All The Way

He was back. Something in her heart leaped, but she was too stubborn to let it show. He always left her as casually as though she were one of the lambs she was about to sell off. But that didn’t stop her from going giddy with pleasure whenever he returned.

Liv finally got the animal inoculated and she laughed with relief. The last one. She already had a buyer for the herd, so that was that. She finally sat up to look for Hunter.

“My money was on you,” he said, sauntering toward her, wearing that grin.

He was so handsome. Liv drank in the look of him. He still wore his black hair long. He revered his Navajo ancestors, the warriors who had once fearlessly taken on Kit Carson at Canyon de Chelly, though he’d always hated being shoved from his home and onto this reservation against his will. Now his hair shifted against his shoulders, more from his movement than the windless air. His cheekbones were arrogant slashes, and his eyes were an incredible blue.

She never got tired of looking at him, and she never stopped wanting to touch him. Sometimes she squeezed it in, a quick, friendly hug or a touch of her hand to his knee. But he always got so skittish whenever she did that. Kiki said it was because he wanted her, too, but neither of them could quite figure out why he never did anything about it.

She was nearly eighteen now, hardly a child any longer—especially after living on her own this past year since Ama had died.

“You don’t have any money,” she said, standing to brush the dust off her bare legs. She was going to fix this problem between them, too, before she went to Flagstaff. “Anyway, that’s it for the herd. You’re next. It’s time to fish or cut bait, Hunter. I’m cleaning up my past here.”

That fierce heat came to his eyes, the look she loved so much. Liv tingled inside. Now that they might finally be together, she found that she was also a little terrified.

She fought against the fear with bravado and started to move toward him. “I love you. I want to be with you. I want to take something away from this place when I go. And I want it to be you. You’re the very best memory of the Res that I have.”

She reached for the hem of her T-shirt. She was shaking, wondering if she dared to do it, to just yank it over her head and bare herself to him to find out what he would do about it. She looked up into those midnight-blue eyes, as sharp as glass now. “Are you going to stop me, Hunter? Don’t. I have a good head of steam up here.”

He made a choking sound but said nothing. There was only promise in his eyes.

She tugged the shirt over her head. The hot, arid air licked her skin. Maybe it was that, the kiss of the sun, or maybe it was the fact that she was being so incredibly brazen. Maybe it was everything tied into one, but she felt her nipples tighten, almost hurting. If he turned away from her now, Liv knew she would die.

She held her breath, waiting for an interminable time. Then he brought his hands up almost reverently and closed them over her breasts. She cried out, a sound of relief and release, then she flung herself at him. She jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist and found his mouth with hers.

Finally, finally. It was all she could think. Oh, how she loved him! She’d loved him since she was twelve years old.

They fell together into the dirt, ripping at each other’s clothing, and suddenly Liv was no longer shy or frightened at all. She was exhilarated, almost weeping with the joy of it. When he finally found his way inside her, she whimpered his name and rode with him, with every thrust, every glorious beat of his body connecting with hers. Then they lay together in the dust, spent and naked, their hearts rioting.

When she found her air again, Liv just came out and asked him. “How long are you staying this time?”

He hesitated for the barest beat. “I have to be in New Mexico tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Why?”

“I’m joining the Army.”

Her stomach dove. “Write me as soon as you get there. Give me your address so I know where you are. Send it general delivery to Flag. I’ll pick it up there.”

“I will.” He wrapped his arms a little more tightly around her. “Livie.”

She rubbed her cheek against his chest, sensing what was coming, trying to savor all the good she could manage before the bad crept in again.

“I love you,” he said. “And you’re the only person who’s ever loved me back.”

She wanted to argue that it wasn’t true, but she was afraid it was. “We’re soul mates,” she murmured. It was a game they had played before. “Two of a kind. Peas in a pod.”

“I’ll always be there for you.”

“I might not always need you to be.” She couldn’t resist the barb. He was leaving again—so soon.

“So when that happens, I’ll go and leave you alone.”

The possibility hurt too deep for words. Liv hugged him fiercely, suddenly. “Are you sorry we did this?”

“I should be.” He kissed her hair. “But no.”

“I’m old enough now to make my own choices.”

“Well, you sure started out with a bang.”

She laughed, her mouth against his skin again. “One more time before you have to go.”

“I’m not going until tomorrow.”

“Then love me all night.”

She rolled on top of him. They didn’t make it inside until dark fell over the desert and small, nocturnal animals began rustling through the tufted rabbitbrush. Then they went into the hogan, their arms still wrapped around each other.

When Liv woke the next morning, he was gone again. But he left a note this time, promising that he would find her in Flagstaff the first time he was on leave.

Liv crushed it in her fist and dropped it into her morning fire.

Chapter 2

His doctor was a small man with a nervous Adam’s apple. Watching the thing bob up and down was beginning to irritate Hunter in a big way.

“Just say whatever it is you’re trying to say,” he warned the man. His voice was still vaguely raspy from the effects of yesterday’s anesthesia. He was in pain.

“I simply can’t clear you to get behind the wheel of a race car in four hours.” The doctor stepped back quickly at the change in Hunter’s eyes, something that could only be likened to a sudden, solar flare.

“Explain to me why I need your permission.”

“I’m your doctor—”

“Do better than that.”

“You had surgery for a ruptured spleen twelve hours ago!”

Hunter made a sound of disgust. “I’m driving.”

“Actually,” said Pritchard Spikes, his longtime friend and team owner, “you’re not.”

“It’s our season! Are you going to throw it away over some stitches?”

“The stitches don’t bother me too much.” Pritch poured a cup of water from the jug on the nightstand in Hunter’s hospital room. “But throw in the fact that you’re now spleenless—and it’s going to take even you some time to adjust to that—I’m not going to let you drive my car.”

“Don’t overlook the seriousness of four broken ribs and a concussion,” the doctor warned hastily.