by CM Foss
When I came back down to the present, and it was a long way, I opened my eyes to see Patrick over me, one side of his perfect mouth raised in a smile.
“That was so beautiful,” he said, making me blush and avert my eyes. His hand came up, and with one finger he turned my chin so I could look at him again. “You are so beautiful.”
Unable to take any more sentiment, I ran my fingers through his dark hair, gripping it and pulling him down to my kiss. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he slowly, very slowly entered me, filling me. I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax around him.
He paused in his movement and raised his head. “Are you okay?” Concern was etched on his face.
I nodded and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “Yeah. More than.”
He grinned, and his lips fell to mine once more while his hips began to move in a slow and torturous rhythm. We breathed together, lips moving and tongues warring, wrapped up in each other, as close as two people could possibly get. I couldn’t get enough of the feel of him. And not just inside me, though that was totally delicious. It was the heat of his skin and the ridges of his muscles. The softness of his hair and roughness of his jaw. My hands roamed everywhere, and so did his, once more bringing me to the brink of ecstasy before we were both catapulted into bliss together, capturing each other’s cries within our kiss.
After dropping a few more kisses on my face, Patrick lifted himself off and went into the bathroom to clean up. I lay there chewing on a fingernail, wondering what was next, how to respond, but he returned quickly and leapt back on the bed, pulling the covers out from under me and wrapping them around us. Postcoital naked snuggling, hot and dirty and comforting all at the same time.
It felt so good to be held in his arms. I sighed, relaxing into his embrace, letting any thoughts I’d been about to have just drift away. Thinking was not what this was about.
“Question,” he whispered into my hair.
“Hmmm,” I mumbled sleepily.
“How many more of those things do you have?”
I opened one eye to catch him grinning wickedly.
“What things? Condoms or orgasms?”
He shrugged. “Both, actually.”
I grinned back. “Probably more than you can take.”
He laughed loudly and pinched my side, making me giggle and squirm.
“Oh I do love a challenge.”
Chapter 8
Patrick
“You have to be motherfucking kidding me.” I glared at Ivy, who looked sweet and sexy in her ripped jeans and bare feet, despite my growing irritation. Now. Now I wanted a cigarette.
“I’m not,” she said, stubbornly. “I don’t see why you need my number. You’re moving to New York. I live here. This was wonderful, but that’s it. We live in the real world. Or I do, anyway. If you ever come back through or I, for some odd reason, end up in New York, I’m sure we’ll look each other up. But we’re not really friends, not together, not… really anything.”
I inhaled deeply, pissed off but also seeing her point. I had no answers. But I certainly didn’t like hers.
“I just… I want to stay in touch with you. How can we just move on like nothing happened? So much… happened.” Didn’t it? I was such a pussy.
She didn’t answer but turned back to the stove where bacon was sizzling in a pan, poking at it uncomfortably. We’d been up all night, essentially, putting a serious dent in her condom and orgasm supply. We woke after a short nap to sunlight streaming through the windows turning Ivy’s pale locks into golden waves cascading over the pillows. I’d played with them for a while, watching the light reflect off all the different shades of blond until she stirred, rolling over sleepily. Then I concentrated on playing with other parts of her again.
But I was leaving and she had work to do, so unfortunately we couldn’t do what I wanted, which was to spend the day in bed together. A week in bed together. And forever clearly wasn’t going to happen.
So when I pulled out my phone to enter in her contact information, she shut me down. For all intents and purposes, we’d never see each other again. But damn if that just didn’t sit right with me.
“Patrick”—she sighed, shoulders slumping over the counter—“I’ve never had such a great night in my life. Honestly. But now I have to move on, and if I’m talking to you ten hours away or texting you, how am I supposed to do that? And how are you? You have work and a life to build that just doesn’t include me and mine.”
I walked up behind her, letting my hand move around to press against her stomach, pulling her back to me. I kissed her neck and sighed into her hair. The weight of her against my chest was way too comforting.
“I just want to go on record that I’m against this idea. But I can’t force you into anything you don’t want.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
I kissed her neck again. “And you’re very frustrating.” She snorted softly and I kissed the other side. “And very beautiful.” Her head dropped to the side.
I reached over and flicked off the stove. She turned in my arms with an eyebrow raised and her smart mouth about to say something that would undoubtedly piss me off further, but I stopped her with a kiss. One that she’d hopefully never forget because I sure as hell wouldn’t. She gave in easily, sighing into me, her body melting.
Just as I was about to pick her up and cart her back to bed, a knock at the door startled us apart. It swung open to reveal a short, plump, middle-aged woman with frizzy gray hair and a wide, cheerful grin. There was a mischievous glint to her round blue eyes, and I instantly liked her.
“Well, well,” she said. “I can’t say this was what I was expecting when I saw that fancy little car parked out there.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder.
I looked from her to Ivy, who was blushing slightly. I grinned and walked over to the woman.
“Hi, I’m Patrick.”
She reached out and took my hand.
“I’m Connie. You make good use of all those condoms?”
My eyes widened and I looked back to Ivy, whose face was buried in her hands, shoulders shaking as she dropped to her knees laughing. I turned back to Connie.
“Yes, ma’am. I did.”
Connie let out a bark of laughter and patted my shoulder. “You’ll do.” She leaned around me. “Ivy, hon, just wanted to let you know that Luke and Matt are here.” She winked at me. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Wait. Why Matt?” Ivy called from the floor, flat on her back.
“He’s working for Luke now. He didn’t tell you?”
From the groan Ivy let out, I gathered he didn’t.
Connie shook her head and muttered something about bad social skills, then she spun around and marched off. I stared after her for a second.
When I turned back around, Ivy was lying with one arm slung over her eyes. I stepped over and stood above her, my feet on either side of her waist. Reaching down, I lifted her arm off her face.
“I’m scarred for life,” she said as she wiped the leftover tears of mirth from her eyes.
I nodded. “I kind of am too.”
Her gaze met mine. “I have to go. I’m sorry. I forgot the vet was coming to ultrasound.”
I lifted her to her feet and kissed her nose. “That’s okay. Can I come watch?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’d like to see how it all works.”
Another smile lit her face. “Well all right, doctor. You’re about to get a lesson on how your meat looks from the inside.”
“What?”
She patted my chest. “Follow me.”
Of course, I scrambled to catch up.
Ivy
“You ready to have your world changed again?” I called over my shoulder.
“I’m not sure I can handle much more.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I haven’t even known you for twenty-four hours.”
I snorted to myself. “It sounds crazy when you spell it out like that.”
“It is crazy,” he muttered.
I shrugged.
Patrick jogged up beside me and linked our hands together. I stiffened slightly, unsure of the intimacy of his gesture.
“Relax,” he said quietly. “I’ll let go when we get near people. But I only have a little more time with you. I’d like to utilize it.”
“Waste not?” I asked.
“Exactly.”
I squeezed his hand and relaxed into his side as we walked. It wasn’t like I was embarrassed to be seen with him, but it opened up a whole lot of questions in our small town that I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer. Actually I was very sure that I did not. Plus Matt was there. That was too much. I pulled away as we neared the barn, and my whole body felt cold from the loss. I could also sense Patrick’s irritation. Or resignation. Maybe both.
My point was a strong one though. I was nothing if not a realist. It made no sense to prolong our relationship beyond the next couple of hours. The fact that the relationship barely existed and made no sense in the first place did not escape me.
“Hey, Luke,” I called out as we approached the veterinarian’s large white truck, where he was pulling out equipment. Luke was somewhere in his forties, with longish gray hair he kept pulled into a low ponytail I’d never understand. And he wore shorts year-round. Otherwise, he was tall and lanky and on the good-looking side. I called him a high-tech hippie because by looking at him you’d think he rode a bike year round and lived off the grid. Which was partly true, but he was also up to speed on all the latest technological advances in beef genetics and veterinary care.
I introduced him to Patrick, and the men shook hands. I so often had guests when Luke was there he didn’t seem to notice the oddity of a single one on a Tuesday. But Matt and Patrick had briefly met yesterday during the birthing debacle, and he was clearly very curious as to what was going on. I tried to deflect his glances and pretend that nothing was amiss. As a vet tech, he was pretty busy carrying out Luke’s orders and walking back and forth between the truck and our work area for various items, so it was easy to ignore him.
Of course, Patrick jumped right in asking questions. Everything from what kind of equipment Luke used to the differences between animals to insurance and everything between. I just stood back and watched the interaction with amusement. Luke was a man of few words, and he looked slightly taken aback by the onslaught of questions, but I loved seeing Patrick’s passion for the details. I could see the early med student in him peeking through. The one that was still anxious to learn and full of wonderment before bureaucracy and humanity, or lack thereof, disillusioned him.
The four of us went out to the working corrals where Mr. Moto was waiting in the chute with some of his offspring nearby. With everyone’s assistance, we ultrasounded their sides along their ribs, one by one recording the data of pictures and measurements. Very simply, the rib eye.
Patrick watched the screen and before long caught on, jumping in to help as well. It was funny to watch him slog around in his once-shiny loafers, but he didn’t even seem to care that they were yet another step closer to ruination. Or maybe well past it.
When all the information was gathered, logged, and prepared to send off to potential breeders who wanted to know exactly the quality of meat they’d be getting out of their investment, I asked Luke to help me with a few other issues.
It only took a few minutes for him to check on one of the goat’s teats, which made Patrick grin and wink at me, and help unclog it, giving me some herbs to prevent infection. I tried to never give them anything pharmaceutical unless absolutely necessary because it freaked me out to drink their milk after that. Since they’d been in my care for the past couple of years, I fortunately hadn’t had to do it often.
Then he did a lameness evaluation on one of the other bulls, drawing blood and taking a quick X-ray to rule out anything major. Matt assisted as necessary and eyed us when he wasn’t busy. Patrick grew more and more silent as time flew on, and soon Luke was packing up with a promise to look Patrick up next time he was in New York. As much as I had zero desire to head back into the big city, I’d probably pay good money to see that.
Matt hesitated before climbing into the passenger seat, taking my elbow, and pulling me aside. I sighed inwardly because… I didn’t wanna.
“Thanks for your help today,” I said cheerfully and dismissively. Well, I tried anyway.
“Who is this guy?” he asked, nodding toward Patrick who was still chatting to Luke.
“He’s a guest.” I shrugged.
Matt folded his arms in front of his chest. “Really.” He didn’t even ask it as a question.
“Yes, really. And it’s not really any of your business anyway.”
“I don’t get you,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, well, not many do.” I shrugged.
“I just… I had a nice time with you the other night. I was kind of hoping for another shot.”
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. “Listen, you’re great, and I’d love to have you as a friend. But I’m in no way interested in a relationship with anyone, let alone someone who clearly has a history with a certain Emily in town.”
His brows drew together in confusion. “Emily? What about Emily?”
Now I folded my arms across my chest and pursed my lips at him.
He held his hands in the air. “I’ve known Emily since we were kids. There’s nothing going on.”
“Yeah, I don’t believe that. You probably don’t either. And she definitely doesn’t.” I patted his chest as I walked away. “But you should do something about it. She seems like the type you shouldn’t let get away.”
I headed over and nudged Patrick with my shoulder, gesturing toward my house with a nod of my head as we waved Luke and Matt off. I knew he needed to get going pretty soon, and I didn’t want to say good-bye in the middle of the barn. He followed me in silence, but I felt him watching me the entire walk.
When I got inside, I kicked off my boots so I could clean up the mess in my kitchen we’d left behind. Fortunately the bacon was still good—no one should ever waste bacon—and I set the slices out to drain, then placed the pan outside for Dimple who ran up to lick it clean. When I walked back in, Patrick was at the sink, wearing my pink rubber gloves again and scrubbing dishes. I watched him with a smile. It was weird how I was already going to miss the sight of him in my kitchen. He was also barefoot, and there was something sexy about a man barefoot in jeans. I stood back and enjoyed the view as I watched him finish cleaning up.
When he was done, he turned and leaned back on the counter.
“You know what was really neat about today?” he asked, brows furrowed together as he pondered.
“What’s that?”
“It was so… easy. If all that were done in a hospital, it would have taken months to schedule, days or weeks to get done, and the goat would have been turned away.”
I snorted a little at his rundown of events. “Plus Luke probably makes three times the amount that you do.”
He smirked at me. “I definitely went into the wrong field.”
“It’s never too late to make a change. But I’m not sure you’re cut out for veterinary work. You’d at least need boots.”
He whipped off his gloves and took long, fast strides over to me. I held up my hands when I saw what he was about to do.
“Do not tickle me,” I warned.
“You’re gonna dish it out, you had better learn how to take it.”
I laughed and started to retreat until the backs of my knees were
pressed to the arm of the couch. As soon as his fingers met my ribs, I yelped and fell backward onto the cushions. He was over me in an instant, his hands now soothing my sides. Soothing the tickle but not the ache.
Our laughter faded, and we grew more serious as he softly kissed my cheeks and then my lips. He brushed the hair off my forehead and looked into my eyes.
“I have to go.”
Chapter 9
Patrick
“Hey, buddy!” I rustled the hair of my six-year-old nephew’s head and pulled him in for a hug. He wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed while his younger sister smiled shyly around the couch.
“Hi, Amelia,” I said with a grin as I waved her over to give me a hug as well. My sister, Lissa, nudged Amelia with her knee, and my niece ran into my arms with a giggle.
I didn’t get to see much of Thomas and Amelia, what with living half a country apart plus my schedule, but we all tried to connect as much as possible. Mainly my sister would put the kids on a plane and come visit since I rarely had several days off in a row. I was so glad to spend the next few days with them. Really.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about Ivy. About whatever crazy thing she was doing, what she was cooking, tasting… what she tasted like.
I shook my head to clear it. The kids had already run off to play in their room, and my sister was looking down at me with a bemused expression on her face.
“What’s up, doc?” she asked with raised brows.
I laughed as I rose to my feet and gave her a hug.
“Not much. Just unwinding. Where’s your asshole husband?”
She smirked at me. “He’s finishing up at the barn. He’ll be up in a bit.”
When Lissa said barn, she wasn’t speaking of a barn like Ivy’s. I chuckled inwardly as I thought of the differences that I’d never even considered before. Lissa and Ethan trained English riding horses and racehorses. Their barn had polished brass fixtures on the stalls and housed shiny horses only. There was leather furniture and a chandelier in the office. Not that Ivy’s place wasn’t special in its own right. It was just different. They should call them different names. And I needed to stop thinking about it. About her.