Out of the Past (Heritage Time Travel Romance Series, Book 1 PG-13 All Iowa Edition) Page 18

  “Yep, it goes all the way down to the edge of the cemetery,” he said, pointing south. “And about six-hundred acres straight out. The crops are struggling a bit with the drought this year. Everyone’s hoping it turns around soon,” he said and rapped his knuckles on the railing of the wooden deck. “Care to sit for a while?” he asked and motioned to a cozy grouping of outdoor furniture pieces.

  We took a seat on a cushioned glider bench and he pushed it into motion with his foot as we sat back and sipped our drinks, watching the shadows spread out across the land.

  “You have a wonderful home,” I said leaning over to give him a slight nudge with my shoulder.

  “Thank you. That means a lot to me coming from you,” he said and smiled over at me.

  I felt totally at ease and comfortable being with Dave, relaxed in a way that I haven’t experienced for a long time now. The stress of my weird manic life in Rose’s house didn’t seem quite so bad at this moment and I could almost believe that my nightly time travels weren’t real except that unfortunately they were real and I would be dealing with them again in just a few short hours’ time. I shivered at the thought and fervently wished that I didn’t have to deal with that part of my life ever again. My life would be pretty perfect if only I could stay in this current dimension.

  “Are you chilly?” Dave asked, noticing my shudder.

  “Oh no, I’m fine,” I assured him.

  “How about you come inside and help me get the rest of the dinner on?” he suggested.

  “Sure,” I said and mentally turned off thoughts of Rose’s house for now, determined to enjoy this evening in spite of my personal problems.

  ***

  We prepared the rest of the dinner together; I helped him by tearing up the lettuce for a salad and we used a cutting board to slice vegetables together. At one point, he popped a slice of red bell pepper gently into my mouth and I reciprocated by giving him a slice of a green one. Dave put out the dishes, and I arranged our place settings at one end of the table close together, while he went out to retrieve the steaks and baked potatoes from the grill.

  We ate our dinner in the formal dining room with the chandelier softly glowing and with some great classic soft rock playing in the background from his whole house sound system. He got around to questioning me about my break up after dinner and during our second drink.

  “Char told me a few days ago,” he admitted. “She wasn’t sure if it was a secret or not but thought that I might be interested. You know Char.”

  “I don’t mind and yes Char is a wealth of information as I’ve come to know since my initiation into Fremont society,” I said and gave him a side long glance.

  “Uh oh—what has she told you about me?” he asked curiously but with a hint of leeriness.

  I paused dramatically with an expression of distaste, as if I were about to share a laundry list of his flaws and deprived behaviors but then smiled at him.

  “Only that you’re good man, but I’d already made that observation on my own,” I said. “That’s all.”

  He smiled and lifted his hand to make a gesture as if wiping sweat from his brow.

  “So, back to Derek,” he went on, continuing his pervious line of questioning. “Have you done okay since then? Have you heard anything further from him? Seeing anyone else?”

  I gave him a roll of my eyes, “Doing fine and no to the rest. You may find this hard to believe Mr. Cameron, but there just aren’t that many men who are interested in living in Fremont, Iowa.”

  He laughed, making it clear that he recalled himself saying something very similar to me, after his relationship with Sharon had ended.

  “I think that maybe you need to look closer to home,” he suggested with a shy smile and took a drink from his glass.

  “Perhaps I should,” I agreed noncommittally. “I’ll take that under consideration.”

  “Well, on that note,” he said dryly. “If you would care to entertain yourself for just a few minutes I’ll get these dishes into the dishwasher and then maybe you’d like to take a drive into town and get some ice cream or something?”

  “I’ll help you. We don’t have that many dishes. I’ll wash them by hand for you old school.”

  “Okay, well I’ll dry then,” he decided coming to his feet.

  ***

  As I filled the kitchen sink with soapy water, Dave settled an apron around my waist and he stood close behind me as he tied the strings into a bow. He said that he didn’t want my clothes to get wet, but I had the sneaking suspicion that he was just looking for an excuse to get close to me. I didn’t mind one bit because I was having that usual giddy, warm, absolutely right feeling about Dave that I have whenever I’m in his company for any length of time. This time though, I didn’t have the obligation of fidelity to Derek standing between us like a sentry guard, keeping Dave at bay and I had the definite sense that Dave was well aware of that fact.

  He stood at the ready, at my side, with a dish towel in hand and carefully dried each dish as I dipped it into the rinse water and handed it off to him. His fingers touched mine several times as we handed the dishes between us and with each touch, it felt like an electrical charge was firing between us. I could feel the heat of his body, with him standing so close at my side and the sleeve of his cotton shirt brushed my upper arm over and over again like a caress.

  It was when he had to reach up over the top of me to place the cleaned and dried water glasses on the open shelf above our heads that it happened. I looked up just as he edged around me to place a glass and his eyes looked down into mine and—you know how in every romantic novel ever written, when the hero realizes that the long awaited opportunity has finally arrived and he just goes for it? Well that moment, when he looked down into my eyes was it and it happened exactly like I just described except that when he lightly touched my shoulder, turning me away from the sink to face him and pulled me into his arms, I held out my hands at my sides, soapy and wet.

  “Dave, wait, I’m all wet,” I warned him.

  “I don’t care, Torie, put your arms around me,” he whispered huskily as his hand slipped around the back of my neck and his mouth sank onto mine as though he had rehearsed it a hundred times, a million times. It was just the perfect blend as his lips molded to mine and we fit, like we were old lovers who had done this with each other for years. I put my arms around his rock hard waist without further concern about being covered in soapy water up to my forearms, surrendering to the deep, passionate kiss.

  “I want you, Torie. I need you,” he whispered against my mouth and my deep kiss I gave him was the only answer that he needed.

  With unspoken consent our clothes began to loosen and fall like a beautiful ballet as we left a trail from the kitchen and through the house—my apron—his shirt—my shirt—his shoes—my shoes, and when we were both, in our excitement, wrestling unsuccessfully with each other’s jeans buttons; he had me off of the floor and up into his arms in one single fluid motion that hinted at a tremendous underlying power that was being held in check. His mouth was on mine again, our breath huffing ragged and gasping in between fevered kisses and it seemed that there was not enough oxygen in the entire house for either of us to catch a full breath. And so with my arms wrapped around his neck and my legs locked firmly about his lean waist, he carried me up the stairs to the second story.

  ***

  I lay breathless and in shock. “Dave I never knew that it could be that way. I didn’t even know that I was capable of enjoying sex that much,” I confessed as my body sated and satisfied, started to relax. “I can’t believe that that’s what I’ve been missing all this time? Thank you Dave! Thank you so much!” I gushed, giggling and kissing his neck, his cheek, his mouth. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Twenty years of going without, of never feeling the satisfaction of being fulfilled by a man and always assuming that it was something physically wrong with me! Dave had dispelled the myth and cured me in just minutes.

  He chuckled an
d whispered, “I just keep racking up those points, don’t I?”

  “Oh yeah,” I agreed and kissed him again deeply.

  Chapter 23

  I hadn’t seen a sunrise in Fremont since I’d moved into Grandma Rose’s house. In awe, I watched the soft pink glow of its first dawning rays filtering through the sheers and enjoyed a changing pattern that was dancing across the hardwood floor. I realized it was the reflection of the windblown leaves of an errant branch of a burr oak tree out back behind the house, caught in those same captivating rays of light.

  A deep masculine sigh behind me reminded me of where I was and I smiled with satisfaction. I was in Dave’s large bedroom, of course, which was beautifully decorated with earth-tone fabrics and heavy substantial furniture. The dressers and bed in oak, which had multiple woods inlaid; contrasted and complemented the dark hardwood floor and a woven area rug of muted browns, peaches, and greens. Dave was resting close behind me, spooning me with his arm protectively over my waist and I could feel the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest behind me.

  I turned over as carefully as I could, not wanting to disturb him but very much wanting to see his face. He stirred slightly with my movement but didn’t wake as I settled myself, still encircled by his arm, and I let my eyes roam over him. His expression was smooth and relaxed as the filtered early morning sun softly spilled upon his face and I smiled to myself, my heart squeezing with emotion at the sight of his sweet innocence in slumber.

  I myself felt rested in spite of the fact that we had spent most of the evening in his bed and hadn’t actually gotten to sleep until almost midnight. After that, we still couldn’t get enough of each other, and we had wakened each another and made love two more times in the night. Both times it had begun slowly with a languid appreciation that soon had become frenzied with an urgency that had fused us together in our mutual and near simultaneous fulfilment which is still such an amazing and unbelievable occurrence to me. Thinking about the passionate lovemaking that he had helped me to discover and to share, I now know that I will likely never be able to get enough of this man.

  As I watched him, his eyes fluttered open, and he gazed at me with a look that told me that he was remembering our night as well.

  “Hey,” I said softly, reaching out to smooth my hand through his hair that was spilling over his forehead, before running my fingers along the plush scruff of his cheek.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes moving over my face before settling on my eyes.

  Since he was now awake I felt at liberty to explore him and I ran my hand over his chest enjoying the feel of the soft light furring of dark hair and he pulled me close into him and entwined his legs with mine, running his hand over my bare back and lower to squeeze my right buttock playfully as he lightly kissed my lips.

  “How about I fix you some breakfast? Can I fix you some eggs or pancakes? You name it.”

  “That sounds good—pancakes, I think. I’ll help though, deal?”

  “Deal,” he agreed with a smile and lifted his head to place a gentle kiss on my bare shoulder. “What do you have planned for the day? Do you want to hang out here with me? I’d love it if you would, Torie.”

  “I’ll need to run home, shower, and grab some clean clothes.” Thinking of my clothes, I lifted my head and looked around the room and then remembered that at least some of my clothes were still strewn about downstairs. I dropped my head back onto the pillow.

  “I’m gonna have to make the walk of shame, if I can find all of my clothes,” I said with a laugh, not really feeling shamed in the slightest but rather the contrary. “At least I live a mile out on gravel so I won’t have any witnesses.”

  “No walk of shame—and no one-night stand, I hope,” he said seriously. “Waking up with you here beside me is a dream come true for me, Torie. I think that you probably already know that I’ve been crazy about you practically since day one.”

  “It’s a dream come true for me too, Dave,” I confessed and he smiled softly, satisfied.

  “Tell you what, why don’t we have some breakfast and then you run home and get cleaned up and come back over. You said that you know how to ride and we can take my horses out for a trail ride a little later today. I need to repair a fence out back by the barn, but after that, I’m free for the day. What do you say?”

  “I say that sounds like a plan. I’d love to do that,” I said.

  “I have a nice little pond at the back of my ten acres so we can pack a lunch and head out there and make an afternoon of it.”

  “That sounds great,” I said kissing his lips. It was actually my definition of an absolutely perfect date.

  That settled, Dave rolled out of bed and headed to his closet and returned with a white terry robe that he lay on my side of the bed. Then in the buff he headed for the bedroom door and quizzically I watched him go, enjoying the wonderful view of his firm muscular backside as he walked out the door and disappeared. A minute later and he was back, holding my blouse and sandals and he reached down to grab up my jeans and bra and panties from the floor and dropped everything on the bed.

  He grinned down at me. “Quite the frenzy wasn’t it?” he asked.

  “Unforgettable,” I agreed rising to a sitting position as I ran my hands through my crazily snarled hair bringing it into some kind of order.

  Dave grabbed up the robe, holding it up and I stood and slipped into it, turning around to allow him to tie the belt about my waist and then I accepted the gentle kiss that he placed upon my forehead.

  He then turned his attention to locating his own articles of clothing and I enjoyed the scenery as I watched him throw on his very sexy black boxer briefs and a T-shirt, then together, we headed downstairs.

  We had a blast making breakfast together and after a leisurely morning, enjoying our breakfast and each other’s company, I dressed and headed home while Dave threw on some clothes and headed out to repair the fence.

  ***

  When I returned an hour later, I found Dave out back of the house by the barn still working on the fence and I totally appreciated the view as I approached and observed him lifting a heavy fence post into place with his impressive biceps bulging. My gaze was drawn to his flexing chest that had just the right amount of sexy dark hair and lower to that little happy trail that just begged to be explored. The sheen of perspiration lit his torso and he looked like a gleaming bronze statue with the mid-day sun beating down upon him.

  He paused in his work to watch me approach while wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm and he gave me a winning smile.

  “Hey, I’m almost done here,” he said breathlessly and then added. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” I said and didn’t dispute him although I thought that he might need glasses because I was not styling but rather I was appropriately dressed for horseback riding, which meant a plain pink T-shirt, some of my grubbiest jeans and my old worn cowboy boots.

  He went back to his job at hand and I watched him meticulously work to feed a rail through the post and then pull out a wooden mallet and peg from a nearby box of tools, driving the peg into the slot of the rail, to fasten it to the post. He smoothed his hand over the joint ensuring that it was just right and I smiled to myself, thinking about what a stickler for detail he always is. He always wants everything about his work to be completely authentic and the wooden pegs, which he manufactures himself in his workshop, are just one of the authentic little details that he had brought to some aspects of my homestead as well.

  “How about while you finish, I start seeing about the horses?” I suggested, pointing to the two bay quarter horses who were curiously hanging their heads over the corral rails watching Dave do his fence mending; tails swishing methodically in an effort to keep the pesky flies at bay. They were just on the other side of the corral out in a pasture and all I’d need do, would be to open the gate and they would likely come right in.

  Dave looked over at them as he stamped the
dirt back into the post hole.

  “Sure, I’m done here. Let me help you get them in.”

  He’s absolutely flawless, I thought wistfully as I watched him stand upright after tossing all of his tools into his toolbox. He adjusted his jeans on his perfectly muscled waist before grabbing up his discarded T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. I’ll admit that perhaps I’m a little fuzzy-headed from the effects of the night I just spent with this wonderful man and my opinion a bit biased, but I doubt that many women could look at all that dark golden-tanned skin and strong sinewy muscle and not share my opinion in short order.

  I followed him to a gate where he lifted a rope, and the gate swung free. He closed it after us and pointed to the barn.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and open the door there, and they’ll just walk right in. They know where their stalls are. You could get them brushed down if you want while I shower and then I’ll saddle them up.”

  “That sounds good; you’ll just need to show me where the brushes are but about the saddle, is that necessary? I’d rather ride bareback if that’s okay.”

  “Hmmm—sure,” he said eyeing me with interest. “Bareback it is. You really are a horsewoman, huh? I’m impressed.”

  I smiled at him and shrugged my eyebrows non-committedly with a lift of my shoulder as I turned for the barn.

  I unlatched and pulled the barn door open and waved at Dave, calling. “Ready, boss.”

  I stood to the side as Dave slipped the rope off of the gate and let the gate swing open. The horses trotted in and as predicted, obediently entered the barn and found their appropriate stalls. They were standing and nosing around in their feed troughs when I caught up with them.

  Dave came in after me and I saw him open the wooden latch to a small tack room just to the left, setting aside his fence mending tools on top of a shelf. He emerged a moment later with a couple of metal coffee cans overflowing with grain and filled the horse’s troughs with the treat, while I headed into the tack room and found the brushes and curry combs.

  “You all set?” he asked as he tossed the coffee cans into a large barrel of feed and closed the lid.