Jake started to laugh, but swallowed the impulse back, thinking correctly that it wouldn't be appreciated. He cleared his throat, gave himself a second to compose his sudden humor, and said, "I know, princess. That's why I'm here."
This was getting confusing. "You're here because I'm in Wyoming, even though I want to go to Washington," she muttered beneath her breath, shaking her head. "That makes no sense, Jake. And what on earth does any of it have to do with peaches?"
His hand opened, holding the soft underside of her chin, drifting over the long, smooth taper of her throat. The pulse nestled in the base leapt erratically against his palm. "Yes, I put the peaches in your saddlebag. And yes, I added the extra slices of jerky that you may or may not have noticed yesterday. And yes, the two extra cans of beans the day before that. And..." he shook his head and sighed. "Amanda, you don't really think you can stoke a fire before you go to bed and still have it blazing when you wake up the next morning, do you?"
Her eyes widened. "You did that?"
"That... and more." He chuckled softly. "A couple days back I tried to head you off, steer you West... but you're a stubborn little piece of royalty. Cute, but stubborn. You just stuck that prissy nose of yours up in the air, went around the pile of logs I'd set up, and headed due south."
It wasn't funny. Amanda knew it wasn't funny. Jake had been following her, watching her all this time and hadn't had the decency to show himself. She should be insulted. She should be furious! She wasn't. How could she be angry when she had Jake Chandler's husky laughter curling like warm honey down her spine, and his steely gaze heating her blood?
She reached up and cupped the back of his hand with her palm. Their gazes met; hers wide, his narrow, both intense and searching. "Why, Jake? Why would you do all that for me?"
"Because I'm anxious to get to Washington," he replied huskily. "Because I want to know what it's like to make love to my woman in a real bed."
Amanda's stomach fluttered. "M-make love?"
"That's what I said."
"Yes, but is that what you meant?"
"Yes. It isn't just 'sex' with you, lady. It never has been. Damned if I know..." Jake gritted his teeth and pushed abruptly to his feet. The curses he let loose were long and vibrant. "See? See what you've done to me? Jesus, now you've got me lying!"
With an aggravated sigh, he plowed his fingers through his hair, and grimaced. It felt short, light... unfamiliar. He wondered how long was it going to take to adjust to this new, shorter length? How long before he adjusted to the boots that he'd bought in the last town he'd passed through; boots that pinched the hell out of his feet. And the shiny new Smith & Wesson hanging off a holster whose leather was so new it squeaked; a gun he really wasn't good at using. And the saddle that sat in a shady spot beneath a tree; a saddle he'd hitched behind the white because he still hadn't had the heart to put on.
How long was it going to take for him to adjust to all of that? Jake didn't know, but however long it took, he'd do it, work at it. Hard. For Amanda. And speaking of Amanda...
He glanced down at her. "I do know why it's so good with you. Do you want me to tell you, princess? Are you ready to hear it?"
"More than ready," Amanda replied, and braced herself. She was scared to death to hear what he was going to say, yet she also knew she'd go c
razy if she didn't listen.
With a gentleness Jake didn't know he possessed, he drew her to her feet. Neither noticed when the blanket fell from her slackened fingers, and puddled on the ground around their feet. Both were excruciatingly aware of when he pulled her against him, molding her soft white curves to his solid copper body.
Home, Jake thought as he held her against him. Cradled in her arms was the sweetest place he had ever, would ever, know.
He angled his head, and rubbed the golden silk of her hair with his cheek. His breaths sounded deep, strained; the heat of them washing over her felt wonderful, inflaming.
"I love you, Amanda Lennox," he whispered softly, raggedly. "Jesus, I love you so much it scares the hell out of me!"
Amanda absorbed the words, let them slide through her in a wave of pleasure that made her shake. When Jake pulled her closer, she nuzzled against him without question. She wrapped her arms around his back, holding him close, as though trying to melt right into him and become a part of him—the way he was already a part of her.
"Er, princess?"
"Hmmm...?"
"This is the first time I've ever done this, so maybe I'm wrong, but I think you're supposed to say you love me, too."
Amanda smiled, and hugged him all the closer. "I do. I do, I do, I do! You know that. You—"
He inched back and, cupping her cheeks in his hands, stared into her eyes. "Tell me, Amanda. You said the words once, and I turned you away because I thought I had to. I won't turn you away now. Never again. Please, I need to hear you say it."
She sucked in a sharp breath, held it for only a beat, then, on its release, poured out the words that were in her heart. "You are my life, Jacob Blackhawk Chandler and I... Oh, God, I love you so much it hurts sometimes."
His sooty lashes swept down, and she watched his expression tighten in an acute pleasure-pain that seemed to radiate from his body to hers. She shivered, and a tear slipped free when she reached up and smoothed a palm over his brow, his cheek, his jaw. It fascinated her, the way her small white hand looked against a backdrop of burnished copper.
Her gaze lifted, locking with intense silver. There was no need to speak her thoughts aloud; Amanda could tell by the look in Jake's eyes that he knew exactly what she was thinking.