Loving Laney. Harmony Evans

her, she squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth going slack.

      Laney opened her eyes and Austin stilled above her, breathing heavily, his arms stock-straight, palms flat against the mattress. The firewood shifted with a loud hiss, but neither of them flinched. His dark eyes gazed into hers and she bit her lip again at what she saw in them. No more a calm river, but a whirlpool of lust.

      He began to move inside her so rapidly that she brought her hands to his massive shoulders, afraid she would fall off the bed. She tried to palm them, but gave up and settled on his shoulder blades. When she found a spot, she held on, like a mountain climber grasping sheer, slick rock, never letting go, never looking down, for fear of dying.

      Her hair fell down around her face and she thrashed her head from side to side, moaning. She opened her legs wider, so Austin could climb higher, bore deeper.

      He impaled her as his own, over one erotic threshold and then another, scaling and moving together, until she cried out again, desperate for more.

      The freedom Austin was giving her, those undulating waves that were no match against fear, taking her outside of herself as their mutual pleasure rose to almost unbearable heights.

      “Don’t hold back, Laney,” he urged, breathing hard. He found her lips and groaned. “Because I can’t.”

      His neck corded as he slammed into her one last time and lifted his face to the sky. His chin jutting forth, eyes squeezed shut, as he froze in place.

      Laney opened and closed her legs around his waist, and then finally locked them around his slick body. She moved her hips greedily to claim every drop that poured forth.

      Emptying him.

      Filling her.

      So forbidden, so wanton, so unbelievably good.

      The fire continued to crackle, and the beads of sweat that rolled from their bodies did not dampen their desire. No longer uncertain and not wanting to waste another moment, Laney and Austin began to eagerly explore each other again. Neither one considered, nor cared, what the new year would bring.

      Chapter 1

      “It was the kiss that changed everything,” Laney whispered.

      Stella Rose nuzzled her neck. Named after her favorite lead character from the play A Streetcar Named Desire, and her favorite flower, Stella Rose was Laney’s prized thoroughbred and her closest confidante.

      “Not yours, silly,” Laney exclaimed, giggling. “Austin’s!”

      She gently patted Stella’s chestnut mane. “Only you know how I truly feel about him,” she whispered. “That’s a secret between us girls.”

      Her newly minted sister-in-law, Brooke, who’d married Laney’s older brother Jameson, knew the biggest secret of all.

      Laney was four months pregnant with Austin’s child.

      All because of one night that she would never forget.

      Ever since New Year’s Eve, Austin was the focus of her dreams, and they were naughty indeed. So much so, she’d often wake up in a sweat and it was difficult to control her thoughts for the remainder of the day.

      But if she were honest with herself, the fact was that on most days she didn’t know how she felt about Austin. Only that she was scared to tell him the truth. First, she had to get through the process of telling her family.

      “I sure wish they were as easy to talk to you as you are, Stella.” She grabbed the leather reins. “Come on, girl. Let’s get you groomed before you get as antsy as I am.”

      Laney’s boots made a sucking sound as she led the horse through the pasture. Spring and early summer was rainy season in Montana. It was great for the soil and the vegetation, but terrible for her long, straight hair, which she kept tucked up under her taupe cowboy hat to try to avoid the frizzies.

      When she reached the rough-hewn log fence, she leaned against it and took in the blessings before her eyes.

      She had her own home on the huge Broward family homestead, complete with a large stable and plenty of pasture for her horses to graze. The white square-shaped clapboard farmhouse, circa 1930, was just the right size and suited her ideal of “organized simplicity.” Beyond, prairie grasses swayed gently as far as she could see. Farther still, a ridge of mountains jutted against the blue sky.

      But it was the air she loved the most. Breathe in clean, fresh Montana air and everything seemed right again. At least for a little while.

      Laney unhitched the fence gate and led Stella Rose out of the paddock. She was almost inside the barn when she heard tires crunching on the long gravel driveway.

      She looked up and saw Brooke approaching. Everyone she knew in Granger had a truck or an SUV and at least one horse. Brooke had all three, plus a Jeep, the vehicle that she was slowly driving into the clearing just to the left of the stable.

      “Hey,” Laney called out, patting her waist. Even though she was wearing jeans one size larger, she was oddly relieved that there was barely a bulge. It had become a habit to check and she was glad to know that even this far along, she still wasn’t showing.

      Keeping a firm grip on the reins, she drew Stella Rose to one side and patted her nose with her other hand to calm her. Although with her ranch hands coming and going, the horse was used to cars in close proximity, Laney wasn’t taking any chances. Horses startled easily, sometimes for reasons that only they knew.

      Brooke exited the car. “Hay is for horses,” she quipped, tossing her long curls over her shoulder.

      Laney rolled her eyes. “Ha-ha. You creative types have the corniest sense of humor.”

      Brooke, in jeans and an oversize yellow button-down shirt with a clay stain on it, put her hands on her slim hips. “That reminds me. Did I ever tell you the one about the elderly printmaker and the nude model?”

      Laney held up her hand. “No, and please don’t. I’m pregnant, remember? My stomach is very sensitive.”

      She loosened the cinch that secured the saddle. “Now enough with the jokes. Come help me get Stella Rose settled. She and I just finished a nice ride. It’ll be our last...until the baby comes.”

      At the thought of not riding her horses for another five months, something welled up in her throat. The further along she got in her pregnancy, the more risks there were with riding, and at her last visit, her doctor had ordered her to stop.

      Her eyes burned with tears and she turned so Brooke couldn’t see her face as she led Stella Rose away.

      Riding was her life, and although the safety of her baby was her number one priority now, the sacrifice still hurt. She just needed some time to get used to it.

      Back in the stall, Brooke’s hazel eyes flitted down to her abdomen. Laney wanted to squirm with unease. She guessed she’d have to get used to people looking at her stomach all the time, too.

      She led Stella Rose into her stall, unbridled her and put on her halter.

      Brooke followed. “Is everything okay? I haven’t seen you in a while and I’ve been worried.”

      Laney took off Stella Rose’s cinch and hung it on a hook outside the stall, warming at the sentiment. Her initial reaction to Brooke’s sudden marriage to Jameson had not been positive. However, she’d lived up to her role as the “neutral” and “quiet” one in the Broward family and had not said a word.

      Now she was glad she hadn’t voiced her opinion. If she had, she and Brooke would not be on their way to becoming good friends.

      Laney nodded. “Yes, I saw my OB-GYN last week and he says everything looks good.”

      “I’ll say it is. You’re not even showing yet,” Brooke said, admiringly.

      For Laney, not showing early in her pregnancy was a blessing. It had given her some time