Hero for the Holidays (Four Corners Ranch #9)

Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

F IA DROVE L ANDRY and Lila back to his place. Now he just needed to get Lila to scurry up the stairs so he and Fia could sneak down to the old cabin. They could probably do this in the bedroom. The house was probably reasonably soundproof.

He appreciated the nostalgia of the cabin, though. And the practicality of it. Because while he was pretty sure the sound wouldn’t travel from that room over to Lila’s... He also had no idea how intense this was going to be. For the first time in weeks, the biggest thing on his mind wasn’t the stress of fatherhood. The joy of it. The intensity of it. For the first time, everything was Fia. His need for her obscuring everything else.

Fia was invited upstairs first, though, to help feed Gort crickets, which he had to admit was an amusing pursuit. The little leopard gecko always wiggled its tail before it shot across the cage to grab a cricket, and seeing such a tiny predator in action was always entertaining.

“If Gort was alligator sized he would definitely eat you,” he said to Lila.

“No. He wouldn’t. But he would eat my enemies.”

“Woe unto your enemies, Lila Gates.” He patted her head.

And then he and Fia made their way downstairs. “Lila,” he called out, “I’m just going to head over to the farmhouse for a bit.”

“Okay,” she said.

Fia looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He shrugged.

These were the kinds of innocuous lies you had to tell kids for their own good sometimes, he figured. Because he couldn’t say “I’m about to go bang your mother until neither of us can breathe.” No. You couldn’t say that. That was emotional trauma. That was psychological damage that no one was going to recover from anytime soon. It just didn’t need to happen. So a little white lie was the best thing here, as far as he was concerned. They walked out of the house and down the front steps. And then, on impulse, he grabbed Fia’s hand. And ran. She ran with him, clutching his hand, the desperate need to make it to the cabin as quickly as possible powering them both.

And when they arrived in front of the cabin, they stopped, and he looked down at her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. He cupped her face and wiped them away. “What did I do to make you cry?”

It had been such a common thing when they were teenagers. Her tears had been his fault far too many times.

“Nothing. It’s... Nothing is this, is it?”

He shook his head. “No.”

And then, beneath the clear sky, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her.

But this time he knew that they weren’t going to stop. This time he knew that Fia Sullivan was going to be his.

He enveloped her body, kissing her deep and long, sliding his tongue against hers. She tasted so familiar, and new all at once. She was everything. All of his memories, sweet and bitter rolled into one. She tasted like heartbreak and first love. She tasted like cotton candy. So sweet against his tongue. Like possibility and failure. Like hope and triumph.

Like regret. So much regret.

And he took it all in. He didn’t try to blunt any of it. Didn’t try to spare himself, didn’t try to block himself.

Not from this. Not from the intensity of it. Not from the truth of it. He had spent all this time telling himself that he hated her.

When it was just this poisoned love that he’d never quite been able to shake. But he knew that it wasn’t the kind that people built houses out of. Knew it wasn’t the kind they made families with. And on some level he always had. But he wanted her to rescue him. From himself. His own feelings. His own needs.

What a child he was.

He thought that wanting was enough. But of course it wasn’t. Tonight, it would be, though. Tonight, wanting, needing, craving was all there was going to be.

He shifted his hold on her, felt the luscious press of her breasts against his chest.

He ached for her.

An ache that spanned thirteen years. An ache unfulfilled. Because sex had never been anything unless it was with her.

Because desire had never been more than a flicker unless she was the cause of it. The source.

Then he propelled them both into the cabin, closing the door behind them. That old bed that was still in the corner, and even if the place was a bit dusty, it was good enough for him.

He held her tightly and then smoothed his hands down her waist, her hips. Suddenly, it hit him. She had carried a child in the years since he’d been with her. It had changed her body. Changed the shape of her profoundly.

Reverence, awe, need welled up within him.

He pushed her shirt up over her head.

He lit the camping lantern so that he could see, because God knew he wasn’t going to have Fia Sullivan naked under his hands without being able to see clearly. There were faint silvery lines on her stomach, and he fell to his knees, kissing them, moving his thumb over them. There was nothing to say. He looked up—her eyes were closed, her expression pained.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “More beautiful than I remember.”

“I’m definitely not a teenager anymore,” she whispered. “There’s been some wear and tear.”

“I’m not a teenager anymore either. And I don’t need you to be unmarked by these years. That part of you. Part of your story. Part of our story. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He went back up onto his feet and unhooked her bra, casting it to the side. He let out a curse, short and swift. She was everything he could’ve wanted.

She had been shaped by the years into just the kind of woman he craved. Because it was her. Always her.

With her pale skin, freckles on her breasts, silvery stretch marks.

She was absolutely perfect. Absolutely awe-inspiring.

He undid the snap on her jeans, then the zipper, pushing them down her legs as she kicked her shoes off, and he managed to take off every stitch of clothing.

She was naked in front of him, that red triangle of curls between her legs a glory he had never thought he’d see again.

He moved to her, cupped her breast, smoothed his thumb over her nipple, and she gasped. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst through his chest. He had nothing. Absolutely nothing inside of him. No thought, no speech. It was like being before a transcendent work of art. It made him question his own humanity in the face of it. His own significance.

Because she was Fia Sullivan, and she was everything. Because she was the most beautiful woman on God’s earth.

And that was the truest damn thing.

Because she was everything. Absolutely everything. He kissed her mouth again, her neck, as he continued to move his hands over her curves.

Luxuriating in the feel of her.

“You are perfect,” he whispered.

“Landry,” she whispered against his mouth. “Take your clothes off.”

He moved away from her and gripped the back of his shirt, pulling it up over his head.

Fia’s eyes went wide.

“Damn,” she said. His lips curved into a smile, and he kicked his boots off as he undid his belt. As he took off his jeans and underwear.

And he could see that reflected appreciation in her own eyes.

It was a wonder. A damned miracle. Perfect for each other at every age, he supposed.

And this, whatever it was, would fuel his fantasies from now on.

She had already ruined him for everything and everyone else.

So this would just make it complete. This would just make it more profound. He was all right with it. He really was.

But it wasn’t just desire, there was an emotion swelling up between them that he knew they both felt. Because it was like another person standing in the room. As obvious and present as either of them.

He reached out and cupped her face. “Fia...” He moved his thumb over her bottom lip. Words failed him. There was nothing he could say. She was the woman who he had hurt the deepest of anyone in his life. She was also the woman he had cared more about than anyone in this world.

He had failed her.

In that way, he was like his father. He had a chance to be good. To love her the way that she needed, and when given that chance he hadn’t listened. When given that chance he had failed. When given that chance, he had been nothing but selfish, extraordinarily so. And there were no words for that. There was nothing but this deep groaning in his spirit. Another strange thing he was sure that he heard in a sermon, and he didn’t know why in hell church was on his mind now. Except that this was spiritual. Not just physical. Except that his soul was sure as hell involved if there was such a thing, and the divine felt present now more than it ever had.

He wanted to tell her that he was sorry. He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for her forgiveness. He’d asked for it several times over the last few weeks. What he felt now... It was more than sorry. It was sorrow. For the way that he had failed to be there. For the way that he had absolutely lived up to the King family name.

He wanted that name to mean more. He wanted it to mean better. But they couldn’t just want that. They all had to be it. Including him.

Now though, he couldn’t find words. Now though, he had nothing but the deep, intense need to be closer to her. So that was what he did. Kissed her. Until there was nothing but them.

He kissed them both firmly into the present. And even though the past was still there with them, it wasn’t the biggest thing. The memories weren’t the most important thing. Weren’t the most vivid. The brightest thing was her mouth on his. Her soft, naked body pressed against his.

“I stole a condom from Denver,” he whispered against her mouth.

“What?”

“I don’t just have them lying around,” he said.

She laughed. “Oh. I’m... I’m on the pill.”

It was just very basic of him that he was thrilled to hear that. Because he wanted to slide inside of her with nothing between them. With no barrier. He already knew that Fia hadn’t been with anyone, and he had been with very few people, and not for a couple of years. He let out a long breath. “Well, that’s good enough for me if it is for you,” he said.

“It is,” she said. “But thank you. For thinking of me. Thank you for protecting me.”

“Of course.”

There was no of course about it. Because he hadn’t done it back then. In so many ways. He just hadn’t fucking done it.

He kissed her again, then and there, then picked her up and set her down in the little bed in the corner.

He parted her thighs and kissed his way up her leg, pausing at the tender skin of her instep, her knee, right up by the center of her desire.

“Landry,” she gasped.

Then he nuzzled those curl and licked into her damp heat. She gasped, holding his head as he started to taste her.

He remembered this. The best thing. Intoxicating and wonderful and all he’d ever craved back then.

That glorious honey between Fia Sullivan’s thighs.

She’d been his first.

And she was the only one who had ever mattered.

He tasted her now, knowing that. Reveling in that truth.

She gasped as he moved his thumb over that sensitive bundle of nerves and then down her slick crease, pushing it deep inside of her. And then trading it for two fingers.

“Landry,” she gasped again, gripping his head, then his shoulders, her fingernails digging ruthlessly into his skin.

He still remembered. Just where to lick her. Just how to suck her. With them, it had always been something that transcended experience. He had a sense for her body, just like she’d had a sense for his.

It had never felt like two kids getting into trouble, not to them. It had always felt like more. It had always felt like everything. Just damned everything. And it did now too.

She was sweet and slick and perfect beneath his tongue, and he pumped his fingers in and out of her willing body, until she shivered and shook, until she cried out his name and her fingernails drew blood on his shoulders. His name was a prayer on her lips, and it was balm for his soul. Balm he hadn’t realized he needed. A triumph he hadn’t realized he been missing.

It was like a piece of himself had finally come back home.

Because Fia Sullivan was saying his name in the throes of ecstasy, and there would never be anything as great as that.

He moved up her body, kissed her hip bone, her stomach, both of her breasts, before sucking a nipple into his mouth again, until she arched up off the mattress. Then he moved back to her lips, rubbing his nose against hers before kissing her deeply.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him forward. The head of his arousal pressed against her tight opening, and he began to sink into her.

A lump caught in his throat, along with driving, inexorable need.

Home.

All he could think was that he hadn’t been home for thirteen years. And here he was. Inside of her.

Her arms, her legs, her soul wrapped around his.

“Fia,” he whispered against her lips.

And then he began to move, driving them both toward the brink. Filling them both with pleasure.

And something beyond that. Something bigger. Bigger than everything.

He flexed his hips forward, and she gasped, and he did it again, and again, his movements becoming hard, intense.

“I need you,” he spoke against her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered.

There was nothing but the sound of their need. Skin on skin, their raging heartbeats. Mingled breaths.

Her fingernails drawing blood on his forearms.

He wanted it to hurt. As much as he wanted to feel good. He wanted to be torn in two by this endless, yawning need inside of him. Oh, how he wanted it.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

He growled, driving his hips forward.

“Oh, Landry,” she said.

And when she clung to him, crying out her climax, her internal muscles gripping him tight, he lost himself. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and poured himself inside of her. His orgasm a roar, echoing in his head. Thirteen years of need coalescing just then. Into this endless glory.

“Fia,” he whispered against her neck.

“That was amazing,” she said.

He pulled her against him, overwhelmed. Overcome.

He wasn’t a man who gave a lot of thought to his emotions. At least, he hadn’t over the past few years. By design, really. Because all of his emotions had been pretty toxic. And had he looked too closely at himself he would’ve seen his father a long time ago.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You said that.”

“But I really feel it,” he said. “The way that I... The way that I broke what we had.”

“I think what we had broke because it was crushed beneath the weight of something that was too big for either of us. The thing is, I can’t hate you for handling something wrong when you were seventeen, because if I think we were too immature to be parents then I guess I have to admit we were too young to handle our relationship with each other too.”

“But that isn’t an excuse for what I did...”

“We can keep going over and over all of it,” she said, tracing lines by his eyes, down the side of his mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking where your face has aged.”

He laughed. “I think most of it is from the last few weeks.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. We’ve lived in the past for a long time. Let’s stop.”

“That easy?”

“No. But the past just isn’t as important as where we are now.”

He let out a loud sigh, and he kissed her forehead. “This is perfect.”

“It is,” she said softly.

And there was something, something expanding in his chest. Feelings, words. But he knew he couldn’t say them in an empty fashion. He was cautious about it. Because his father had used words of deep emotion to manipulate the people around him. He had never hesitated to say that he loved his wife. That he loved his kids. All while demonstrating something completely different, and that was the kind of boyfriend Landry had been back then.

He would never use empty words. Not again.

He would make sure that he showed them good and well first. He would make sure that he really knew what he wanted. Because he didn’t trust himself. That was the thing. How could he? How could he after the bullshit he pulled?

Fia snuggled against him, and he held her. Let himself doze for about twenty minutes. “I’ve got to get back,” he said.

“Yeah.”

It felt wrong. To part from each other. To have Fia sleeping in a different house than himself and Lila. It just felt wrong. But it was where they were at right now. And it was what they had.

So he walked back with her, holding hands, walked her to her car and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”

He turned and went in the house, and he felt a restless ache inside of him. Then he opened the computer that was sitting on the table and searched for the name of the shelter that Fia had mentioned the dog Sunday had gone to. There was a contact form. And he wrote in it, trying to explain the situation. That he knew it had been a year, but if they could trace the whereabouts of Sunday, and if they could give him the info, that Lila, the dog’s former owner, just wanted to know she was okay and happy. And that if she was still looking for a home, she would have one with them.

He sent it and closed the computer.

He heard footsteps on the stairs. “Hey, Landry,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Something wrong?”

“I just think... I think it’s weird to not live with both you and Fia.”

He gritted his teeth. “Yeah. It is.”

“Listen, I know that you aren’t a couple, but it seems to me like this house or her house are big enough for us to all be together.”

She had no idea how complicated that was. The truth was, she was thirteen. They were getting a limited experience of parenting. And there were plenty of divorced couples who actually continued to live together, he did know that. People who kept intact households for their kids. “Well, maybe that’s something we can talk about.”

There was little more important to the Kings than King’s Crest. But he knew that the first thing he would have to do was offer to move to Sullivan’s Point. Because family names and all that... They didn’t matter. Hell, it hadn’t even been a conversation, as far as changing Lila’s name. Unless she asked to have a different last name, it was important to both him and Fia that they honored her parents. If they could be a family while including that. He could still be a King somewhere else. And he might just have to be.

“We will definitely talk about that tomorrow.”