One Bride for Four Ranchers

“The reasons you have—those are just the details. What I need to know—all I need to know—is do you want me as much as I want you?”

I look up and meet his intense gaze. Did I want Trey? Hell yes, I did. The problem is, I want all of them. It is greedy of me, selfish. But it is what it is. Plus... I’m pregnant with Clay’s child. It doesn’t get more complicated than that.

But in this moment, with Trey’s eyes on me, I agree with him. It’s all just details.

“I want you,” I admit. “I want you so much it scares me.”

That’s all Trey needs before pulling me into his arms.

His kiss is different from Clay’s, which honestly, is kind of a relief. I noticed it when we fooled around on the pool table, but I’m elated to find it true in the light of day. The passion is there, that’s for sure. But it’s more controlled. He takes command, sweeping his tongue between my lips in a way that brooks no argument, that allows no recourse.

When he pulls back, we’re both breathless.

“Come with me,” he says. And before I can argue, before I can tell him I don’t want to go anywhere until he fulfills the promise of that kiss, he’s out of the truck.

I turn and open my door.

“Watch your step!” he calls from behind the truck.

I grimace. I’ll never live down falling into that stupid hole. Taking great care, I step out of the truck. Not a hole in sight.

“This way,” he murmurs, suddenly very close behind me. Close enough that I can feel the heat of his body against my back.

He’s carrying a blanket over one arm that he must’ve gotten from his toolbox when I was still the truck. With his free hand, he takes my hand and leads me away from the truck.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“It’s close,” he replies.

Hand in hand, we silently walk the rest of the way. He leads me to a small clearing that is only a couple of minutes walk away from where we parked the truck. My mouth drops open at the site. Gorgeous doesn’t cover it. It’s grassy with wildflowers dotting the landscape. Brush and trees block this little slice of heaven from sight. A person would have to stumble right on top of it in order to see anything going on inside.

It’s perfect.

“I always liked this spot. And it’s more private than the road.” He gives me a meaningful look, expression serious. “I’m not expecting anything, but I wanted to spend a little time with you alone. And this place just felt right.”

“It’s just lovely, Trey,” I say, squeezing his hand with mine. He leads me a little further into the clearing, before releasing my hand and spreading the blanket. It’s large enough for both of us to fit on it comfortably, and I shiver at the sight of it. Of what it could mean.

“If you’re not sure—” he starts, seeing my shiver. “Like I said, we can just talk.” His smile is almost boyish. “I’d be happy to spend an afternoon just talking to you.”

“No. I mean, yes. I’m sure.” And I am. My feelings for each of the Hollister brothers are complex. But why psychoanalyze it? In this moment, there is just me and Trey. And a passion between us that needs to be quenched.

“Good.” And then he kisses me.

/> If possible, his lips are even more commanding than they were in the truck. He takes my mouth without hesitation, without question. He pulls my body against his hard frame, and I melt against him.

Surrendering isn’t in my nature, but I want to surrender to him. His hands slide up and down my body, caressing, massaging, exploring.

I slide my hands up his muscular chest, exploring myself. His body is as hard as a rock, and I can feel his erection, even harder, pressing against my stomach.

Trey breaks our kiss again and steps back. His eyes locked on me, he and takes my T-shirt and pulls it off over my head. Then, with clever fingers, he undoes my bra and releases my breasts.

The breeze touches my skin, caressing. Above us, the sun shines down and warms me, keeping the breeze from being too cold. And under Trey’s gaze, my nipples tighten and harden. For a long moment he does nothing but look. And then he holds my face with both hands and kisses me softly.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips. “Even more stunning than I could have imagined.”

And in that moment, I feel as beautiful as I’ve ever felt. And it makes me wild for him.

Ignoring his protests about wanting to go slow, I yank his shirt off and toss it in the general direction of the blanket, not even caring if it makes there. His pants are next, and I kneel down to undo the button fly of his jeans and tug the zipper down. Then, careful not to catch his hardness, I tug down his pants and boxers.