by Maisey Yates
“True.”
And suddenly, this wasn’t enough. The joy that she had felt a moment ago was still there, but it had taken on a strange, sharp sensation. It made her feel like she was suffocating. Like she couldn’t breathe.
There was a desperation with it. A hunger. And she didn’t know how to satisfy it. Because it wasn’t enough just to sit here with him. Wasn’t enough just to talk to him. Suddenly, they weren’t close enough. And much like what he’d said just a moment ago, she couldn’t reconcile where they were right now with where they had been two days ago. The Honey and Jericho that had walked through the snow to this cabin were not the same two people that sat here now.
Or maybe they were. And that was the strangest part. That the transformation was so real. That it had actually just reshaped everything that she had believed about him, about herself. About her feelings. Or perhaps it had simply exposed what was already there. He had wanted her before. And she wanted him. It was just that they hadn’t been able to be honest enough about it because their worries about what other people might think got in the way.
And there was none of that here.
This was like a snow globe, its own separate world with a beautiful glass dome that kept the bad parts away. Their trauma, their pasts. All the people they might disappoint, the future, and what they could or couldn’t have in it. All of that. It was as if only they and this moment truly existed. Encircled by snow and magic and firelight. By an improbable Christmas tree and an improbable desire. Because outside of the space they were both...too them to ever make something work. That was just a fact. But here... Here it all seemed possible. And she wanted to seize hold of it. Wanted to grab it and hold it to her chest, claim it for herself, only for herself.
She felt wild with it. Selfish. And utterly and completely at peace with it.
Because he was hers. And this moment was hers.
And she wanted it to be naked.
She wanted him skin to skin. She wanted him inside of her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him then. The flavor of the wine lingering on his lips, and the desperation of her desire creating a palpable need that drove her. Made her feel wild.
She clung to him, and she didn’t know if she wanted him to feel what was inside of her, or if she never wanted him to know. If she didn’t even want him to get a peek at the profound, forever changing sensations that were rolling through her. Her desire was so deep. So raw and real that it touched places in her own soul that she had never seen before, and the idea of sharing it was terrifying. So all she did was kiss him. All she did was kiss him, because it was all that could be done. Because everything else felt uncertain. Because she didn’t even know what she wanted. Because she didn’t have names for the feelings that ebbed and flowed and grew and snaked themselves around her like vines or glitter, magic or a curse, she didn’t know. She took her shirt off and cast it to the side, then pushed her hand beneath the waist of his. His body was solid, hard and well muscled, and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when her fingertips grazed over his abs.
Because she had spent a lot of years fantasizing about this. About him, and emotion aside, there was just so much pent-up desire there.
No. There was no emotion aside, there never could be. And that had been her biggest mistake. Thinking that desire and emotion did not have to exist together. Thinking that she could simply ignore emotion. That she did not have to take it on board. Believing that she could have sex and go back to seeing him as she had done before, or maybe even with her attraction to him neatly removed, having been explored.
No. Instead, everything had gotten tangled together, and there was no going back to seeing him any other way besides this. Because it wasn’t separate.
This need inside of her, the ache in her chest, the man that he was. It wasn’t separate. And it never could be.
She had been a fool for thinking so. For thinking that common sense and bird field guides and a hard limit on time could fix this thing. Could help them make sense of it and be sensible with it.
But there was no sense to be found here. It was only need.
It was only this.
But she tried to focus on the feel of him beneath her hands, tried to focus on his body, because at least while that overwhelmed, it was not as sharp as the rest.
She pushed his shirt up and off, moving her hands over his chest, down his stomach and back up again. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Ran her hands over his short hair, down his muscled back as she tasted him. As she angled her head and took a deep breath, meeting the thrust of his tongue with enthusiasm.
He had taken her bra off and she hadn’t even noticed, not until one large hand came up to palm her naked breasts.
She shivered.
And she arched into him, wanting more. Craving more.
She found herself laid back against the soft furs, and he was over her, and she loved the feel of his body against hers. Luxuriating in it as he removed the rest of their clothes. And then suddenly, she got that feeling of being overwhelmed again. Of deep need that demolished her sanity. All the energy building inside of her propelled her forward, and she sat up, pressing her hands against his shoulders and pushing him back.
She moved so that she was over him, leaning over and kissing him hard, her heart hammering, threatening to beat right outside her chest. She ached between her legs. Felt hollow with her need for him. She reached over for his jeans and happily found his wallet and a condom inside.
She tore it open, then with shaking and uncertain fingers, wrapped her hand around the base of his arousal as she rolled the protection over him with deep concentration.
Then she positioned herself over his body, taking him in slowly, a moan of satisfaction rising in her throat as she did.
“Jericho,” she whispered.
His hands came up and gripped her hips, his hold bruising, but she loved it.
She began to ride him. Establishing a rhythm that pleased them both, watching as the cords in his neck went tight with his need for her. She shivered. And nearly came right then, just from watching his pleasure.
From watching the effect that she had on him. He arched up into her, thrusting up, changing the tempo, the pace and the strength of it. She bowed over, grabbing hold of his face and kissing him on the mouth, shattering as her orgasm overtook her, wave after wave of pleasure that blended into his as he shouted his release, the two of them shaking and trembling in the aftermath.
Then he gathered her close, swept the cheese platter to the side and wrapped them up in the furs.
She reached out and grabbed a cracker, chewing on the end as he held her close.
Because hopefully focusing on that would keep the tears at bay. Would keep her from dissolving completely.
How could they ever go back?
There was no going back, that much she knew. But maybe they could go forward and find a new shape. A new evolution. That was what this was, after all. A different sort of shape than what they’d been before. So no, they would never be able to be the exact thing they had been previously. But maybe they could find what Honey and Jericho after sex looked like. After baths and cheese platters and sharing secrets.
They had to. There was no other choice. She owned part of the winery now.
She had what she wanted.
Yet she felt hollow. A winery and a saltine cracker were not going to fix that.
Ten
When Jericho woke up the next morning, he could see that the sky was clear outside the window.
He was lying on the floor wrapped up in fur and Honey, still feeling the aftereffects of the night before. But he was going to have to check the weather.
He got up and put his pants on, then went out for his coat. He did his best to get out of the house without disturbing Honey. Outside it was completely quiet. Still. The s
un was shining now, making it look like diamonds had been scattered across the surface of the undisturbed snow. The only dents had been made by their footprints last night when they went to get the Christmas tree.
It was bright today, and likely it would bring a little bit of snowmelt along with it.
It was Christmas Eve. He wondered if that meant there would be people coming to plow the roads or not.
He hiked out to the road, and there was a snowplow. There were also a few ODOT workers standing around.
“Hey,” Jericho said to the first man, who was wearing a heavy coat and a bright yellow vest. “This is my truck,” he said. “What are the odds that he gets out today?”
“We’ll have this cleared within a couple of hours,” the guy said.
“Thanks. It doesn’t start well. Would I be able to get a tow truck out here you think?”
“Everything is eased up so much, and we’re expecting highs to hit the fifties today. So this should be your window.”
“Thanks,” Jericho said.
He hiked back over to the house, where Honey was just beginning to stir.
“Looks like we’ll be leaving today,” he said.
She looked... Well, she looked stricken. But she didn’t say anything. They started the task of putting everything in the house back the way they’d found it.
Jericho wrote a note with his contact information, asking that the owners tabulate the cost of what they had used and send him a bill. Plus charge whatever occupancy fees they normally did.
They looked at the tree.
“I guess we have to take it down. And put everything back.”
It was a lot less festive than putting it up had been.
But they had everything restored to its rightful place, and he walked back up to the road to find his truck had had the snow cleared out from around it.
They could go.
“You ready?”
She nodded slowly. “Jericho... I’m not going to Lake Oswego.”
He froze.
“All right.”
“I think you already knew that. You know, what with the offer of the winery and all.”
“Well, yeah.”
“But I would like to go to Christmas with you. For... For the Daltons and all that.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, that’s...good of you.”
“It’s not good of me. I want to go with you. This is going to be super... Super weird for you. Wouldn’t you like to have a friend with you?”
“Yeah,” he said. “A friend.”
Honey was his friend. But the word felt limp in comparison to what they’d been here. Where they were snowbound and hot as fire anyway. Where they’d talked and made love and decorated the first Christmas tree he’d touched since he was sixteen.
A friend.
He supposed that’s how it would have to be explained to Jackson and Creed when it came up. Because it would come up.
As soon as they hit civilization, their phones were going to go crazy.
They’d been out of communication for nearly three days.
It suddenly felt like longer, and a lot less time all at once. It would be like walking through a veil. Where everything changed when they got back to civilization. And she wanted to go with him to see the Daltons.
He helped her carry her bags through the woods, back to the truck.
And when they climbed inside, it all felt a little bit too modern.
She laughed. “I’m not going to know what to do when a heater just comes on.”
It was funny the way her mind tracked with his. For a minute, he wondered if the engine would even turn over, but it did. And it was a strange little string of miracles, if he was honest. From the vacation rental down to this.
I mean, it made him question why they had to be caught in the snowstorm in the first place, but everything that had happened since had a strange sort of charmed feeling to it. He would’ve called it fate if he believed in things like that.
Hell, he couldn’t actually fathom that fate had led him to cozy up with his friends’ sister for a few nights of pleasure. Hell, one night. Hadn’t been enough. But it was done now. It was done now because it had to be.
The heater got going and the only sound was the air, the tires on the newly plowed and graveled road and the engine.
They had talked easily at the vacation rental, but neither of them seemed to know what to say now.
Now it seemed like...
“When do you think we will have service?” She was looking down at her phone.
“I have no idea. I didn’t know there was as big of a dead zone out here as there is.”
“Oh,” she said, tapping her fingers on the door.
“Right.”
“So.”
They said nothing for another whole minute.
“What if... What if we kept on doing it. You know, just while we’re away,” she continued.
He looked over at her, and she was staring fixedly out the window.
“Are you looking for birds out there?”
“No,” she said, looking back at him. “I just... Yeah I... Maybe we should... Keep doing it. Yeah. Don’t you think that would be fun?”
“Fun,” he echoed.
“Yeah. Fun. Real fun.”
“Look,” she said. “If you don’t want to do it.”
“No. I don’t want to make a bigger mess out of this than we already have. At least before we came to the cabin, we would fight when we were sitting together in a car. Now we can barely speak a sentence to each other.”
“That’s a very coherent sentence,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said.
“I mean... I just can’t see being at the Dalton place and not doing it.”
“We should have just gone back.”
“No. Let’s do this.” She slapped her hand on her thighs. “We’re survivalists.”
“Right.”
“We are. And... I still feel bad that I never really... That I didn’t realize what a big thing it was. You finding out that Hank never knew about you. I didn’t really think about it. And I’m embarrassed. And if I can help you through it any way, I want to do that.”
“And you want to get laid,” he said, unable to keep the smile from curving his lips, even though mostly the entire topic wasn’t that amusing to him.
“Well, I’m not dead below the waist. Or anywhere, for that matter. So all right. Maybe I want more.”
More.
More.
He tried not to let that word resonate too much inside of him. Because she meant more sex, and more sex was all it could be. More sex wasn’t what it should be, but still.
More.
More people in his family. And with that, just more complication in general. Yeah, initially he thought he’d show up and flaunt his wealth. His success. And now he was...bringing a girl home to meet his folks. Well, his dad anyway. His father.
Tammy Dalton was not his mother. Tammy Dalton was the reason his life had gone the way that it had.
He wasn’t going to let himself get too bitter about it. Mostly because, even though what Tammy had done was wrong, Hank had committed the first wrong, and he didn’t know if a person was responsible for being perfect in response to something like that.
Still. She was just the woman who had paid his mother off and made her go away. Who had lied to her husband about the extent of his misdeeds for all those years.
“Looks like we’ll make it in time for Christmas Eve dinner.”
The rest... He wasn’t going to think about.
It took another couple of hours to get up to the compound, and by the time they did, they had cell service. He could call and let the Daltons know he was coming, but the idea of speaking to them on the phone felt...wrong somehow. He didn’t wa
nt to answer questions about where he’d been. He had directions to the cabin that was his for the next couple of days, and he went straight there.
“I guess dinner is kind of a formal affair,” he said. “I don’t think your lingerie is going to cut it.”
“Oh, I have something,” she said. “I was prepared for the fanciness of Lake Oswego.”
She was a dark horse, was Honey Cooper. And that was for certain.
The cabin itself was small but luxurious compared to where they’d just been. It had all the modern amenities, hypermodern even. A steam shower, not a wood sauna, and towel warmers and lights. There were lights. He may have stopped and flipped the switch off and on a couple of times.
“What are you doing?” Honey asked.
“Aren’t you amazed by the electricity?”
“I’m not that far gone,” she said.
“Have you looked at your phone yet?”
“No,” she said, wincing. “I was expecting to get chewed out by my dad and my brothers for my disappearing act, and that was when I just thought I was going up to Lake Oswego and would be able to contact them that same day. Though I guess... At least... At least I’m not moving.”
“Should we get dressed for dinner?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she replied.
She disappeared off into one of the other bedrooms, which he thought was interesting, considering she was the one who had suggested they keep things up. Not that he was complaining. And he couldn’t stop himself from imagining her getting undressed now. Peeling her clothes off, revealing her beautiful body.
He gritted his teeth, then went to the other bedroom with his suitcase and took out the suit that he brought for the occasion. He dressed and put a black cowboy hat on his head. And he figured he probably looked more rodeo royalty than Hank Dalton did on a good day.
He went out to the living room, and Honey still hadn’t appeared. He checked his watch, waiting.
And then she emerged, wearing a figure-hugging red dress, her hair spilling over her shoulders in a curled cascade. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Honey in makeup, the effect dramatically highlighting all the things about her that were already beautiful.