Say You'll Marry Me

“Do you ever wish this wasn’t pretend?” Her voice was soft and husky and so full of longing his heart surged against his ribs. “Not the engagement part, but the rest of it?”

“Don’t ask questions like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you won’t like my answer.”

“Says who?”

All of a sudden, what she’d said before registered in his head. She didn’t love that bastard anymore. In fact, she’d insisted on making sure he knew she had no residual feelings for her ex by tackling him and kissing him crazy.

Holy shit. Did he actually have a chance in this game?

Hope buoyed despite his earlier attempts to remain guarded. She wanted him for him, not for the stand-in he’d assumed he’d become.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and she responded by leaning down to kiss him again.

This one was slow, sweet, and all about exploration. At some point, she released his hands, and he skimmed them down her back to burrow under her sweater. He caressed the supple skin at her waist before moving up over her ribs, to the curve of her full breasts. When she made no move to stop him, he pulled the cups of her bra down to roll her hardening nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

Her sharp inhale was followed by a nip to his bottom lip.

“Ow,” he muttered.

“Sorry.” She released him, then gently sucked to soothe where she’d bit.

He lightly pinched her now rigid nipples, and she gasped again. Logan lifted with the heels of his hands, urging her to lean over him, his mouth watering at the thought of doing some sucking of his own.

She rocked forward, braced on her hands and knees as he dragged her sweater up to expose her breasts.

“Joy? Logan? Everything okay in here?”

Al’s voice from the main barn entrance made them both freeze for a heart-stopping second. Logan jerked his hands away from her bra, and Joy jumped off him.

“Oh, my God, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered, hastily adjusting her clothes.

As Logan surged to his feet and started brushing shavings from his clothes, the scuff of Al’s footsteps sounded ever closer on the concrete aisle.

“Joy?”

“In by the shavings, Grandpa.” Bra and sweater straightened, she raked her fingers through her hair, scattering the thin slivers of wood clinging to the ends of her curls. “I was just helping Logan finish up some chores.”

The footsteps halted abruptly, and Logan stilled just as quick. He and Joy both stared at the open, empty doorway. A few shavings floated to the ground in lazy spirals as the telling silence grew uncomfortable.

“As long as everything is all right,” her grandpa finally said.

Logan winced, but didn’t speak.

“It is,” she assured him.

Another pregnant pause. “I’m going to bed then. Goodnight.”

“Night, Grandpa.”

“See you in the morning, Logan.”

“Yes, sir.” And that won’t be awkward at all.

He listened as Al’s footsteps retreated, until each step was an ever more faint crunch on the gravel in the quiet.