Page 79 of Wayward Souls
I growled, the sound primal and deep in my chest.
She ducked and spun, escaping my arms, making a dash for the driver’s door, her laughter lifting bright and high.
She didn’t get three steps before I caught her, my arms around her waist. She lunged, and I lifted, bringing her just off her feet as I pulled her back, until she was pressed fully against me.
“No hotels,” I rumbled against the side of her neck.
“But the truck is—”
“Fine. The truck is fine. And it’s going to be even better when you’re in it.” I lifted her again, up to her tiptoes. She made a soft sound that sent a shiver through me as she relaxed and molded her body against mine.
Her hands fell on my arms, tapping, asking, squeezing, and I released my hold.
She spun and draped her arms around my neck. “Promises, promises.”
“I am a man of my word, Mrs. Gauge.”
I bent until my forehead was resting against hers. “I love you.”
“I love you,” she said. “And if you don’t get in the back of that truck right this second, I am going to drag you there.”
I huffed out a laugh, my fingers sliding down into the back pockets of her jeans. “I was trying to take it slow.”
“Don’t need slow. Don’t want slow. I want you. Now. So get your fine ass up into that truck, and be a man of your word, Mr. Gauge.”
I pulled my hands out of her pockets, planted my palms on her hips, and guided her back to the tailgate. She pulled the latch and opened it. I absently noted the beautiful strips of dark wood planks held in place by low-set metal dividers that made up the truck bed before I scooped Lu up off her feet.
She gave a short shriek that fell into bubbling laughter.
“What are you doing?” she asked, still giggling.
“Never got to do this on our wedding night,” I murmured. Because we hadn’t had a wedding night. Not one recognized by churches or law.
It took some strength, but I am a big man. I got one knee up on the tailgate, shifted my grip so I could free one hand for the side, and carried Lula up over the threshold of that old Chevy C10.
Her laughter had stopped. Now the only sound was her breath, a little halting, and the creak of the old springs as the truck took our weight.
“Lu?” I said, the hitches in her breathing worrying me. I stopped on my knees, there at the end of the bed, and gently lowered her down in my arms. “Are you all right, love?”
The tears on her face were a surprise, but the smile even more so. “You damn romantic. Look what you made me do.” She sniffed hard, then wriggled one hand free and scrubbed at her eyes and cheeks.
Her face was splotchy, nose rubbed red.
She was the most beautiful thing in the universe.
“I got you,” I said, “and I’m never letting you go, no matter what we have to face. We face it together.”
She nodded and took one full breath before letting it out. “Brogan?”
“Yes, love?”
“I can hear your heartbeat.”
And oh, how she smiled.
“Is that so? What is it saying?”
“You want to kiss me.”
“Oh, I’m going to kiss you until you forget every other kiss in your life.” I lowered her to the smooth truck bed, the dappling of sunlight through leaves painting her in a mosaic of light and shadow, her hair a slash of plaited red falling over her shoulder.
I paused there above her, savoring the smell of honey and roses on her skin, the wonder of her soft smile. Sunlight edged her eyelashes in copper as she raised one eyebrow.
“Well?” she asked, reaching for me, catching at my hips and dragging fingertips down my thighs, then back up again. “What are you waiting for? Do you think we have all the time in the world?”
“Yes,” I said, my whole heart and soul filling that one word. “I think we do.”
