He entered her, hard and fast, stealing her breath. Pain and pleasure collided, overtaking her. Then he was moving. Fast and hard and complete. All of him inside of her—the sensations so complete she could barely breathe. Then he stopped.
She grabbed his flanks, an orgasm so close. “What are you doing?” she gasped.
He looked down at her, so strong and male, so intense. Possessive and real. “This is forever. You and me. I’m not lettingyou go again.”
“I know.” She clapped her thighs against his hips. She’d known that fact the second he’d said he loved her.
“Good.” Grabbing her hip, he powered inside of her, going deep and hard. An orgasm rolled over her, taking everything she had. She held on tight, knowing he’d keep her safe.No matter what.
He kissed her again, her name on his lips as he ground against her and came.
They both breathed heavily as he rolled them over and gathered her close. She shut her eyes, finally at home. No matter what the next day brought.
* * * *
Jackson Holt pulled the truck around the lake to the farthest campground, rolling to a stop beneath the boughs of an ancient pine tree. Maybe not ancient, but definitely old. Louise slept with her head against the window, her face smooth in the soft moonlight. This was what love felt like, right?
He’d lied to her earlier to get her to leave Montana quickly, telling her he saw a couple of police cars go by. She’d be angry if she knew he’d talked to his brother, and there was no reason to tell her.
His mind was made up. She’d risked everything to love him, and that had to be respected. A tiny niggle of doubt swept through his head. It wasn’t the age difference, or the fact that she was married. Or even that she’d killed people. Oh, that was wrong, and he felt bad—sick, really—about it. But she had been hurt, badly, not just in her marriage, but as a kid by a man who shouldn’t have touched her. She’d told Jackson all about it.
It was the fact that she’d lied to him after everything they’d told each other.
He’d told her about his father, who liked to hit. How he figured it was his fault. But she’d said it wasn’t, and while he hadn’t believed her, something had shifted inside him when he’d seen his brother. When Hunter Holt had said he believed Jackson.
Louise stirred and sat up, blinking.“Where are we?”
“Walimi Lake. A campground on the south side,” he said, scouting the area for threats.
She turned and smiled, love in her eyes. “Youlet me sleep.”
“I’m going to protect you,” he said, lowering his chin. “No matter what. You get that, right?”
She blinked again. “Of course. We love each other.” She stretched her neck and tugged her sweatshirt into place. “There’s a convenience store on the other side of the lake. I’ll go find us some food and money.”
“No.” He turned to study her. “You can’t rob them. Not if we’re planningto stay here.”
She rubbed her eyes. “But we need money and food.”
“I’ll get a job, and I’ll support you. No more robbing.” He waited until she looked at him. “Or killing.”
She exhaled. “Howdid you know?”
“Saw the television.” He wanted to help her more than anything else in the entire world. “No more. Promise me.”
She swallowed, and he could see the indecision in her eyes. Then she smiled. “All right. Nomore killing.”
His gut sank. Hard and fast, like a fist he’d taken there more than once. He knew the signs of somebody lying. The shifty eyes, the wide smile, the soft voice. His father lied like that. As had several other people in his life. Louise was no different from the rest of them. And she killed, he realized, because she liked to kill. “I love you,” he said, meaning it.
She patted his cheek. “Ilove you, too.”
This wasn’t love. It was the closest he’d ever been or would ever get, but it wasn’t the real thing. The real thing didn’t include lies or guns or shooting people for money. Shit, he’d never been so confused.
He’d do anything to talk to Hunter again. Just once. What would his life have been like if he’d met Hunter before he’d met Louise? Well. It didn’t matter, now did it? “What do you want to do, Louise?” he asked quietly. “No lying or playing games. What’s the plan?”
She eyed him and licked her lips, taking the shiny silver gun out of the glovebox. “I really want to hit the convenience store on the other side of the lake.”
His chest hollowed out. Would she shoot him if he refused? The safety was off, and even though the gun rested on her leg, the barrel faced him. But he’d learned from the best, so he pursed his lips like he was thinking really hard. “Then we can’t stay here.” The dream of them building a life at this pretty lake disappeared faster than that money he’d made mowing lawns one summer. Ramsay had found it, even though he’dhidden it well.
