Page 36 of It’s Always Been You (Always #1)

Caitlin took a good look at Nicholas Crane.

He had the weathered face of a rancher with deep bronze skin setting off his longish salt and pepper hair.

He had a biker goatee that went past his chin and tapered to an edge.

He had sun glasses on right now, and was wearing a shirt under his leather cut.

And jewelry; lots and lots of chains around his neck.

“So, you guys are here every week?”

“Yep. The epicurean market runs from the end of May to the middle of September,” Crane replied taking a chomp off his hotdog—or rather sausage. “Lots of out-of-towners. Need to make sure we keep the peace.”

“Quite the hands-on president, aren’t you? I thought you had underlings for that.”

Ashe snickered. Crane chuckled. “Patched members, honey. We’re a brotherhood, not some mafia organization. We also have Prospects.”

“Let me guess . . . bikers on probation?”

“Something like that. They need to learn to live the life, love the life before they earn that patch.”

“Okey-dokey,” Ashe said in an amused tone. “Angry white male incoming at twelve o’ clock.”

Caitlin looked up to see Travis, beers in one hand, a plastic bag of tacos in the other, bearing down on them. He was wearing the scowl from hell. She smiled broadly to put him at ease. She was comfortable with Crane; Travis needed to calm down.

“Crane, Ashe,” Travis greeted tightly as he nodded to the other biker. “You okay, Caitlin?”

“More than okay,” Caitlin replied. “Have a seat, Travis. Crane was just educating me on the culture of motorcycle clubs.”

“You can relax, Bennett. We just wanted to keep your pretty wife company. She seems to be quite taken with the biker lifestyle.”

“Fantastic,” Travis muttered, handing Caitlin a beer and setting down the bag of food beside her. She rummaged through its contents and said, “Jesus, Travis, how many tacos did you order?”

“Babe, have you seen the line? Knowing your appetite, I simply took preemptive action.”

“Like a true soldier,” Crane murmured.

Crane and Travis locked stares. Caitlin glanced at Ashe whose eyes were filled with mirth. Their club president and her husband were having a wordless pissing contest .

Crane spoke first. “Thought I’d let you know, I sent Duke off for a few days to a neighboring county. So you can rest easy that no one will be snatching your wife any time soon.”

“Much appreciated.”

Crane raised a brow. “Not much of a talker are you, son?”

“I’m not too keen on sharing personal information with strangers.”

“Now you’ve just gone and hurt my feelings,” Crane mocked. “Your wife is more trusting. I like her more than you.”

Okay, why was Crane baiting Travis?

“Would you mind, Crane? I’m trying to enjoy lunch with my wife,” Travis gritted through his teeth.

“Travis!” Caitlin exclaimed.

Crane smiled wolfishly and stood up. “No problem, Bennett. Nice chatting with you, pretty Caitlin.” He nodded to Travis and all three bikers sauntered away.

“That was rude,” Caitlin groused.

“For someone who’s been on the run, you’re too trusting, Cat.”

“Well excuse me if I wanted a slice of normalcy.”

Travis sighed and Caitlin felt a twinge of guilt knowing it was costing him to calm down and be more sympathetic to her.

“Sunshine, we’ll get there. I swear. I’ll eliminate all these threats to you so I can give you the life I’ve always wanted for us.”

His eyes flared with so much determination and fierce love, her breath caught.

“Oh, Travis—”

“I love you very much. You know that, right?”

“Yes.”

“Trust me?”

“I do.”

“Good,” Travis settled back on the bench and began to eat his taco. After a few minutes he asked, “What was Crane asking you?”

“Nothing. He did most of the talking.”

“About what?”

“Well, if you’re interested, we talked about garlic sausages and motorcycle clubs.”

His lips tipped up in a half-grin. “Interesting conversation. Garlic sausage?”

“It’s called a Toulouse sausage. It’s French. I didn’t want to sound like a know-it-all when Crane was explaining where it was from. But that type of sausage is used in a popular French stew called cassoulet, which happened to be one of my favorites when I lived in the south of France.”

“Trust you to know everything about food.”

“Love to eat,” Caitlin said primly as she reached for another taco. “I’m glad you got enough. I can definitely eat two or three.”

“I think I’ve gotten the hang of how much food that stomach of yours can handle,” Travis chuckled.

“Is that so?” Caitlin cast him a mock-glare, but lustily enjoyed the view of his exposed throat, seeing that he’d thrown back his head to take a swig of his beer.

How she’d like to lick the length of that and nip at the edges of his firm jaw.

Travis’s eyes slanted and caught her look.

Tipping his head down, his free hand shot out and caught the back of her head, bringing her face close for a kiss.

“Love you, sunshine,” he whispered.

Caitlin’s eyes closed as his lips claimed hers in a gentle kiss. It was on the tip of her tongue to say it back. There was just that tiny, niggling doubt that prevented her from doing so.

Travis was fucked. No, he was more than fucked. He was more in love with her now than he’d been all those years ago. It was a sustained feeling trapped between euphoria and despair.

He pulled away from the kiss and watched her slowly open her eyes. He felt himself get lost again in those endless depths of rich golden hazel. It hurt. It physically hurt not to have it all with her right now.

This was a taste of what they could have with no threats around.

Her enjoying the outdoor markets, shopping, devouring food to her heart’s content—even with a motorcycle club in residence.

Travis admitted grudgingly that Nicholas Crane could be a man he’d respect.

Travis wanted this freedom for her, and he would do his damnedest to give it to her.

Caitlin’s hair was like a golden halo in daylight.

He remembered that the first time he saw the play of sunlight in her hair, he had started calling her sunshine.

And the nickname stuck, because she was, indeed, that ray of sunshine during a dark time in his life.

He met her when he was convalescing from an injury.

Travis shattered his clavicle in an explosion that killed two fellow SEALs.

He spent two weeks in Germany before he was sent back to Virginia Beach to recuperate.

More than his physical injuries, he was plagued by survivor’s guilt.

But, somehow, after meeting Caitlin that guilt turned into a renewed reason for defending the country—freedom for his girl to play in the surf under the golden sun.

“What are you thinking about, Travis?”

“The first time I saw the sun in your hair. You were like a fairy princess, an exquisite little thing.”

“Is that right?” she teased and cast him that come-hither look she did so well that never failed to get him hard.

That evening, after a couple of tequila shots with Caitlin at Foster Bar, he decided to revisit a piece of the fabric of their past. He didn’t feel like telling, and decided to show her instead.

He grabbed her hand and led her to the side exit.

He had scoped out the place earlier. There was a shed behind the bar opposite the side of the parking lot.

“You said you were going to tell me about the night we met,” Caitlin slurred.

“Re-enactment, babe.”

“What?”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m not going down on you.”

“I’ll shut up,” she giggled.

He dragged her to the back of the shed and pressed her against the rickety wall with his body.

He was breathing hard; his lust fueled by alcohol, and his erection straining against his jeans.

He kissed her ravenously. His hand drifted under her skirt to find her panties soaked.

Nudging aside the crotch, he was pleased to find she was incredibly slick and only getting slicker.

“You’ve been waiting for me to give it to you, haven’t you, babe?”

“Travis . . . please—”

He inserted one finger and then two, curling them to touch that sensitive bundle of nerves, which had her squirming.

“Shh . . . quiet, Cat, or I’m going to stop.”

She whimpered softly.

He had only finger-fucked her that night they met at the bar. But tonight he was embellishing his story.

He dropped to his knees and lifted one of her legs over his shoulder. The smell of her arousal threatened to drive him crazy, his erection turning hard as a brick. His tongue stroked her center. She gasped.

“Shh … or I’m stopping—”

He pulled her panties aside and laved her sweetness away, sucking gently and tunneling his tongue into her entrance.

She was moaning, but Travis was lost with the taste of her.

When she started to scream his name, he quickly got to his feet, slammed his mouth on hers to absorb her cries, and finished her off by circling his thumb over her clit.

She exploded in spasms, shuddering convulsively.

She clung to him like he was some lifeline that would save her from being swept away.

He murmured against her hair, “Now we take this back to our room. I’m going to fuck you until dawn.”

There was plenty to do outside the small town of Iron Ridge. The main attractions were the hiking trails and white water rafting. After spending two days around town, Travis suggested they explore the Appalachian Mountains, which spanned that area of Southwest Virginia.

They hiked for over three hours until they reached the summit of Devil’s Peak. Caitlin squealed with delight.

“Oh, Travis, this is magnificent!”