Joe swept her into his arms and carried her to bed. Sophie unbuttoned his shirt and pushed the soft fabric from his shoulders, desperate to feel his skin against hers.
He kissed her as he stripped her, and kissed her as he stroked her, making her body tingle from head to toe. She arched against him, unsatisfied by the light touches and the kisses. Joe was her husband. She wanted to belong to him. It was time to have no more distance between them.
The driving need to be his only intensified when he filled her. His body on hers, his skin covering her, made her feel completely alive. Joe made love to her slowly, savoring the moment, extending the pleasure until she was panting and clinging to him, desperate for release. The climax shattered her, the orgasm so powerful it broke some little wall she’d had up, and she cried, and once she started crying she couldn’t stop.
It wasn’t that the sex wasn’t good, it was the opposite.
Making love to Joe had been unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She felt real and known. Beautiful and valuable. His care for her had been evident in every caress, and every kiss, and in the way he’d made sure her need was met.
The closeness she felt was unlike anything she’d experienced with Leo. In Joe’s arms, she finally felt peace.
Love.
In Joe’s arms, she felt the meaning of love.
And so she cried, because she knew now that what she’d had with Leo had been empty, and she’d been too naïve to know, too silly and optimistic to understand that Leo hadn’t cared for her. Leo had never made her feel this good, or this special, not even once.
She cried because maybe Sarah had been partially right. Maybe Sophie had gone through the motions, wanting a relationship, wanting to be part of a couple, and Leo had been convenient.
She cried because if this was how Leo felt with her sister Sarah, and Sarah felt with Leo, then they should be together. And they were right to end things.
And then Sophie cried because she’d been angry for months, angry with Sarah and Leo for betraying her, when really Sophie had betrayed herself, by settling for less, by being content with a relationship where she didn’t matter, and hadn’t ever truly mattered.
Joe held her through the tears and there were a lot of them.
“Why are you crying?” he asked when she finally grew quiet, his arm low around her waist, holding her securely to him.
“I realize I’ve made so many mistakes,” she said, before hiccupping. “Too many. It’s overwhelming.”
“Want to talk about them?”
She shook her head. “No.” She struggled to wipe her cheeks dry. “I’m too ashamed.”
*
Joe held her until she fell asleep, and then he eased away and left the bed. He grabbed his jeans and boots and shirt carried them with him down the hall to the bathroom. It was the middle of the night but he took a shower, a long hot shower, before dressing and heading to the family room where he stretched out on the couch.
Making love to Sophie had been amazing, earth-shattering. Until she began to cry, and then once she started to cry, she couldn’t stop and Joe realized that what had been powerful and life changing for him was a terrible mistake for her.
He slept for a few hours and then woke up before daybreak. In the kitchen, he splashed cold water on his face, made coffee, filled a thermos, and grabbed some day-old biscuits before heading to the barn. He had a lot of work to do, a long day in the saddle, and he had no idea when he’d be back.
Maybe because he didn’t want to be back.
Chapter Eleven
Sophie had Monday off, which meant she was home all day waiting for Joe to appear, but he didn’t return to the house for lunch, and he wasn’t back late afternoon, either.
He never stayed out after dark.
The long-standing rule for all ranch employees was that everybody reported in before dusk. In all the time Sophie had known Joe, he’d never been late, he’d never not returned by dark. He was like clockwork. Four thirty, he was in. Four thirty, his horse was groomed, animals fed, he was in the kitchen washing up to help with dinner, or assist his mom.
But it was most definitely dark now and Joe wasn’t back.
Her heart hurt, and her eyes burned and she paced the kitchen frantically, watching the clock, waiting for his boots to thud on the porch before he’d open that back door.
Fifteen minutes passed, and then a half hour, but still no sign of Joe.
Finally, heartsick, she started dinner, browning the pork chops even as she swung from fear to anger and back to fear again. She was worried. Had something happened to him? Why hadn’t he come back? Why did no one else seem bothered by the fact that Joe wasn’t home?
She headed for the family room where Granddad and Summer were watching the evening news.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said.
“Should we eat in here tonight?” Melvin said. “We can eat as we watch the news.”
“Joe’s not back yet,” Sophie said, feeling as if they knew something she didn’t know, because they never ate in front of the TV and it was almost an hour past the time they normally ate. “Joe hasn’t returned yet, and that’s not like him.”
Melvin muted the TV. “He’s back,” he said bluntly. “He’s fine.”
Sophie’s heart lifted, and relief swept through her. She almost felt dizzy at the news. “I didn’t see him come in. When did he get back?”
“You probably won’t see him tonight,” Summer said. “He’s sleeping in the bunkhouse tonight.”
Sophie froze. “Why?” she asked, before she could stop herself.
There was an uncomfortable beat of silence for a moment, and then Melvin said, “Joe just needs some time. Even as a boy, if he got upset, he needed space and time.”
Sophie slowly understood what they were saying, what was happening. “He doesn’t want to see me.”
“Just give him time,” Summer said with a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s not easy, but everything will work out.”
*
Summer was right about one thing; it wasn’t easy giving Joe time. His silence felt like rejection, and the rejection felt like abandonment. Sophie wasn’t ready for this. She didn’t feel strong enough. She wasn’t prepared.
She suddenly felt like it was December and her entire world was crashing in again. It hadn’t crossed her mind that Leo would leave her. And now Joe didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to talk to her. He wanted nothing to do with her. And Sophie didn’t know what to do. She felt absolutely desperate, and cried herself to sleep, only to waken an hour later, numb and heartsick.
Was it over between them?
Joe’s mom had counseled for Sophie to be patient, and give Joe space, and time, but that was also the very thing Leo’s mom had told her when he’d ended things.
He just needs time.
He’ll come around.
But he didn’t. And Sophie didn’t think Joe would, either.
In the morning, after what had been an endless, sleepless night, Sophie started to cry yet again, and they were exhausted tears, but also furious tears because this wasn’t the marriage she’d come to Montana for.
This wasn’t the practical businesslike arrangement they’d wanted.