Sunrise Canyon (New Americana 1)

After a pause, he turned back to face her. “There’s one more thing, Kira. I want an honest answer.”

Kira waited in the silence. Whatever Jake was about to say, she sensed, it was weighing heavily on him.

“You and me,” he said. “We’ve been playing these chicken games long enough. I need to know whether there’s anything more—anything that would give me a reason to stay.”

Kira’s pulse stuttered. She fumbled for words

—but words wouldn’t be enough. Jake needed more.

Looking into his shadowed eyes, she cupped his cheek with her hand, leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

She felt his breath catch. Then his arms went around her, crushing her close. The kiss warmed and deepened, drawing her into him. She ached with yearning, wanting the dark room, the soft bed and Jake loving her.

His fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt. She reached up to help him, wanting his intimate touch, his hands, his mouth....

“Something tells me we’re in the wrong place,” she murmured against his ear.

With a raw laugh, he caught her waist and swept her across the yard to his dark cabin.

* * *

Inside, with the door securely locked, they took up where they’d left off, their kisses hot and hungry, their hands seeking sweet, forbidden places. Kira’s blouse slipped to the floor, followed by her bra. The touch of his callused hands on her bare skin brought tears to her eyes. She moaned, arching against him, feeling his hard need against her hips. All she could think of was wanting more—wanting all of this strong, wounded man and what he could give her.

Her eager fingers tugged at his belt. With a mutter, he unhooked the buckle, unsnapped his jeans and let them drop to the floor, kicking off his boots as he stepped out of them.

Breathless in their haste, they left a trail of clothes across the tiled floor before they fell into bed, wrapped in each other’s arms.

His skin was cool, his flesh pitted with the scars of war—each one a memory of pain. Kira brushed them with tender fingertips. If only she could love that pain away, she thought. And then, as her body welcomed him home, her thoughts were lost in a burst of wonder. This was Jake—her antagonist, her friend, her soul mate. He was making love to her, healing her in the deepest way—perhaps healing himself as well. She gave in to the shimmering sensations, rode the swell to a soaring peak. She cried out, then drifted slowly back to earth.

Spent, they lay side by side. Kira nestled against him, listening as his breathing deepened and he fell asleep. Then, knowing she must, she eased away from him, pulled on her clothes and prepared to leave. For a moment, she stood looking down at him. She loved this man, loved what he’d given her. At this moment, she couldn’t have been happier. But for Kira, happiness held its own terrors.

The future loomed dark with uncertainty. Jake’s struggle to control his PTSD would likely last the rest of his life. But at least he had a chance—they had a chance, she reminded herself. For now, that would have to be enough.

* * *

The next morning, Jake was up with the students to make sure the stable was clean and the horses cared for before the trip to town. He could have easily done the job himself, but the youngsters had to learn that, even on a holiday, they couldn’t neglect their animals.

“Why can’t I stay here with you?” Mack cornered Jake outside his horse’s stall. “I’d rather help you work on the bike than go to a stupid old fiesta.”

“I have other jobs to do first,” Jake told him. “And anyway, you’re not here to work on motorcycles. You’re here to work with your horse and do things with your group. That’s what your parents paid for. So go and have fun.”

“That’s not fair!” Mack kicked at the side of the stall. “I never get to do what I want to!”

“You can help later, but only if you stop complaining. The world doesn’t revolve around what you want. The sooner you get used to that, the happier you’ll be.”

Jake shook his head as Mack stomped off to get his shovel. Had he boosted the boy’s self-esteem by letting him help with the motorcycle? Or had he just created one more demand? But that question was Kira’s department. She was the therapist, not him. Thank heaven.

He gave himself a moment to remember last night and the way he’d felt making love to her. Lord, how he wanted to keep that feeling! To be here, with his little girl and a woman to love, would be his idea of heaven. But could he make that heaven last? Could he find the strength to control the horrors in his head—the nightmares, the rages and the awful black bouts of depression?

With everything he’d ever wanted on the line, he had to try.

This morning he joined Dusty, Paige and the students for breakfast. Kira had laid out a cold buffet of cereal, rolls, fruit, cheese, juice and milk. Her gaze met his, briefly, across the dining room. They didn’t speak, but her warm look said it all. Nothing had changed since last night.

The new challenge would be finding time alone with her.

After breakfast and a quick bathroom break, everyone piled into the big Jeep—Kira driving, Dusty in the passenger seat, Paige behind them belted in her booster seat, and the students filling the remaining spaces on the three bench seats. Jake, with the dog standing at his side, watched them drive out the side gate and down the road. He felt strangely lonesome, being the only person here. But he had plenty to keep him busy. Much of the day would be spent brushing a coat of protective oil on the newly repaired stable roof. After that, if the job didn’t take too long, he might have time to spend on the motorcycle.

But first he owed himself some needed peace and pleasure.