Rocky Mountain Wedding (5 page)

Ruby looked at Sawyer with sadness muting her eyes. This was what she'd worried about. Why she hadn't wanted to tell her about the baby yet. They hadn't been able to make the adoption official, and he had a feeling Brookie wouldn't feel secure until they did. That was the worst part about it. Damn. He had to call the social worker again. See if they could move things up. He didn't know what to say anymore…

“To Brookie!” Mom said, raising her glass and saving the whole mood of the party. She squeezed the girl's hand. “We're so happy you're part of our family now.”

A shadow of a smile crept across Brookie's lips as everyone raised their glasses.

“To Brookie!”

Sawyer silently thanked his mother with a smile. Brookie might doubt now, but someday she would know. She would feel connected, and her whole identity would be rooted in something bigger.

As long as they had this community—this family—they could make it through anything.

Y
ou don't have to stay, you know,” Ruby said, fully aware that the comfort of snuggling up with Sawyer on the couch robbed the words of any real conviction. The yawn that broke through clearly revealed she never wanted him to leave. “Shouldn't you be out partying to celebrate your last weekend of bachelorhood?”

“Screw bachelorhood,” Sawyer said, massaging her shoulder. “This is where I want to be.”

Yes. Her, too. They were sitting in her living room—the living room that would be officially
theirs
in just two more days. And it was so cozy and lovely. Almost indulgent. Something out of a dream. After they'd put Brookie to bed, Sawyer had built a fire. It crackled inside the charming brick hearth, painting the room with a tranquil glow that somehow caressed away the tension from the scene at dinner. Ruby burrowed even closer to Sawyer's solid shoulder, though it was difficult to scooch her lower body right up against his, what with Nellie the wonder dog wedged between them.

“Thanks for driving us home.” After everything that had happened at dinner, Sawyer had wanted to get Brookie tucked in so he could make sure she was okay. The poor girl had been so quiet on the ride home. So withdrawn. Though they'd tried to coax out her feelings with the questions they'd learned in their training, she kept insisting that she was simply tired and wanted to go to bed.

Ruby hoped that was the case. It sure hadn't taken Brookie long to fall asleep.

“Oh, by the way, I'm staying all night,” Sawyer said in his
don't argue
tone. “Need to keep an eye on you. You weren't feeling good earlier.”

As if she needed a reminder. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of that special meeting with his parents. “I can't believe I threw up in front of James and Marybeth Hawkins.” They were the picture of sophistication and class.

“They've already forgotten all about it,” he insisted.

She laughed. “Right. They'll never forget that introduction.” She sure wouldn't.

“They love you,” he murmured in her ear. “Because I love you.”

She rested her head against his chest, feeling his heart beat right into hers. “I love you, too.” That was what grounded her now, what kept her steady. Love. She prayed it was enough. For him. For Brookie. For the baby. She might not be able to fix everything in their lives, but she wanted to love them all well.

Still, if the scene at dinner was any indication, this was going to be a long road with Brookie.

Fatigue pulled at her eyelids. “Are we crazy, Sawyer?”

He stretched his neck to peer down at her, those blue eyes focused and intense. “What'd you mean?”

“I mean jumping into all of this so fast. We'll have two kids.” The thought was so foreign. Six months ago, she never thought she'd even have one child…

“We're not crazy,” he said, pulling her in tighter. “We're brave.”

That's what he'd taught her. How to be brave. And as long as they were together, she could do it—anything, whatever it took. She held her breath, wanting to feel only the solidness of his body against hers. The strength. The love. That was real. That bond was real.

Sawyer touched his lips to the ridge of her ear, prying a soft sigh from her mouth. Goose bumps spread across her right side, pricking her body with that delicious anticipation only he could tease out of her.

“This is what life is about, Ruby. This is what matters.” His warm breath grazed her eardrum. “You and Brookie and the baby are what matter to me.”

His lips slipped down her neck, to the base of her jaw, where his tongue grazed her skin, and she should've been prepared, but every time he kissed her that way—all passionate and indulgent—it hit like a shock, causing a wave of pleasure to ripple down her stomach, then back up again until she wanted nothing more than to be pressed against him, clinging to him while they made love…

With a disgruntled sniff, Nellie stood and shook herself, sighing as if to say
not again
.

Ruby laughed. The dog was like a teenager who got grossed out every time Mom and Dad started to get frisky.

Without a glance back, Nellie pranced down the hall, presumably heading for the princess doggy bed Brookie had moved into her room.

“Come on.” Sawyer scooted himself off the couch and took her hand in his, pulling her up against his body, his strong hands massaging her shoulders in the most sensual, inviting way. “After the day you've had, I think you could use a back rub.”

She could use more than a back rub, but she didn't need to tell him that. He knew her. Everything. Over the last couple of months, she'd held nothing back from him. And now, even the thought of his hands on her body was enough to send sparks of hunger dancing through her.

“It
was
a pretty tough day,” she agreed, following him to the bedroom. She hadn't felt so sick in a long time, but after she'd eaten something, all of a sudden, her stomach seemed to settle.

With a wicked grin, Sawyer turned and locked the bedroom door. “Which means you deserve some special treatment.” He slipped behind her and unzipped her dress, working his hands beneath the fabric to caress the tension from that vise grip that had claimed her spine.

Her head fell forward as his hands worked her weary muscles over, digging in and kneading.

With each touch, everything in her—all of the worry and tension softened into peace. She was still standing, but she might as well have been floating.

Leaning close, Sawyer kissed her neck while his fingers unclasped her bra. Then he spread his hands over her skin, cleverly brushing her dress and bra straps over her shoulders so that her clothes fell away from her body.

“Feeling better now?” he murmured against her neck while his hands skimmed her lower back, climbing their way down to her underwear.

“So much better,” she whispered, shuddering in rapture at the way his hands knew her body.

“God, I never thought you could get any sexier,” Sawyer said, tugging down her silk undies. “Then you got pregnant.” He slipped in front of her and ran his hands over the small swell of her belly, circling his fingers around her belly button. “I love you so much, baby.” His hands moved to her bare hips and tugged her closer, which gave her the perfect opportunity to start undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“I love you, too, Officer Hawkins,” she teased, continuing her way down the buttons until she could tear the thing off of his shoulders. His chest. Oh, mercy, his chest. Tossing the shirt aside, she pressed her palms against the hard muscles, moving them over the dents and bends.

Heavy breaths broadened his shoulders, and she loved seeing that look on his face, the one that proved she could seduce him, too. She loved the hard beat of his heart beneath her palm, the feel of his erection pressing against his jeans.

“I love your body,” she said, in case she hadn't already made that clear. Lifting her lips to his neck, she climbed her way up to his ear. “You know what else I love?” she murmured, undoing his pants and shoving them down.

His breath hitched. “What?”

“Making love to you.” She slipped her hand into his and pulled him toward the bed.

He stepped out of his pants and left them behind. “You're amazing,” he breathed against her lips. Then he tilted up her chin and kissed her mouth in a teasing preview. The heat of his tongue, the strong grip of his hands against the back of her head, anchored her in that moment, stilling her in the sea of stress and worries that'd had her floundering all day. The intimate connection carried her away from everything else until it was only the two of them breathing, kissing, touching.

“How long has it been?” he whispered in her ear before nipping his way down her neck and over her breasts, grazing his tongue across her skin. “It feels like forever since I kissed these.”

A titillating shiver overtook her. She threaded her fingers into that beautiful mess of thick dark hair. “I believe it's been…” Her lungs caught.
Ohhhh…
She swore his tongue possessed some sort of magic. “Two days since you came over for lunch.”

He grinned, hugging her against him. “That was the best lunch ever.”

“The best until the next lunch,” she promised, pushing him down to the mattress. He caught her hand and pulled her with him.

They hit the bed, bodies tangled together, and he rolled onto his side next to her, sliding his hand up her thigh, then higher until her entire lower half was clenched with want. His fingers danced over her hip bones in long, teasing strokes.

She let her head fall to the pillow, feeling that anticipation mount into a seductive pressure that pulsed through her. “I need you,” she breathed. “God, Sawyer, I need you.”

His wet mouth kissed her neck while the heel of his hand parted her legs until his fingers stretched into her. She moaned as he fingered her center, unleashing the sensations that made her hands grab at the sheets.

“Mmmm,” he murmured, obviously fascinated by watching her lose herself in the ecstasy of his touch. But as much as he enjoyed turning her on, she had other plans. Shifting, she turned on her side and swung her leg over his waist so she could stroke him.

“Oh,” he sighed, shoulders going limp as she thoroughly rubbed both hands up and down the length of his stretched flesh. He convulsed against her, straining his hips closer.

“Come here,” he growled, his hands gripping her hips and guiding her over his body.

She straddled him, clasped their hands together, and pinned his against the mattress, leaning over to kiss him. And maybe to torture him just a little.

He groaned, lifting his head to kiss her breasts. But that wasn't enough. Not even close. He'd already pulled her body taut—pushing her right to the edge—and there was only one thing that could finish her, that could satisfy the craving he'd stirred up inside of her.

Moving her body down onto his, she hitched her hips and his thrust met hers. The feel of him sliding so deep into her released a cry of pleasure from her lips. Eyes wide, she pressed a hand over her mouth. Unlike their little lunchtime rendezvous, they had to be quiet.

“I love that sound,” Sawyer whispered, lifting his hips until she rode him, each thrust so hard and fast that the friction heated her core. She bit down on her lip to keep quiet, but a moan of pleasure snuck out. She couldn't help it. Sawyer made it very, very, very hard to stay quiet.

His hands clasped hers as he kept their rhythm, the one they'd found together. The one that made her heart pound and her lungs burn and her body let go.

Oh God, she loved how he made her let go.

Thrusting her body higher, he grunted her name, and that was it; she couldn't hold on. She arched her back, pressing into him at an angle that broke her apart. Pleasure surged, wave after wave, rendering the rest of her body useless. She collapsed over Sawyer and buried her face in a pillow so she could cry out the way her release demanded.

He came right behind her, locking her tight in his arms, body thrashing beneath hers, a low moan radiating from his throat.

She tried to move, to let him breathe, but her body had been encased in a lovely, lazy warmth that made everything too heavy.

He shimmied to his side and settled her against him, kissing her temple, then wrapping his arms all the way around her so that his hands met at her belly.

“You'll always be enough for me, Ruby,” he said, resting his cheek against hers. She snuggled in closer, believing again that everything would work out, that they could manage whatever came their way.

They would always be enough together.

Someone was screaming.

Sawyer bolted upright in bed, heart tumbling like a boulder down a rock wall. Was it a dream? He held his breath.

“Sawyer! Oh God!” Ruby screamed from someplace distant and muffled.

Not a dream. The sound of her fear gripped him. He shot off the bed and tore out of the room, nearly colliding with Ruby in the doorway.

“She's gone,” she wheezed, then bent over as though she'd been running. “Brookie is gone.”

“No.” That was crazy. She wasn't gone. She couldn't be gone. He'd checked on her at one o'clock this morning and she'd been peacefully sleeping in her bed. He took Ruby's shoulders in his hands to settle her. Getting worked up like this couldn't be good for the baby. “She's here somewhere,” he said, choking back his panic. She had to be here. “She probably went next door to Aunt Elsie's for doughnuts.”

But Ruby's head shook. Tears streaked her cheeks. Her body shuddered. “I just called. Elsie hasn't seen her this morning.”

His field of vision shrank. All he could see was Ruby's face, pale and terrified. “She took Nellie for a walk, then,” he wheezed. Panic throbbed in his heart.

“I found Nellie curled up by the front door,” she sobbed. “It was unlocked, Sawyer. And her coat is gone.”

The room turned into a narrow tunnel. He stumbled around Ruby and jogged to Brookie's bedroom. Everything was neat and girly. The frilly white bedspread. The purple paint and flowery curtains she and Ruby had picked out one month ago.

He walked around, noting the details. Her pajamas were piled neatly on the bed. The coat that usually hung in her closet was gone. His pulse screamed in his ears as he ran back to the living room, passing Ruby and charging out the front door. Her bike had been propped up against the front porch last night…

Gripping the railing, he tripped down the steps, unable to find his footing.

It was gone. Which meant no one had come in and taken her. She'd left on her own.

“Ruby! Sawyer!” Aunt Elsie ran toward him, still in her bathrobe. “Did you find Brookie? Is she okay?”

“She ran away,” he said, the shock of it rooting him to the ground. He couldn't move, couldn't turn back to face the brokenness on Ruby's face. How could she walk away from them?