t realized until that moment just how much of his heart he’d already invested in this place. It was only when he’d waited for her reaction and realized a part of him really wanted her to see it as he did, that he understood how much it had come to mean to him. Not that he needed her or anyone to validate his attraction to the place, he had no doubts there, but to just . . . to have someone share the excitement he felt.

  It might have been her spontaneous response, her immediate understanding of why this spot moved him as it did. Or maybe it was how the moonlight danced in her eyes when she turned to him, her face alight with wonder. Probably it was all of that, and everything else that had been building up since Doyle had unwittingly sent their orbits on a collision course. But he didn’t stop to think about any of that right then, much less question it. His actions in that moment weren’t premeditated, or . . . anything really, but driven by an instinct he’d long since been trained to follow without question. It had saved his life many times over.

  And when he reached for her, pulled her into his arms, and tipped her mouth up to his, lowered his lips to hers, and felt, heard, and tasted her sigh in pleasure and what sounded a lot like relief . . . he felt he’d saved himself all over again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Being kissed by Sawyer Hartwell wasn’t at all the way she’d dreamed it would be. And yes, she’d dreamed. Hot, sweaty, passionate dreams where the kisses were savage, leading right to clothes being torn, buttons sent flying, panties left in tatters. She’d expected him to be all soldier-on-a-mission, one where victory was determined by how quickly he could ratchet her up, then drive her straight over the edge.

  She supposed she should have known Mr. Master Sergeant Special Forces would be far, far stealthier than that. And with his stealth, wreak far greater havoc on her body . . . and quite shockingly, her heart.

  He laid claim; let there be no doubt about that. He was confident, but not forceful, skilled but not overly practiced, but his most decimating talent was that he paid attention . . . such close, close attention. If she gasped, he heard
it, repeated what had caused it. If she sighed and parted her lips, he didn’t immediately dive in. No, he made her sigh again, then again, until she was seeking his tongue, inviting him inside, all but begging his entry. If she relaxed into him, just a little maybe, he eased himself around her, steadying her, supporting her, inviting her to simply let go and don’t you worry . . . I’ll take care of the rest.

  And oh . . . did he.

  She wanted to be more in control, or at least share some part of deciding how this was going to go, where it was going to lead. But she was basically clinging to him, too busy being swept along on every ripple of sensation, shivering with ever-heightening awareness, moaning softly as he continued to explore her mouth like he’d discovered one of the Seven Wonders of the World. The pleasure she felt was intoxicating and all consuming. And they were just kissing.

  He framed her face with those broad, strong palms of his, and angled her mouth so he could claim every last part of it. She was whimpering now, wanting his hands pressed to far more feverish places, exploring them the way his tongue was exploring the recesses of her mouth. As if reading her mind, and at this point, she was fairly convinced they were kinetically connected, he slid his hands to her shoulders, then down her arms. It wasn’t until he lifted his head and gently set her a step back that she dazedly realized she’d all but entwined herself around him.

  Feeling suddenly embarrassed by her very atypical display of clinging, wanton neediness she quickly lifted one hand to smooth her hair and the other to dry her damp lips. She turned away from him in hopes of gathering whatever remnants of her dignity might remain, only he caught her hand and gently tugged her back close. So close she had to look straight up to make eye contact. So close their bodies brushed, which only served to ignite her response to him like a match to fresh tinder. She tried to look away, to step back, but he kept her right there.

  “We were both in it,” he said quietly, speaking barely above a gruff whisper. He might as well have been stroking her skin with his tongue the way his words reverberated so clearly, so sharply inside of her. “Hell, you’ve been doing that to me since almost the moment I met you.”

  She realized when he broke off just how silent the air was. The absolute quiet was almost deafening in the complete absence of sound. No birds, no frogs . . . it was as if the universe had lifted its finger to its lips and shushed every living thing. Even the breeze had stilled. Rather than make her feel alone or isolated, she felt wrapped up in it like a cocoon, snug and at peace.

  If only. Every nerve ending she possessed was still in full riot mode.

  “Yes,” she finally said, hating to break the silence, to put any more energy into the air. “But I don’t normally go around—”

  He tipped her chin up then, and what breath she had left caught right in her chest. His eyes were so beautiful, the intensity she saw there so palpable, it made her throat go tight. “You might not normally, and I might not normally, but we just did. It was honest, and . . .” He trailed off, and then his handsome face split into a wild, sexy grin that made her heart stutter. “Hotter than the desert at high noon.” He laughed, and his eyes danced with merriment and not a little challenge. “There’s no shame in that, Sunny.”

  “No,” she said, taking it in, taking him in. And he was a lot to take in. “You—you’re right,” she said, then found herself just as suddenly smiling with him, and laughing. “It just went from zero to sixty like . . .” She trailed off, having no words for the effect he had on her.

  “Look,” he said suddenly, pointing up.

  She glanced skyward and saw the celestial trail of a shooting star. She hummed in approval. “Like a shooting star,” she murmured, more to herself, than to him. She didn’t really want to think about what they might have just started. Especially coming right on the heels of agreeing to keep things at the friendship level. The reasons for that quite rationally achieved decision hadn’t changed.

  Then he was shifting her around so he could pull her into his arms with her back against his chest. He wrapped big arms around her and she wrapped hers over his as they both looked skyward, watching the stars continue winking to life. Standing there like that, fitting so perfectly in the shelter of his body, her head tipped back against his shoulder, felt too good, too delicious, to resist. So, for a moment anyway, she didn’t. She relaxed and took in his warmth, breathed in the scent of his soap, of his freshly laundered shirt . . . of Sawyer.

  She wasn’t used to being with someone who was so much taller than she, so much bigger. If the quiet had made her feel cocooned, being held by him only amplified that sense further. He made her feel safe, cared for . . . cosseted. And she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t a long-buried part of her that had yearned to feel that way for as long as she could remember. It was all the more soothing because she was no longer a child wanting to be held by her parent, and he wasn’t offering simply an innocent hug or a comforting kiss to the cheek.

  She didn’t honestly know what he was offering her, but for that moment, this was far more than she’d anticipated ever having. She could have stood there, just like that, for as long as her legs were able. And at the same time, she wanted to squirm right out of her clothes and beg him to put his hands on her almost as badly as she wanted her next breath.

  She was so damn confused and turned on and . . . confused.

  “It can just be this,” he said, once again dipping in to her thoughts.

  She realized it was probably because his mind had followed a similar path. It was comforting to know she wasn’t alone and, at the same time, made it that much harder to do what she knew—what they both knew—they had to do. “That would be the wise course of action,” she agreed.

  He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck, making her moan softly and instantly tip her chin to the side, allowing him greater access. “And this,” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Definitely this.”

  He nudged her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck, which sent little sparks of pulsing heat racing down her spine.

  She felt him grin against her skin. “Sweet spot.”

  “Maybe,” she managed, then immediately shivered in pleasure when he grazed his teeth over the same place.

  He turned her to face him, said, “Hold on,” then hiked her body up against his and held her there as if she was a featherweight, which she most definitely was not. He clamped one strong arm around her hips and used his free hand to release the catch on the tailgate at the foot of the truck.

  It squealed and thumped down flat, making her cringe and laugh at the same time. “Sawyer—”

  “It’s dusty, but nothing that won’t wash out,” he said as he sat her on the lowered gate, then stepped into the vee of her legs, urging her to snug them around his thighs.

  She’d like to say she took a moment to contemplate the wisdom of letting this go even a fraction further, but he was already leaning down to kiss her again and her arms were already so conveniently around his neck. Somehow her fingers found their way into the hair at the nape of his neck, and then his lips were once again a breath away from hers.

  “Just this once,” he murmured, almost more to himself than to her.

  “Mmm,” she agreed, her lips brushing his.

  Then he was opening her mouth again, and it felt like her entire body was opening up to him when she took him inside. His fingers dug into her hips as he tugged her closer, and she gasped when the rigid result of all this foreplay pressed quite intently against the part of her that wanted it most. She curled her heels around the back of his thighs and kissed him back. Now it was his turn to groan and she felt his blunt fingertips dig almost reflexively into the softness of her hips as he struggled with the same wants and desires that were flooding every fiber of her being, begging her to give in to their demands. Everything they wanted was right there for the taking, for the having. Oh, she wanted to have him. Every broad shouldered, bunched bicep, rock hard and rigid inch of him.

/>   There was a moment when she thought Just take this, do this, have this—have him—then you’ll be over it and you can stop wondering. No harm, no foul.

  Then she made the mistake of opening her eyes when he lifted his head to take a breath and found him looking so intently at her, all the same turmoil she was struggling with clearly there in his eyes for her to see. Perversely, it was his struggle, not hers, that snapped her back to reality. She leaned back just enough to hold his gaze more directly, then let her legs relax and her heels swing down again. “I don’t know if I can do this just once,” she said, as baldly honest as she’d ever been.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice a sexy rumble now that made her curl her fingers inward to keep from grabbing him and pulling him right back where he’d been moments ago. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  Dear sweet goodness, she ached with wanting him, an ache made all the more painful for knowing he wanted the same damn thing and every bit as badly as she did.

  “Sunny—”

  “It’s not just because of Bailey,” she said quickly, before she caved, and took him with her. “Or my life being three hours and a hundred plus miles away from here. It’s that I finally have the chance to go after what I want. And you’re here doing the exact same thing. We’re in a good place in life, each of us. So good.” She pushed her hair from her face, her cheeks still heated, her lips feeling the effects of his kisses. “This is exciting and thrilling, and not a little intoxicating, but—”

  “You don’t gamble away the good for the momentary thrill,” he finished for her.

  She nodded, then let out a laugh that wasn’t entirely a happy one. “And the fact that you keep getting inside my head and thinking exactly the same thing I’m thinking isn’t helping.”