The Country Rose

Chapter 17

A/N: Celebrating a great "End of Blog Book Tour" of Tame the Beast, with a brand new cover for The Country Rose and a much needed chapter update! I hope you enjoy! Warning: chapter was only proofed once.

Chapter 17

Over the last few weeks, Rose had slipped easily into a steady routine. Trail run in the morning as the sun rose, breakfast with John, followed by helping him tend to Gran's garden. On occasion, she would ride with him to Marburg to stock up on supplies their little town didn't keep on the shelves. When she wasn't helping her grandpa around the home or listening to his endless stories, Rose was at Rifle Ranch. Just as she was now.

Seated on Austen's porch with Gran's easel posted in front of her, Rose took in the details of the land. She wanted to preserve every line and shape and color on the canvas before her. It would be her gift to Austen, the only thank you he seemed willing to accept for the hours she spent riding Tilly.

Each stroke of the paintbrush filled Rose with a mixture of feelings, and all conflicting. Something about Briarville felt like home. Perhaps the sentiment sprung from the fact that, in another life, it could have been.

Time was moving too fast and in a few short weeks, Rose would be back on the road, as promised, to spend the last two weeks of summer break with her mom and aunts. She should've been excited for her final year at Beaumont University. The only problem was, she didn't want to leave.

As the sun began to set, Rose's mind continued to wonder how she would ever be able to go home without leaving her heart in Briarville. She was so lost in her thoughts she almost jumped when Austen approached her from behind.

"Whoo there," he said with a laugh as he joined her on the little stool. His strong legs settled along side hers, coaxing her back to rest against his chest. "It's just me."

"Yes, but last time I saw you, you were headed into the stables with Hades."

Austen laughed into her neck, sending teasing chills down her spine. "It's not my fault your nose was practically in your painting. It looks amazing, by the way."

Rose felt her cheeks warm as she applied another stroke of deep red across the canvas. "Thanks. It was supposed to be your ranch at sunrise, but the sky is so pretty right now, I can't resist adding a few touches."

"Add away," he whispered. His hands slid across her legs, playing with the hem of her shorts. "As long as I get to add a few touches of my own."

Rose resisted a smile as she wiggled on the edge of the stool and away from his wandering fingers. "Wait until I'm finished."

"And if I can't wait?" He pressed a kiss in the crook of her neck. The toe of his boots glided along the inside of her bare feet, sliding her legs apart and trapping her in his embrace. "I've watched you sit on my porch all day, and all I could think was what would it take to break such perfect concentration."

Rose gasped as his fingers slipped beneath the band of her cotton shorts. Her brush skidded across the canvas, sending a stroke of red paint off its course.

Austen's deep chuckle rumbled in her ear. "Don't stop."

"I won't if you won't," she said shamelessly.

It didn't take long for him to find just the right spot. Each stroke, each brush of his fingers sent her mind soaring beyond the canvas. She wanted to let the paints fall to the floor and run her nails through his hair as he teased her. But the son of a witch wasn't that nice, and each time her brush left the canvas and she'd press into his touch, the devil would stop, leaving her needier than before.