But he did.He was that determined.He built her back up, one deep thrust after the next, maintaining his pace even when her breath caught again.Even when she tried to work a little bit of her own magic with those hips of hers that he thought might haunt him forever.
He maintained the same rhythm.It was drugging.It was extraordinary.
It was, he was certain, perhaps the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his life and he was loving every single second of it.
And finally, he watched a flush work its way all over her.It stained her cheeks and her neck and found its way down the front of her chest as he gripped her hard and began to move a little faster.
A little deeper.
Her nails dug deep into his shoulders.She threw her head back, her hair everywhere and her mouth open, as if this was a joy too great to bear.
He kept going, finding that place inside of her that she couldn’t seem to handle—and when he rubbed himself there, stroke after stroke after stroke, she fell apart.
This time, he let himself fall with her.
And what a way to go.He felt as if he was torn apart and scattered like glass, though he was sure that every last glittering piece of him could feel every matching, gleaming shard that was her.
It seemed like a thousand years later that they were reconstituted, themselves again, and he lay with her on that bright, happy bed and held her as she lay there, passed out hard in his arms.
She snored, and it was adorable.She was hot and warm and sweet against him.And he felt as if his heart had left his body entirely.
He suspected he knew exactly where it was.
Tennessee did not intend to sleep much this night, either.And she was even sweeter than a litter of adorable puppies.
But he could already feel the shift inside of him.It had already happened—maybe it had happened all those years ago at the swimming hole and this had been a losing game ever since.Whenever it had happened, what mattered was that he could already tell that it was too late.
And that meant Tennessee was going to have to figure out how to tell her—and everyone else, and himself while he was at it, and more dangerous, her—that what he needed from Matilda Stark was the thing she was very unlikely to give.
Not just herself.He figured she’d be happy enough with that.
But what he wanted from her was forever.
Chapter Nine
Matilda was wellused to her spontaneous, not-even-remotely-thought-out decisions having consequences.That was the price of spontaneity.On balance, she usually felt that it was worth it.
But a consequence she had not thought to prepare herself for, and could not possibly have imagined preparing herself for, was… suddenly finding herself in some kind ofthingwith Tennessee.
Matilda couldn’t allow herself to name it.She hardly dared believe it was happening, much less in a way that requiredcategorization.
She expected to wake up that first morning and find him gone, but he was still there when she opened her eyes in the darkness of the wee hours.Sleeping beside her in her bed, wrapped up with her as if they’d spent many nights just like this.Right there in the bedroom where she had spent a whole lot of time making up stories about him in her head.
For years.
She could hardly be blamed for throwing herself on him and waking him up in a manner that had him calling out her name and gripping her headboard like he wanted to break it in half.And he nearly did, before he returned the favor in kind.
That had all been deeply satisfying.
It wasn’t even dawn yet when he left, which in some circumstances she might have felt was him sneaking out.But this was Tennessee.He did notsneakanywhere.
Matilda reminded herself that he had to get down to the diner before five, just like every morning, and he certainly wouldn’t want anyone to see his truck parked up here at this hour.That would start the kind of gossip that Matilda might have been used to, given her eccentricities that so many people liked to comment on, but Tennessee was different.Folks didn’t whisper about his personal life too much these days.They whispered about his accomplishments, his mood, and whether or not they thought he would support new ventures in the valley.
There was no way that he would be a fan of speculation about his social life.It wasn’t personal, she told herself as she stood at the window and watched his taillights as he drove away.He was used to being a little more private, that was all.
She hadn’t given him her cell phone number.That had been deliberate.If she knew he had it, some part of her would be waiting to see if he used it.That was only natural.
This way she couldn’t torture herself, waiting for him to call.
