And Then You Kiss (Crested Butte Cowboys Series Book 3) (11 page)

Soon they were telling stories about Zack, reminiscing about what a wonderful young man he was.

Many of the stories were about Zack as a cadet. He’d been recruited by the academy for track. He ran all four years and was eventually team captain. He was also the wing commander the spring semester of his final year at the institution.

He was stationed at Peterson Air Force base in Colorado Springs right after he graduated, and many he served with were there to pay their respects.

What Paige hadn’t known was how much volunteer work her son-in-law did. When he and Bree were first married, he volunteered to help with the academy track team, but that wasn’t all. He devoted countless hours to the Wounded Warrior Project as well.

Zack had touched so many lives, as evidenced by all those who gathered here to pay their respects to him, and his family.

Finally word came that the plane was less than an hour away. The protocol staff came and briefed them on what would be happening.

Only immediate family would be allowed on the tarmac when the plane landed. Everyone else would be escorted to the viewing room, which was in the building they’d all been in before.

Paige and Mark stood on one side of Bree; Zack’s parents were on the other side. Blythe stood behind them with Zack’s brother.

The color guard and armed guards came on the tarmac and approached the plane where it had come to a stop. The door opened and the casket, draped in the American flag, was brought down.

Blythe saw Bree about to fall before anyone else did. Her sobs were more than she could stand. She wanted to take her sister away from all this. She didn’t care that Zack had been in the Air Force, his wife should be allowed to do all of this in private, not forced to withstand procedures and protocols.

She moved closer to her sister, and put her arm around her waist. If she hadn’t, Bree wouldn’t have been able to stand. Her dad moved closer as well and put his arm around Bree’s waist. Bree’s sobbing continued. It was the worst sound Blythe had ever heard.

Zack’s parents were the first to approach when the casket was moved to the Humvee. His father leaned forward and put his hand on the casket. His mother buried her head on her husband’s chest, but the sounds of her sobs were not diminished.

Paige and Mark were next to approach the casket, leaving Bree standing alone. Blythe moved forward and held her sister’s hand as tears streamed down her face.

Then it was Bree’s turn, and she approached the casket alone. She laid her hands on the top of it, and cried. They waited, and waited, but Bree would not leave the casket. When the officers approached to drive the casket away, Bree refused to leave. Rather than ride in the car with her parents and Blythe, Bree climbed into the Humvee and road to the funeral home alongside her husband.

As the cars in the processional left the tarmac and drove toward the gates of Peterson Air Force Base, every surface street was lined with soldiers, standing at attention and saluting as the Humvee passed. There were hundreds.

Word had spread quickly about the processional for the heroic young man. As they drove through the streets of Colorado Springs, cars were pulled off to the side of the road. Blythe saw as they passed, many of the drivers had gotten out of their cars and were saluting too.

Colorado Springs was home to Peterson Air Force Base, Schriever Air Force Base, Fort Carson Army installation, and the Air Force Academy. Heartbreaking as it was to think about, military funerals took place too often in this community that was also home to many who had retired from the military. The community came out to pay their respects.

When they arrived at the funeral home, Blythe ran in to find Bree, who was sitting in a room, alone, with the casket.

“What can I do?” she whispered.

“Bring him back,” Bree answered.

More than four thousand people attended the visitation the next day. It started at two in the afternoon. It did not end until nine that evening. Many who came laid military coins or patches in the open casket.

As a former Air Force Academy cadet and graduate of the prestigious institution, there were countless stories about his willingness to serve his country, his loyalty, his sense of humor, his goodness.

Blythe hadn’t realized that he’d volunteered for the Afghan deployment until she overheard someone talking to Bree about it. Even more tragic, that deployment was scheduled to end less than thirty days after he was killed.

Blythe saw Tucker, standing not too far away from her, watching her. She approached him.

“You’re here.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I care about you.”

“But you haven’t talked to me.”

“No, but I’ve been nearby. If you needed me I was close.”

Blythe walked into his open arms. “I need you now.” She buried her head in his comfort and cried.

“Tomorrow is the funeral.”

“I know.”

“Will you be there?”

“I will be.”

“Will you sit near me?”

He pulled her closer. “Of course I will.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Please Blythe, please don’t say you’re sorry. Keep doing what you’re doing. Your sister would be lost without you.”

“Do you think so?”

“I know so. You’ve been so strong for her. I’m so proud of you.”

Blythe started to cry again. The stress of the last few days was wearing on her. She had no idea whether she was doing the right things for Bree. It was reassuring to hear someone tell her she was.

The service at the church was standing room only, in a building that held five thousand people. Blythe sat in the row behind her sister and parents, with Brooke and her husband. Several times she reached out and put her hand on Bree’s shoulder, and Bree put her hand over it.

The casket, surrounded by the color guard, followed the single bagpiper down the aisle. As it passed, airmen raised sabers, one by one.

After the pastor spoke, scriptures were read, Zack’s commander spoke, and one of Zack’s childhood friends read a poem written by his mother. The stanzas connected his deep reverence for the natural world with reminders that he was on the right path in his life and faith, and urged people not to weep for him because of his sacrifice.

Mark was asked to sing and when he did, Blythe thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. Her father’s voice always brought her to tears, but this time, it was different. Usually she cried tears of joy. Today it was about sacrifice, and tragedy. As many times as people said he was “with God now,” or he was a hero for serving his country, all Blythe could think was that he’d left his wife, his soul mate, the woman he loved. And the woman who loved him.

Blythe was relieved that it was finally over. She had no more tears to shed. She’d cried so much her body ached. She wanted nothing more than to leave, alone, and not see anyone for days. She couldn’t though; Bree needed her. Even though their older sister, Brooke, was there, it was always Blythe who Bree turned to.

She raised her head, looking around at no one in particular. Two rows behind her, sat Tucker. Jace was seated next to him. His eyes were red; he’d been crying too. She wanted to look at Jace, to acknowledge his presence, but she couldn’t look away from Tucker. She longed to have him come and hold her. When seconds earlier she’d wanted to leave alone, not see anyone for days, now she wanted him to take her away, comfort her, tell her all of this was a bad dream.

Most of those in the congregation were seated, but Blythe couldn’t take her eyes from Tucker’s. Her mother touched her arm, and she turned and sat down.

“I thought it was over,” she whispered.

“Not yet,” Paige answered.

Colonel Stevens came forward and began a roll call of the squadron. When their names were called, each solider in attendance answered. Then the colonel called Zack’s name.

“Captain Fox?” There was no response.

“Captain Zachary Fox?”

“Captain Zachary Jonathan Fox?”

That was Zack’s final roll call. His name called three times, meant he had left his unit.

Bree was crying so hard her entire body shook. Blythe stood and went to her. Someone tried to grab her arm, but she didn’t care. Bree had been beyond brave. Enough was enough. She didn’t care what anyone thought. This was her sister.

The casket was being transported to the cemetery by Humvee, per Bree’s request, but this time, she’d agreed to ride in the limousine with her family. Blythe held her as she slowly walked toward it. Bree stumbled, and Blythe could not catch her quickly enough. Before she realized what was happening, Tucker was there, helping her hold on to Bree, getting her to the car where she could close herself off from the pain of what was happening.

“Thank you,” Blythe whispered.

“Of course,” Tucker answered.

Blythe got in the car with Bree and closed the door. Her sister fell against her and cried, harder than Blythe had seen her cry up to that point.

Shock.
It was your body’s defense against the pain it knew it wasn’t capable of handling. When it wore off, there was no choice but to work your way through your grief. Blythe never wanted to feel the things Bree was, but how did you avoid it? If you loved, there was always the possibility of loss.

She and Bree had talked about it. Would she have chosen not to be with Zack, had she known this would happen? If she’d known she’d lose him so young, so tragically, would she still have let herself fall in love with him? Would she still have married him?

Yes, Bree had told her. She’d do it all the same way again, and again. She’d loved Zack with all her heart. She wouldn’t trade any of her time with him even if it meant she could avoid the pain she was in now.

Blythe wondered if she was capable of feeling that way about anyone. Could she be that brave? She doubted it.

Paige and Mark joined their daughters in the limo. Paige took Bree in her arms and Mark comforted Blythe. Never before had she felt so thankful for her parents. She’d done her best to be strong for her sister, but she needed a little comfort herself now. Did that make her weak?

Blythe pulled away from her dad.

“What?”

“Bree needs you,” she said softly.

“So do you,” he answered, pulling her back into him. “It’s okay Blythe. You can let go a little.”

Blythe buried her face in her father’s shoulder, and cried.

***

At the cemetery on the Air Force Academy grounds, Zack’s brother read the list of the awards his brother was being given posthumously—the Bronze Star, Meritorious Service Medal, Purple Heart and the Air Force Combat Action Medal. Again, to Blythe, none of that mattered. Every time she looked at her sister, she saw a broken heart no award would mend.

After they lowered the casket into the ground, the minister asked that the family be given some privacy, and the crowd dispersed respectfully.

***

Blythe saw Liv and Renie walking to another part of the cemetery. She’d completely forgotten that Renie’s father was buried here too.

Zack’s family came back to her parents’ house, and several of Bree and Zack’s friends came too. Renie asked her as they were leaving the cemetery if Blythe wanted them to come to the house, but she told her it would be okay if they didn’t. Blythe wanted to escape for a little while, if only to her bedroom. If Renie and Billy came to the house, she’d feel as though she’d have to talk to them.

“Take me for a drive?” she said to Tucker when he walked in the front door.

He didn’t answer, but put his jacket back on and turned around. He always did that, didn’t he? When he was ready to leave, he left.

“I’ll tell my mom—”

He nodded his head and slipped out the door before she finished her sentence.

Tucker needed a few minutes to himself. He doubted he’d have that long, but he’d take whatever time he could get. He’d never wanted to bury himself in a woman more than he wanted to right now. And not only for her comfort, for his too.

Grief was palpable, and it had surrounded both of them for the last few days. Witnessing it brought it all back to him.
It hadn’t been her pain alone he experienced. He relived his own pain; it engulfed him.

He wanted to feel something other than the pain of loss, and all he could think about was running
his hands over Blythe’s body, nuzzling himself into her, and holding her nakedness next to his own.

This wasn’t helping. He was out here to stop thinking about making love to her, not think about it more. If he didn’t stop thinking this way, he’d be on her before she had the door to his truck closed, and she’d realize he was a selfish bastard
.

She said she wanted to go for a drive, he hoped she knew where she wanted to go. He’d been staying at the inn in Palmer Lake, and right now it was the only place he could think to take her.

When Blythe slid into the seat next to him and brought her mouth to his, there wasn’t any question that she was thinking the same thing he was.

She loved kissing him. And it was all she could think about. Before it had been slow and languid, this kiss was nothing like that. It was hot, hard, and deep. It took her breath away. It made her want to climb on top of him right there, in her parents’ driveway.

He pulled away first.

“Blythe, honey, stop for a minute.”

Oh God, he didn’t want this. What was she doing? Her sister’s husband just died. He must think she was the most horrible person. She had to get out of the truck right now. Away from him. She lunged for the passenger door.

“Wait,” he said, grabbing her arm. “Where are you going?”

“It’s okay. If you don’t want this, it’s okay.”

“Hold on.” He pulled her back so she was on his lap with her back toward the driver’s door. “I didn’t say that. Nothing like it.” He took a deep breath. “There isn’t anything I want more.”

“Why did you stop me then?”

“Not because I don’t want you. Let’s get that straight right now.”

She watched his mouth as he spoke. She didn’t want him to speak. She wanted him to kiss her.

“You gotta stop looking at me like that.”

She closed her eyes. Why was he still talking? If he didn’t have his iron grip on her, she’d try to scoot away again. She shifted to see if he would let her go.

“Blythe. Please. Stop moving baby. Sit still for a minute. I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Since when do you want to talk?”

Tucker reached around her and started the truck, and shifted her off his lap, but kept his arm wrapped around waist.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer her. If she didn’t want him to talk, he wouldn’t talk.

“Tucker?”

He stopped at the end of the block and pulled the truck over. He turned, held her face and kissed her again. Hard. How could she think he didn’t want her? Couldn’t she feel the heat between them? Hell, couldn’t she feel what she was doing to him? But he didn’t want it like this. He wanted it slow. He wanted to study her, learn her body. He wanted them to comfort each other, to connect. When his body touched hers, he wanted to know their souls were touching too.

He put the truck back in gear.

“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?”

He didn’t answer.

She shifted so more of her back was to him. She crossed her arms in front of her. He couldn’t look. Didn’t she know what it did to her breasts when she did that?

He pulled around to the back door of the inn and parked the truck. He put his arm around her waist again and turned her so she was facing him.

“Look at me,” he said. “Are you ready for this Blythe? Because if you’re not, you need to tell me now. If we do this, everything changes. Everything.”

Was she ready? Part of her had been ready the first time he kissed her, on the porch at Ben Rice’s house in Crested Butte. When he slid his hand up and cupped her breast, she wanted him to make love to her there and then. And again later that night, on their way home from dinner, when Tucker stopped the truck and kissed her. She’d been ready then too.

“Blythe, you need to answer me.”

She looked into his eyes. Yes, she was ready. She told herself Tucker and Jace confused her, that she didn’t know which of the Rice twins she wanted, but the truth was, she’d known all along. Even in that moment when they’d met and she looked into his brooding eyes. She’d known then.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I’m ready for this Tucker.”

His hand gripped her neck. His lips covered hers as he took possession of her mouth. His other hand slid up under her shirt and caressed her skin.

“Please,” she gasped. “Let’s go inside.”

He wanted as much of his body touching hers as was possible. Even when they got to the door of his room, he didn’t want to let go of her. Adrenaline surged through his veins, his heart pounded; he couldn’t breathe with wanting her.

His shoulder hit the light switch as he walked past. He wouldn’t let go of her, until he could lay his body on hers.

Somehow he managed to get them on the bed. He rested his elbows on either side of her, and pressed his body hard onto hers. He wasn’t gentle or easy. He took possession of her mouth, in the same way he planned to take possession of her body, as soon as he could.

Her eyes were closed and her face was turned to the side.

“Sweetheart—”

She was crying. And now he couldn’t speak. If he did, he would cry too. He rolled so they were side to side, and held her while she cried.

“Get it out baby. Cry. As long as you need to. I’ve got you.”

Blythe couldn’t stop. It felt so good to be in Tucker’s arms, to be able to cry, without worrying about her sister, or anyone else seeing her. She’d held so much in for so many days. Now it was pouring out of her. Once it started, she was powerless to stop it.

But she wanted more, she didn’t want him to hold her while she cried. She wanted his hands on her, she wanted them to be as close as they could get. She pulled back and rolled so she straddled his body. She rested her hands on his chest, and looked into his eyes.

Tucker put his hands on her waist, and moved them slowly upward, pushing her shirt up as he did. Blythe reached down and pulled it over her head.

He sat up and nuzzled his head between her breasts. As he wrapped his arms around her waist, he unhooked her bra, and pulled it away as she shimmied her arms from it. She threw it to the side. When his cheek met her skin, she shuddered. When his mouth replaced his cheek, she cried out.

He rolled again, so she was back under him. With one hand, he unzipped her pants. She helped slide them down over her hips, then her legs, then her feet.

Tucker caressed her bare hip when he realized she’d taken her panties off too. He shifted to his side, so he could look at her. He ran his hands over her; his lips followed.

She was in agony. As much as she knew he would take his time, she didn’t want him to. Blythe grabbed at his jeans, trying to unzip them, urging him to be as naked as she was.

He let go of her and stood. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

“Wait—where are you going?”

Tucker rummaged through his shaving kit.
Shit.
He didn’t have any condoms. He closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

“Blythe, honey. God, I’m so sorry. I don’t have any condoms.”

“It’s okay, I’m on the pill.”

“I haven’t—”

“Tucker, I don’t want to talk about it. Please get the rest of your clothes off.
Please.”

She closed her eyes, hoping he would listen to her. When she opened them, he had his clothes off and was kneeling next to h
er. He pushed his way between her legs and came down on top of her, sliding his arms around her. He pulled her as close as he could, and slid inside her.

She pulled herself up, and took possession of his mouth in the same way he had hers.

He began to move, and before she could catch her breath, they both cried out together.

“Blythe. Sweet Blythe,” he said.

***

When Jace got to the house he looked around for Blythe and Tucker, but didn’t see either one of them. He peeked his head into the music room.

“They left.”

The voice coming from the dark and quiet room startled him.

“I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

He thought he heard her laugh, but then the sound quickly changed to crying. It had to be Bree, but it was dark enough that he couldn’t be sure.

“Can I do anything for you?”

“Everyone keeps asking me that. There’s only one thing anyone can do.”

“What’s that?” he asked the question, but already knew the answer.

“Bring him back to me.”

***

They made love all night, over and over again. Blythe was as insatiable as Tucker was. When the sun rose, they slept. He woke her again later with his mouth. And they began the dance again.

“Do you need anything?” he whispered.

“I’m hungry. Starving actually.”

Tucker didn’t have to get up to reach the menu where it sat on the nightstand. “What would you like?”

“You decide.”

He smiled down at her. He’d forgotten for a moment. She liked it when he decided for her. She liked it a lot. He pressed the button on the room phone, and ordered.

He was still on top of her, resting most of his weight on her body. He had to be hurting her, but she showed no sign of it. She shifted, so he rested between her legs. She reached down and put him inside her. She didn’t seem to care that he was still on the phone as she began to move beneath him. It was all he could do to hang up rather than let the phone fall to the floor.

“I should check in. I told my mom I didn’t know where we were going.”

“I texted Renie. She let your mom know.”

“How did you get Renie’s number?”

“I used your phone.”

“Why didn’t you text my mom?”

“Because I didn’t want to have a conversation with anyone. I told Renie it was me, and asked her to let everyone know you were here with me.”

“Oh.” Blythe wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Right now, she didn’t care. There was a part of her who felt as though she should make a bigger deal out of it. But why?

One of the nicest things about Tucker was he figured things out, he took care of what needed to be taken care of, he made decisions, and he acted on them. Shouldn’t she appreciate him the way he was?

Since his lips were on her neck, slowly making their way down her body, she decided not to question a damn thing Tucker did. At least not right now.

***

“Where did you say she is?” Brooke asked her mother.

“She’s with Tucker.”

“She spent the night with him?” Brooke was wearing her judgmental face.

“Brooke, Blythe is a grown woman, who shouldered more than her share of responsibility over the course of the last several days. Let it go. It’s none of your business.”

Mark walked into the kitchen as Paige stormed out.

“What’s wrong with your mother?” he asked.

“I asked where Blythe was, and when I suggested her behavior might be inappropriate, she jumped all over me.”

Mark didn’t always think about what he was going to say before he said it, but when it came to his daughters and his wife, he learned that every once in a while it made sense to. Blythe was twenty-three years old, and while she wasn’t the most responsible of his three daughters, she was working on it.

Before he could decide what he wanted to say, Bree came into the kitchen.

“Where’s Blythe?” she asked.

“Out with some guy. Overnight I might add,” Brooke answered.

“Oh for Christ’s sake Brooke, why the hell don’t you go back to Germany?”