Page 168 of We Drank the Dawn

“None of it matters anymore.”

I huffed, knowing I had something she would never be able to resist. “Well, bummer. I guess I’ll have to cancel my plans then.”

She stilled. “Wait. What plans?”

Playing with her, I waved a hand through the air as if it was stupid. “Nah, that’s alright. Since it doesn’t matter anymore⁠—”

A yelp wrenched from my mouth as her hands shot forward, landing right in a ticklish spot on my ribcage. Pushing her off, I cackled, holding my elbows down. “That’s not fair—I can’t predict⁠—”

“Peter Thompson!” She yelled as she tickled me again, relentless as I tried to escape. “What plans? Spill right now!”

I pushed words around my laughter. “You can’t—take a cheap shot—ah—at a blind guy.”

She died laughing too. “I’ll take whatever I want, thank you very much.”

I grabbed her wrists, immediately suspending them over her head. She kicked and struggled and giggled and the persistence of her curiosity was so cute. “Peter, tell me right now before I wither away and die. You know I can’t handle a secret.”

Holding her captive, I shook my head. “I gotta think about it.”

“I’ll do anything,” she whimpered. “Just tell me.”

I raised a brow. “Anything?”

“Name your price.”

I bit down on my lip, stifling the fresh wave of laughter building in my throat. “Okay, then. I want you to cancel all your massages on Wednesday the twenty-ninth of November.”

She jerked back in surprise. “Huh? Why?”

I loosened my hold. “Because we have an appointment at Denver Fertility Specialists.”

She gasped, the fight in her arms draining away. Her voice was a raw whisper, “What?”

“When I called, they told me they had a cancellation. I just took the appointment so no one else could and figured we’d talk it out and decide if we still wanted to⁠—”

Her mouth smothered the explanation on my lips as she lurched up, grabbing my head and yanking it to hers. An unbidden groan ripped through my chest as we rocked forward, unsteady on our feet. As she pressed her body into mine, my lips instantly answered, sweeping over hers again and again, hurried and insistent.

Sensation exploded through my numbness, like a sudden flash illuminating the endless dark. My eyes fluttered closed as Sarah’s touch transported me to another dimension—one where the only thing that existed was us. Every single nerve woke from the dead, desire for my wife incinerating my skin, pulling my insides to pieces, and leaving me breathless.

The numbness I’d suffered for so long was nowhere to be found.

If riding a bronc made me feel more alive, touching Sarah was my full resurrection.

My hands found her waist, skimming up to clutch her rib cage that heaved with her desperate sips of air and frantic movements. Her hands curled around my head, plowing through my hair then skating over my shoulders and down my back only to slide to my chest and do it all over again. Her hunger nearly folded me at the knees—she was so ready. My fingers followed her ribs to her spine, gliding to the place where the hem of her sweater met her jeans.

Without skipping a beat, my hand slipped under the fabric and Sarah rewarded me with a beautiful sound when I touched her bare skin. Her head fell back and her knees went so weak that I had to gather her up in my arms to keep her standing. Our feet shifted over the gravel, rocks moving as we fought to stay upright while we unraveled together.

Sarah’s hands clutched at the front of my shirt, and suddenly she was tugging me toward the barn that lay just beyond us. Understanding what she wanted, I leaned down, slipping my hands behind her thighs and lifting her. Within a few steps, her back hit the side of the barn.

When I leaned into her, we combusted. She lost control a little bit and I had to shush her.

“Shh.” I pressed a shaky laugh into her neck, unable to stop smiling. “Someone could be out here.”

“Sorry.” Her voice was so breathless.

Damn, she was hot.

My mouth trailed a line to her ear. “We need to get back to the fifth wheel.”