Free Train Station Bride by Holly Bush

a thigh and pulled her knee up and around his hip and eased into her with one, long, slow stroke. His eyes fluttered, and he hummed a contented murmur as he sunk into her body.
    They were like chocolate truffles and champagne, Julia thought. Two unrelated items, no one dreamed would go together. But they did. Edgy pings of bubbles against creamy softness. She opened her eyes and tilted her head back to see her husband’s face. Which was he? Candy or champagne? Both, she decided. He was staring at her, questions in his gaze. Julia put her hands on his cheeks, smoothly shaved, and kissed him, touching her tongue to his.
    Apparently it was all the answer he needed. Jake slid himself in and out of her body and ran his knuckles against the side of her breast and down to her waist. He linked his fingers with hers and held her hand against the pillow beside her head. The tide of completion seemed to rush at him, and his tempo increased. Julia met him halfway with every thrust. She trailed the palms of her feet over his calves, and Jake groaned and settled on her.
    As her breathing stilled, Julia ran her hands up Jake’s back. Maybe Eustace was right. Things were going to work out just fine. Had someone told her yesterday she’d be in bed with a giant man and loving every minute of it, she’d have sworn they were insane. The mousy, fat, spinster Crawford girl had made love to a gorgeous man. Her husband. A shiver of pleasure and surprise at her response to Jake’s touch trailed down her arms.
    Jake rolled on his side. He propped himself on one elbow beside her. “Are you cold?”
    Julia smiled shyly. “Not at all.”
    He trailed a finger down her cheek and twisted it in her hair. “That was pretty wonderful from my point of view.”
    Her lashes dropped half way. She was desirable, a vixen, a temptress.
    “Perfectly wonderful. I think we may suit admirably, Mr. Shelling.”
    “No question about that, Mrs. Shelling. No question at all,” Jake said and stared at her.
    * * *
    Julia awoke as the sun streamed in her window. Jake was not there. They had slept together all night. She washed and rooted through clothes for something cool and suitable for life on a farm. She had nothing. Julia pulled on the plainest dress she owned over one petticoat. It was white eyelet with flounces of ruffles with a high neck and full sleeves that narrowed to tight cuffs. Julia struggled with the eight covered buttons on each wrist. She brushed out her hair and pulled it into a matching ribbon. She pinched her cheeks and went down stairs. Jake walked in the backdoor as she entered the kitchen. Flossie was at the table, rolling out bread dough.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were here already. What time is it?” Julia asked.
    “Nearly eight o’clock.” Flossie looked up from her kneading and smiled. “I got here about six-thirty. Wanted to let you sleep in your first day. I just went ahead and started, hope you don’t mind.”
    “Were you up early as well?” Julia asked Jake as she seated herself.
    Jake smiled. “Sunrise. I wanted to let you sleep.”
    “Oh,” she said. She had awoken in the middle of the night as Jake kissed her neck and cupped her breast. Their lovemaking had been frantic, leaving them both panting. She had fallen back asleep sprawled across him.
    Jake poured himself a cup of coffee, walked to her and kissed her on the lips. Her face heated with a blush. She couldn’t look at Flossie. He kissed her again and then pulled out a chair and pushed it close to straddle it beside her.
    “Want some coffee?” he asked.
    “I’ll get it.” Julia stared at her husband. He looked smug. And cocky. And adorable for a man twice her size. She grinned, plopped her hand on her chin and rolled her eyes.
    “I’m right here. Still in the kitchen if you two hadn’t noticed,” Flossie said.
    Without turning from Julia’s face, Jake answered his sister. “We know.”
    Julia dropped her head and cleared her throat. “I’ve