Mara McBain by McCade's Way

just couldn’t bring myself to bob it when everyone else did.”
    “Yeah, me neither,” Trey deadpanned.
    Gen laughed and playfully smacked his chest. Trey looked down and then back at her.
    “Did you just hit me?”
    She stopped breathing. Searching his face she prayed for him to crack a smile. Finally she saw the sparkle in his eyes that he couldn’t hide. She would’ve fallen to her knees in gratitude if she hadn’t been holding on to his waist. Leaning forward, she kissed the spot. He grinned.
    “All better?” she asked.
    “Much,” he agreed, playing with her hair again. “Let’s wrap this up so we can head to bed, Mrs. McCade.”
    Smiling to herself, Gen hastily pulled a bowl down from the cupboard and scraped the apples into it. Covering and setting it aside, she started dishwater.
    “Just let 'em soak.”
    Hesitating, she tucked the bread pans down into the sudsy water and looked back at her husband. He’d sat the apples in the refrigerator and was standing in the doorway. He turned off the kitchen light and crooked a finger at her. Shaking her head, she shut off the water and crossed the room wiping her hands on her skirt. He took her hand and headed up the stairs.
     
    Gen wrapped her arms up around him and stroked his broad shoulders as her husband pressed her into the pillows, nuzzling the side of her neck.
    “I would’ve never guessed this would become my favorite part of the day,” she murmured, kissing his ear.
    Trey pushed up to look down at her. She felt the blush start to creep over her body at his stare. She was grateful when his eyes dropped.
    “Exactly which part is your favorite,” he asked, pushing her nightgown aside.
    She closed her eyes as his mouth closed around a nipple. Pressing her lips into his hair, she struggled to stifle the little whimpers that he was dragging from her.
    “Is it that, or maybe this?” he mumbled, shifting to rub his hot arousal against her.
    “Please. They’ll hear,” she whispered even as her body writhed under him.
    “Baby, this is my house. I don’t give a damn what they hear,” he said with a low chuckle. “Every house makes sounds. If they don’t like the ones in mine they can find somewhere else to sleep.”
     

Chapter Six
    The crisp smell of autumn assailed her nostrils as Gen crossed the yard, her hand clasped in Trey’s warm grasp. Brutus trailed behind. She’d just been in the process of starting breakfast when her husband had stuck his head in the backdoor and beckoned to her. It felt so good to escape the confines of the house. She bit her lip in shame at the thought. After living in the shantytown, a solid roof over her head was something she was never going to take for granted again, but there was still that little part of her that whispered even a gilded cage could begin to feel like a prison.
    The chicken coop’s gloom carried unexpected warmth as they stepped inside. She smiled in delight at a tub of fluffy chicks under a warming lamp. Trey cleared his throat and she looked up at him. He looked uncomfortable.
    “I shouldn’t have kept you cooped up in the house. My mama would’ve never stood for that,” he said, looking somewhere over her head. He cleared his throat again. “It’d be best if you didn’t go too far into the woods, not knowing the area and all. You said Brute was good company. I’d like it if you’d take him with you if you leave the yard.”
    Peeking up into the rafters in search of what he was finding so fascinating, Gen struggled to find the right words. Why did the man have to find yes, sir so offensive when sometimes it was the only answer that applied? Yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir. I just want to go outside, warden sir. She giggled, and his head jerked down. She bit her lip. His brows drew together over his strong nose, and she wondered how he could say he was nothing to look at. She’d never get tired of the strong lines of her husband’s face.
    “Thank you.”
    His frown deepened, and she