Page 28 of Small Town Hero
H e had no idea why she had run from him.
He got on his horse and went after her as quickly as possible. By the time he arrived at the barn she had already put Pegasus away. He took care of his own horse as quickly as possible and then walked up the stairs to her apartment.
He felt . . . he just needed to talk to her. There was a pressure in his chest, and he wasn’t used to it. This overflow of emotions.
The problem with her was that she brought all this out in him. She made him feel things, made him think about things, made him put voice to things that had stirred inside him for years, things he’d never known how to talk about.
Because he basically hadn’t been allowed to.
His dad had never outright said they couldn’t talk about his mother and sister, but Gunnar had known it. Somewhere deep in his heart, he had known that if he ever tried to bring the subject up, there would be issues.
But with her, he could talk about his loss. He could put his feelings into words. He could . . .
She opened the door, her eyes round. “Oh.”
“I want to talk to you.”
“Okay,” she said.
She stepped back, and he moved inside. She was breathing hard, and he had a hard time believing that she was still out of breath from the wild ride back. Her breasts were rising and falling with the motion, and he couldn’t help but look.
He was her boss, technically. And he suddenly felt . . . bad. That he had come in here like this, that he had . . .
But she was beautiful. She was so beautiful. That wasn’t why he was here. It wasn’t.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Of course, I am.”
“No of course about it. You seemed upset when you rode off. And I need you to know, this last week has been really important to me. You’re important to me, and . . .”
She took a step forward, her hands balled into fists, and suddenly she planted them on his chest, flat, and then curled her fingers around his shirt. “Let’s not talk.”
Then she stretched up on her toes and she kissed him. Wild, hard.
And something ignited inside him. With the fire of a thousand suns.
He had never felt desire like this before.
Had never felt such need. But then, he had never known the woman he was kissing, not like this.
And she had never known him. Yeah, he’d exchanged pleasantries with the women he’d been with, but they hadn’t known the things that hurt him.
The things that kept him up at night. The things that stole his breath and his joy.
That horrible truth about being the last remaining member of his family, and feeling like he had to stay here as the guardian of the graves forever.
But she did.
And whether or not he was her boss was wiped away with the sweep of her tongue over his lower lip.
Because she was just Birdie Lennox, and he was Gunnar Parsons. Two of the most unlikely people to ever find kinship with each other. To ever kiss.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close to his body, angling his head and taking the kiss deeper, his heart pounding wildly, his whole body revved up.
He wanted her. He couldn’t remember wanting someone like this before. Because he hadn’t. Had they always been destined for this? He had hated her so much when they were kids, but had he really just been scared of all the freedom she represented?
Had he always thought that if he touched her, the wildness might be contagious?
Because he hadn’t been able to afford wildness.
She said morality was too expensive, but for him, it was the opposite.
He’d had to be good. Because there was nothing else to be.
He had had one parent left, one family member left, and goodness was the most important thing to his father.
If Gunnar wasn’t good, then he would lose everything. He couldn’t afford to lose everything.
But here he was kissing Birdie, and it wasn’t good. Oh, physically it was. Physically, it was phenomenal. Physically, it was the greatest thing he had ever experienced in his life.
But he was her boss. It was wrong.
He pulled away from her. “I am not holding your job over your head. I would never do that. You don’t have to kiss me. You don’t have to . . .”
“You know, funnily enough,” she said, her voice soft, “you’re the first man I never wanted anything from except . . . you.” She moved her hand down his chest, and there was a softness to her face that he had never seen before. “Gunnar . . . don’t do this because you feel bad for me.”
“Hell,” he breathed. “I don’t . . . That’s the furthest thing from my mind. But I don’t want you to do this because you think you’ll lose something if you don’t.”
“I’m not good enough for you,” she said. “Because I am the kind of woman that’s been in those situations and I . . .”
“Hey,” he said, gripping her chin and forcing her to look up at him.
“That’s nonsense, okay? You are good enough.
You’re . . . hell. You’re better than good enough.
You’re the most interesting, resilient, fascinating woman I’ve ever known.
You’re the only person I’ve ever been able to tell all these things to. ”
“And I’m still leaving,” she said. “I’m never going to be anyone’s forever, and I get that you can’t leave.
It’s good. I wouldn’t even ask you to. But I’ve never just wanted someone before.
And I just want you. That’s why I ran away.
Because it scared me. Because it’s too big.
Because it’s . . . Can you just kiss me again so that I don’t have to think about any of this?
So that we don’t have to talk about it?”
She was sidestepping, trying to run away from the things they really needed to talk about, but she was so . . . He understood what she was saying. This felt different.
He had been trying to push her away. He had been trying to pretend that he didn’t feel it, because he didn’t want to lose the .
. . the purity of their connection, but now that they were actually standing here, acknowledging the attraction between them, nothing felt less pure. Yet it all felt better. More magical.
Because to have what they had, and to have this too was . . . electric in a way he had never imagined it could be.
Connection.
That was what sex had been missing all this time for him.
Knowing someone.
Except, he also had a feeling it wasn’t just that. Because it was something about her. Something that made him let his guard down.
He felt raw. Felt as if she could reach out and touch his heart if she wanted to.
It felt so dangerous. So damned dangerous.
And when he kissed her again, he felt lost.
He couldn’t think of a single good reason why he shouldn’t kiss her and keep on kissing her.
He wanted to make her feel beautiful. He wanted to give her everything. He wanted to move this so far away from the other experiences she’d had that she would never compare them. He wanted it to be about her.
Giving, not taking.
That was a fantasy he’d never realized he had. But suddenly he was consumed with it.
He kissed her, her lips, her cheek, down her neck.
“I’m going to take care of you,” he whispered. “It’s going to be good.”
His whispered promise sent a cascade of anticipation through her.
She knew it was going to be good, because she had never felt anything like this before.
She should be relieved, because she wasn’t just standing there feeling overwhelmed by emotions anymore.
At least this part should be familiar. Kissing.
Sex. She knew about a man’s body. And she wasn’t embarrassed for a man to see hers.
But somehow this was different. Somehow, kissing Gunnar hadn’t obliterated the emotions inside her.
Suddenly, Gunnar was looking at her as if he wanted to devour her, and she didn’t see that upright, Captain America sort of guy she always did when she looked at him. There was something more to him.
Something a little bit wicked, and she had never imagined how much she would like the look of it on him.
He was human. And that wasn’t a disappointing thing to realize. It was electrifying. It was everything.
Suddenly, she found herself being lifted off the floor, deposited in the center of the bed.
He was looming over her, and anticipation was building within her.
He pressed his hands down on the mattress on either side of her and kissed her deep, then reached behind his head and pulled his shirt off.
Her breath left her body at the sight of that glorious chest. Had it been only a couple weeks ago that she had first seen him like that, when she had come into the house, and he had given her breakfast?
She had been immobilized by how gorgeous he was then, but having him close enough to touch, having him look at her like he wanted her . . .
She felt her throat getting tight again.
Gunnar wanted her.
How was that even possible? How could a good man want her like that?
Because she wasn’t good. She wasn’t. It had never bothered her until . . . until him. It had never bothered her that she hadn’t tried to be good, until she was faced with the best man she had ever known. Now she wanted to be good enough for him, but it was impossible.
Except he wasn’t making her feel as if there was something wrong with her. And this felt nothing like a transaction. She reached up and pressed her palm flat against his chest, and her whole body shivered.
She thought she might jitter apart she was shaking so hard.
She moved her hands down that hairy chest, and her toes curled at the erotic sensation, at how hard and hot he was.
With efficient, rough hands, he stripped her T-shirt off her, then reached around and unhooked her bra. She never had been self-conscious about her body, and yet, beneath his intense stare, she found herself worried that she might not be quite what he was after.
“Beautiful,” he said. His voice was rough, and he was being honest.