by Claire Adams
“I can’t say,” I replied. “We just started whatever this is. I like her plenty, but our lives are on different sides of the country.” I didn’t add how this was why I hadn’t wanted to get anything started between us to begin with.
“All I’m gonna say is make sure you don’t let her leave the farm at the end of the month without telling her how you feel about her. If you want her to stay, you should say so. The kind of job she does, she could do it anywhere.”
“We ain’t quite there yet,” I said with a smile, but I wasn’t sure about that. I felt a connection with her that ran deeper than I’d expected, considering how long we’d known each other. I didn’t want to give up on that too easily. But our lives were thousands of miles apart. I need to keep that in mind and not let myself fall too hard for this beautiful New Yorker, unless I wanted her to make a souvenir out of my heart.
“Better figure out just where you are before she’s gone,” he said, and kicked Lettie up into a faster trot, leaving me and Dusty behind until we got going after him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hailey
Later That Evening
We had an easy dinner — just Cuban sandwiches that I heated up in the oven with some homemade potato wedges — cleaned up the kitchen, and took our companionable chat out to the couch, snuggling together in front of the cold fireplace instead of sitting across from each other at the dining room table. It wasn’t quite cool enough to use the fireplace, but Cash promised it would be before I was due to leave sometime in October. I still hadn’t decided when I would pull the trigger on this trip. Right now, I was in absolutely no hurry to get back to the city and my empty, sad little apartment. The slow country life was growing on me. There was also the matter of the drop dead gorgeous cowboy relaxing with his arm around me. I was in no hurry to leave him behind, either.
“I still can’t believe you were able to loosen up enough to have fun last night,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Cash asked, bushy eyebrows lifting when I looked back at him. I had to laugh at how surprised he looked.
“You’re usually so uptight about cleaning up. I can’t believe you left the kitchen a mess long enough for us to be together.”
He smiled at that. “I haven’t bothered you about being a slob in weeks. I’ve just let you be.”
That much was true, even though I was sure it was still bothering the hell out of him. I’d tried organizing that room, but my stuff had always been pretty resistant to order. Paige used to make fun of me when we were growing up, all the time I spent trapped in my room under orders by our parents to clean up while she was free to play with friends or watch TV. Organization just wasn’t one of my gifts.
“That’s true, but I was still surprised.” I poked him a little in the ribs, and he laughed. “I noticed that the kitchen was clean when I got up this morning though. So, you aren’t quite a recovered neat freak.”
“Hell, I cleaned that last night after you fell asleep.”
Giggling, I looked back up at him again. “Are you serious?”
“Of course,” he said, looking offended before a smile broke out over his handsome face again, his green eyes gleaming. “I can’t sleep with a mess in the house waiting to be cleaned.”
“How have you slept since I’ve been here?” I was sure he’d glimpsed the mess I had hiding behind the closed guest room door at least a handful of times.
“I haven’t.”
I laughed again and pushed him a little. “Seriously, you need to relax a little. Not necessarily as relaxed as I am about things, but enough to be comfortable enough to let a mess sit until the next day.”
“I’ve just always been this way,” he said. “I like things in order. I like to know what’s gonna happen and how I’m gonna react to it. If I could plan out every day for the rest of my life, I’d do it and be happier for it.”
I let my smile fade as the conversation took a sudden turn for the serious. “Did something happen to make you need that kind of order and control in your life?”
He shrugged against me, his buoyant expression long gone, a more pensive one in its place. “I was always neat and tidy. My mama’s that way. But I noticed a change in myself after I fell off a horse as a young teenager. I was hurt pretty bad. My mama says it left a scar on the outside and one even bigger on the inside. I’m not sure why keeping things in order helps, but it does.”
“Can I see the scar?” I hadn’t even noticed it in the bedroom the night before, but the light had been low and I’d really only had eyes for what was between his legs. Just thinking about it started the yearning in my sex, the heat and the wetness ready for him again. I might have to do something about that soon. I’d wanted him all day, a slow burn that was quickly building into an inferno. I saw absolutely no reason to deny myself now.
He sat up and pulled off his shirt, dropping it next to him on the couch. The scar was only slightly darker than the rest of him, starting just under one rounded pectoral muscle and stopping just below his ribs. I traced it with one finger, imagining the seriousness of the injury that could leave behind such a mark so many years later.
“This looks like it hurt,” I whispered.
He grinned a little. “All I remember is falling from the horse. I woke up in the hospital after surgery, in pain but okay. I couldn’t ride for a while after I got home. But I could clean things up, so that’s what I did. And I put every piece of my life in order, from morning ‘til night, making up lists and schedules while I was trapped in the house. I’ve been doing it ever since.”
That explained a lot. I stowed that away for later—the handsome, brooding cowboy with a tragedy in his past that infected the way he faced the future. I smiled a little, trying to think of a way to lighten the mood. I thought I had something, and I was sure he’d play along once I got the game started.
“So, what you’re telling me is that you need some help being spontaneous?” I asked.
He smiled a little, looking uncertain of the prospect. “I have never been spontaneous a day in my life, not even before I nearly died falling from that horse.”
“I think I can assist you with that.” His eyes widened, and I kissed him before he could speak, but chastely, no open mouth and no tongue. But what I did next was the opposite of chaste. I slid down the front of him, letting my hands stop at the waist of his jeans while the rest of me kept going onto the floor, my body pressing between his legs so he had to open them. I unbuckled his belt and then unbuttoned his pants, grinning up at him as he looked questioningly down at me. But his body knew what I was doing. I could see how hard he was, the long length of him growing beneath my fingers. Maybe it was a result of just being around me—my own body turned up the heat whenever he was around, the hot place between my legs getting wet all on its own. I reached into the front of his boxers and pulled his cock free. It was hard as a rock.
“How’s this?” I asked, closing my fist around his thick length and stroking it gently while I watched his face contract with desire. Before he could answer, I leaned forward and took him in my mouth. He moaned, his hips shifting as I moved my head up and down over the long shape of him, sucking hard, my tongue working busily over his shaft. His hips moved into me as I worked him, taking his cock so deep I could feel the head of it at the back of my throat. My insides were on fire, I wanted him so badly, but I kept up that steady motion, teasing us both. He made a strangled sound, and I smiled around his cock, loving this power that I had to get him so excited.
I stood, reached under my dress, and pulled off my panties as he watched, his eyes steaming hot as he watched me kick them off of one foot. He moved slightly, tugging his pants down over his hips to ready himself for me. I straddled him, taking his cock by the base and sliding it inside me as I sat down, impaling myself on him. I didn’t want to wait. I just wanted him as deep as I could get him. We both groaned together as I sat on his lap, grinding my crotch into his, my clit rubbing into the wiry hair at the base of his cock. I ro
cked back and forth, getting him deeper, my hands clenching the back of the couch for more leverage. I kept my eyes on his face, letting that heat build inside me, that delicious pressure that would drive me out of my mind until it exploded inside me, just wanting to see the way his face tightened with pleasure as I rode him. I pressed my hips into him harder, lifting my knees to get him deeper. His hands found my hips, and he pulled me over himself more roughly.
He was so deep, and I was so hot for him. Watching the desire in his eyes undid me. I couldn’t hold back the shivering orgasm when it came, and I cried out, breathless, my heart racing in my chest. But I kept up that motion over his lap, pressing his cock as deep inside me as it would go, just wanting the pleasure to keep blooming in Cash’s cheeks, that rising heat in his eyes mingling with the wet heat inside of me, both of us burning together. He growled behind clenched teeth as he came, his hands tightening on my hips. He pressed me down hard onto himself, his hips rising as I cried out and collapsed onto him, cradling his head and breathing hard.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, my heart beating out of my chest. “That was fantastic.”
He turned his head to kiss the side of my face, his hot breath caressing my cheek. “If that’s how it feels to be spontaneous, I need to be doing that more often.”
I laughed, still mostly breathless. I sat up to look him in his ruggedly gorgeous face, those emerald eyes enough to make me melt all over again.
“I told you being messy was fun.”
He smiled, and so did I.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cash
The Following Morning
My alarm went off at 3:45, but I was already awake. I turned it off quickly, not wanting to wake Hailey, who was asleep next to me. This was the second night of us sleeping together in my bed, and I was used to it already. It was hard getting up and leaving her behind, but I had things that needed doing on the farm.
She snuggled into me, making a soft, sleepy sound. “Do you really have to get up?” she whispered.
I kissed the top of her head. “Not right this second,” I replied. I couldn’t wait too long, or the horses would be screaming for breakfast and freedom from their stalls.
She put her arm around me, holding me to her like that would keep me from getting up if I tried. It was sweet and only made me want to stay in bed with her for longer. “You could stay here for the rest of the day, just snuggling and having sex. We’d have to get up for food too, but then we’d need to get right back into bed.” She giggled at the thought, and I held her closer, thinking about how strange it would be to spend an entire day in bed voluntarily.
Lying in the dark together, I realized there was something I’d been meaning to talk to Hailey about, and this seemed like the perfect time. It was dark, and I wouldn’t need to look her in the eye while I did it, which made it easier.
“I’ve been reading your books,” I said, just coming right out with it. “I bought one in town, the last one you wrote, and had the rest ordered.”
“Really?” she asked, sounding slightly tickled as she hugged me tighter. “What did you think?”
“The writing was great, really descriptive and it made it easy to imagine the setting and the characters.” Her style was almost rhythmic, like you were listening to music instead of just reading. I fell into the story, enjoying it despite the fact that I wouldn’t usually read that kind of fiction. It had been a relief to see how well she wrote because that meant we could discuss her books. If I’d found her writing terrible, I’d never have brought up her books at all, and it likely would’ve changed things between us, as much as I hated to admit it.
“But…?” she asked, glancing up at me in the filmy dark.
“I was just surprised is all. Your writing is darker than I thought it’d be. The characters are vibrant, but so many bad things happen. The storylines don’t suit your personality.”
She giggled, still sounding sleepy. “I get that a lot. Cute blonde girl with glasses who should be writing children’s books or romance novels.”
“I didn’t quite mean that,” I started, but she interrupted.
“No, I get it. Even my agent is surprised by what I come up with. It just helps me process the things in my own life. I put it all out on the page. I really think that’s why I’m such an upbeat, happy person. Writing is my therapy. I put all the dark stuff into my books, exorcising my own demons, I guess you could say. I don’t write twisted slashers or anything, but that doesn’t mean bad things don’t happen to my characters. It’s supposed to mimic real life, and that can be hard depending on who you are and where you live.”
“I liked the one on the boat best, I think, even though the little girl ends up without her mother at the end,” I said.
“That one was fun to research,” she said. “I spent a few weeks in the Caribbean on a boat. There are definitely worse ways to spend a day at the office.”
I didn’t like the sound of spending that much time on a boat, but then I’d never been on the ocean before, or seen it outside of a picture in one of my books. “You definitely like dark themes for your books. What’s the one you’re gonna write about this trip?” I was interested to hear the answer, and anxious too. I didn’t want her to paint Wyoming in a bad light or have some grumpy cowboy as the main character that was clearly based on me. She’d done justice to the rest of her settings, describing their beauty in a way that spoke to the reader. I didn’t think she’d make Jackson look bad, but I did worry how she’d portray me to an audience.
“Well, I usually start with a theme I want for the novel itself,” she explained as she ran her fingertips over my chest, tracing the muscles and ribs. “For this one, I decided on the isolation of rural life. It will revolve around a central character, a rugged cowboy type living in the wide open spaces of wild Wyoming.”
I chuckled at that description. “Rural life ain’t half as isolated as what I expect city life to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“All of them people everywhere, but no one talks to each other. I don’t spend much time in town, but I know damned near everybody. It’s slow here, and easy. From all I’ve read about the city, it seems like things move so fast, you don’t have time to think, let alone talk with your neighbor. You’re surrounded by activity and other folks, but do you really connect with them?”
She thought about that, her fingers moving over my skin, creating trails of sweet sensation. I could lie here with her rubbing on me for the rest of the day, the horses and cows be damned.
“I can see what you’re saying, and I agree, proximity of people doesn’t equate to a loss of isolation. I’ve felt more at peace and connected to those around me since I’ve been out here than I ever have in New York, and I doubt I’ve even seen a tenth of the people here that I’d see in a day in the city. I love it there, but I’ve been able to center myself here in a way that’s almost effortless. It’s so beautiful, and I’ve made real connections with you and other people in town. I don’t think the same thing would be possible in Manhattan, and not just for an outsider, but for someone who lives there.”
Hearing her talk about what she’d experienced since coming out here got me thinking. It was true that she’d seen plenty since arriving out West, but there was one thing she hadn’t done, and that was go out on a date with me. I wanted to show her a nice time at the best steakhouse in Jackson. That would mean making a reservation, which I’d do later today. I wanted to surprise her. The rodeo had been a good time, but this would be an actual date.
“I need to go tend to the animals,” I said, but reluctantly. I had a day’s worth of chores to get to if I wanted to finish by the time we sat down to dinner together. And after dinner, we could retire to my room, spending the dark hours tangled together in bed.
She groaned to let me know how displeased she was with the idea.
I leaned to kiss her on the lips, staying a little longer when she pressed her tongue into my mouth, letting me taste how sweet she
was. It was difficult to get up instead of doing something about how hard my cock was getting just kissing her and being this close to her warm, naked body. But if I didn’t get up now, I never would.
“Come on out when you get up,” I said as I dragged myself away from her.
“Okay,” she replied, burrowing back into the blankets.
I smiled, watching her for a moment before going to the bathroom to start my day.
PART FOUR
Chapter Thirty
Hailey
A Week Later, Late September
Cash and I climbed into his truck and started the drive into town as soon as he’d showered and changed after working all day. He’d made reservations at a steakhouse in town, surprising me this morning with the plans of going out tonight. I put on the nicest dress I’d brought along with me—forever hopeful that I’d meet someone nice and need something to wear on a date—with a cardigan and a pair of low heels. Cash had on a dark pair of jeans, shiny boots, and a nice button-up shirt. He wasn’t wearing his hat tonight, which kept throwing me for a loop. I wasn’t used to seeing him out and about without it. I liked it, as I could see his entire face without his forehead hiding from me. And I always forgot what his light brown hair looked like, I saw it so little.
“This is our first official date, you know,” I said, grinning at him.
He shot me an amused look before putting his eyes back on the road. “I wasn’t sure what you thought about the rodeo ‘till now. I bought you a funnel cake. I figured that made it a date.”
I laughed. “And I bought us both a pretzel. That was more research. This is a date.”
He chuckled at that, the sound staying low in his throat like he didn’t want the world to know he found things funny. “I see.”