“You’re already mine,” he said against her nape. “But damn… Do you have a condom?”

“Don’t need one. I’m on the pill.”

“But in Thailand, you said—”

“I lied.” She’d had to in order to stop him from taking her fully.

“You bad, bad girl,” he whispered and flipped her over.

She spread her legs as wide as she could, so wanton in her need. He took his weight on his elbows and plunged into her in one, harsh stroke.

She bit her lower lip at the most incredible sensation. He was so big, he stretched her to the limit. It felt like he was filling every empty corner of her body and heart.

He pushed in and out of her, each thrust hard and controlled. The delicious friction caused her walls to tighten and clench, and she tightened her jaw to contain a scream. Her breasts bobbed, and even the slight movement of the cool air seemed too much for her overly sensitive nipples.

He changed the angle of his pelvis, bumping and grinding into her clit. Her vision whitened, and she let out a silent scream as a fiery orgasm incinerated her every nerve ending. He soon joined her, his mouth pressed against the spot between her neck and shoulder as he shuddered and emptied into her.

He rolled to his back, taking her with him. He breathed roughly, sweat beaded along his hairline. With a soft smile, she traced every perfect line of his beloved face.

“Even if you don’t remember everything, you haven’t changed that much,” she whispered when they could breathe normally again.

“You mean, I’ve always been a great lover?”

She giggled. “Dirty and demanding.”

“See? Just like I said.”

She laid her cheek against his chest, listening to his heart beat. Da-dum, da-dum, da-dum. So comforting. So real. She closed her eyes. This was exactly the way it should be.

She yawned. “I should probably go back.”

His arms tightened around her. “Stay a little longer.”

“But—”

“If you fall asleep, I’ll carry you to your room.” He kissed her on the forehead.

She smiled. “Okay.”

* * *

The next morning Ginger opened her eyes in her own room and smiled to herself. Shane wasn’t just a great lover. He was the greatest lover. She just couldn’t tell him because he wouldn’t be able to fit his head through his tee-shirts.

She walked out into the hall to use the bathroom and almost ran into Trevor. “Sorry. Hi.” She grinned goofily.

“Morning.” He frowned. “You know… You really should be a little more quiet. You kept me up quite a while last night.”

Her jaw dropped. Before she could respond, he walked down the stairs.

She put her hands over her flaming cheeks. Great. So her brother had heard everything. At least her parents were heavy sleepers.

When she made it downstairs, her dad had already finished with breakfast and gone out to check on his cows with Trevor. Ginger sat at the table as her mom placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of her.

“Good morning,” Zoe said cheerfully. She had on her red apple apron, which she only wore when she was in an exceptionally good mood. “How are you feeling?”

“Not bad,” Ginger said.

Shane was at the table too and gave Zoe his most charming smile when she put more bacon on his plate. “You’re an amazing cook, ma’am. I bet not even Mark’s fancy chefs can make bacon this good.”

She gave him a side-eye, her lips twitching in a suppressed smile. “Who’s going to believe that?”

“Me. And Ginger. And anyone else who’s eaten your food.”

Zoe laughed and put a plateful of scrambled eggs, bacon and home fries in front of Ginger. “Eat. You’ve lost too much weight.”

“All right.” Ginger dug in. Zoe had fretted after she’d come back to the States with Debbie. But she hadn’t known exactly what was wrong, and Ginger hadn’t told her.

She also hadn’t told Shane, and didn’t plan to. Better to leave that pain in the past. It still hurt when she thought about it, and what would be the point of telling Shane now? Debbie had the right attitude—that it just wasn’t meant to be, but heaven would bless her again when the time was right.

Zoe went to the kitchen to look at what kind of dessert to make for lunch and dinner. Ginger leaned over to Shane. “Hey,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Did Trevor say anything to you?”

“About what?”

She leaned closer. “Our noise last night.”

“No. Why?”

She pulled back with a scowl. “I see.”

“What’s that expression for?”

“I know what’s going on. And here I thought Trevor really heard something.”

“Heard what?” Zoe asked, coming back to the table with a pitcher of iced tea.

“Nothing,” Ginger said quickly. “I was having a dream and apparently talked in my sleep.”

“Well, don’t mind him. The slightest little noise will have him up and prowling the house.” Zoe put a hand on Ginger’s shoulder comfortingly. “More bacon, Shane?”

“Please.”

Ginger pushed her plate his way. “You can have mine too.”

“No, you’re going to eat all that.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and ate almost all of her breakfast before excusing herself to go track down Trevor.

The farm didn’t make much profit, but Fraser still worked it anyway. He said it was good to keep busy doing something physically demanding even in old age. “Keeps me young,” he said.

Finally she found them together in the vegetable garden.

“Trevor, can I talk to you for a moment?” she called out.

He wiped his face with a towel and came over. “What’s up?”

“Noisy, am I?”

Trevor shrugged.

“Since you have such amazing hearing, what kind of noise was it? A nightmare? Sex?”

“Jeez. Stop. You’re my sister.”

“I knew it.” She pointed a finger. “You were just saying that to make me behave.”

“So sue me. I’m your big brother.”

“Shane and I are engaged. You shouldn’t act so…Puritanical.”

Trevor winced. “I don’t want to imagine you doing anything with any guy.” Then he got a far-off look. “By the way… About what you said yesterday…”

“What about it?”

“Is it true? He cut all communication with you after going to South Africa?”

“Yes. Why?”

Trevor’s eyebrows pulled into a deep V. “Nothing.”

She tilted her head. “If you know something, can you tell me? It’s important.”

He looked away. “I don’t know anything.”

Really?” she said, fishing for any information he might have.

“Hey. I’m not spying on you and Shane, despite what you think.”

Trevor went back to helping their dad, but her internal bullcrap alarm clanged loud and hard. Trevor knew something.

But why wouldn’t he tell her?

Chapter Fifteen

Shane and Ginger left the farm after two more days. They hugged Fraser and Zoe—only Ginger hugged Trevor—and promised to visit again soon, maybe even spend the Fourth of July with them. That had perked up her parents so much that Shane had felt guilty. Just how little time had Ginger spent with them on holidays?

He hadn’t wanted to drive separately, but she didn’t want to leave her car behind, and he didn’t think Mark would appreciate him leaving his precious Aston Martin at the farm.

“Follow me to my place,” he said.

“I don’t need to. I know where you live.” She blinked up at him. “Do you?”

“Of course I do.” Mark’s GPS had Shane’s place programmed. Technology was a wonderful thing.

“Fine. The loser owes the winner lunch.”

“Oh, I think we can do better than that,” he said. “Lunch and twenty minutes of slow head.”

“You’re on,” she said, then dashed to her car.

He let her go first. It was unfair to pit an Aston Martin against a Nissan. He waited ten minutes, then started.

It didn’t take that long, only a couple of hours. The late morning traffic was pretty light. Still he hadn’t spotted Ginger’s car, which was odd, but she’d probably had to stop for gas or something along the way.


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