“Never.” Alana took down her hair and shook it loose.
He took off his belt and pulled it free of the loops.
She did the same. Lord, that woman could make a mint at a strip club the way she tormented him with the simple act of unzipping her jeans.
Slow piano music started the next song on his play list. Lorrie Morgan sang, “A Picture of Me Without You.” He opened his arms and they swayed together. He’d never danced completely naked with a woman. His heartbeat and pulse both jacked up several notches. Not even the cold water could take care of the erection pressing against her lower belly—at least he didn’t think it could.
She touched his phone with her toe and then did the same to hers, and Whitney Duncan started singing “Skinny Dippin’.” The lyrics told about chills from the water and chills from the way he kissed her. He pressed his lips to hers and felt both of those. She led him out into the creek, wrapped her arms around him, and then fell backward into the shallow water and brought him down on top of herself.
His lips found hers, and not even the chilly water could take away his need for her. She reached down between them and guided him in her. They forgot about the temperature of the water and all the crazy things going on in their lives. The world disappeared, and they were the only two people left on earth.
Sometime near dawn they awoke, wrapped up in the quilt like they were encased in a cocoon. Her head was on his shoulder. Their clothing was scattered around them in the grass that was now wet with dew. Both of their cell phones had been turned off and tossed to the side, and the only sounds they heard were the gentle bubbling of the creek as it went on about its business and the gentle cooing of a mourning dove.
“Good morning,” Pax said.
“Mornin’ to you,” she responded. “Think maybe we better get our clothes on and go home?”
“Ten more minutes.” He pulled her closer to him. “Now I see why you love it here. Thank you for letting me be the first one you shared it with.”
“You deserve it. You’re going to marry me.” Her warm breath tickled his ear.
“Maybe fifteen minutes,” he said.
“Make it twenty at least,” she said as she rolled over on top of him.
Chapter Eleven
Not even sucking on lemons could have wiped the smile off Alana’s face the next day when she thought about the night before. Her eyes widened as realization dawned, and she threw her hand over her mouth and moaned.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Lucas wiped the grease from his hands and then tossed her the red rag.
She cleaned the dirt and grime from her hands. “Nothing, I just hope this damned old tractor starts up when I turn the key,” she lied. “I hate to give it up, since it’s the first one that Daddy let me drive when I was twelve years old, but poor old thing’s wearin’ out.”
“Don’t I know it,” Lucas laughed. “She’s runnin’ on constant cussin’, bubble gum, and bailing wire these days.”
The tractor’s engine turned over on the first try, and Alana drove it out of the barn. She was almost afraid to turn it off when she reached the pasture she was supposed to plow, but she simply had to talk to Pax.
For two people who ran from each other for so long, y’all are sure makin’ up for lost time, the voice in her head pestered her.
“Oh shut up!” Alana sent up a prayer that had more to do with the red-hot sex in a cold creek than it did with being able to start a tractor again.
She slipped her phone from her shirt pocket, but before she could touch the screen, the damned thing rang. She had to scramble to keep from dropping it and was out of breath when she finally answered. “Hello, Pax. I was about to call you…”
“About last night? I’m so sorry, Alana. I got so caught up in the moment, and I wasn’t thinking about us having sex, so I didn’t come prepared,” Pax said. “When can you take one of those tests?”
“I’ll know in a week either way,” she told him. “And I was caught up in the moment too, so part of the blame is on me. We can’t do that again.”