by Shae Scott
“There is no way we are having sex in a snow fort,” I laughed.
“Why not? I’ve never done it before. Have you?” He eyed me teasingly.
“Um, no. There isn’t enough snow in Nashville for a snow fort. Besides, don’t you think it’s a touch cold to be trying to have sex out here when we have our nice warm cabin?” He’d continued to build his fort. Setting it up like a sandcastle with blocks of snow he’d compacted into a pail.
“I don’t know…I think we could keep each other warm enough.” He said. I could see the smile teasing his lips. It made me want to kiss him. I moved over to where he was currently working on his third row of blocks, on his knees, in the cold snow. I took the pail from him and gave him a smile. “What are you doing?” he asked, catching the intent in my eye.
“I need to kiss you,” I said simply, sinking down into the snow in front of him.
“Oh yeah?” He ran the back of his gloved hand across my reddened cheeks. I shivered from the cold as it was still covered in snow.
“You just look so damn sexy out here, I can’t help myself,” I admitted, leaning in close to him. He hummed along my lips, the vibration sending tingles through me. How he could do that with just the anticipation of his kiss was crazy. I’d never felt so much from a kiss. He was pure seduction to me. My drug.
“Well, I can’t have you feeling needy,” he crooned against me as he pulled me to him, his hand behind my head to steady me. I had come to him, but now he was taking control. It made my heart speed up. His mouth found mine and his warm lips brushed gently across my own, soft and firm. His tongue ran across my lip, before finding my own as he deepened the kiss. I was instant molten lava, melting into him, hot despite the snow or the cold. In his arms I was protected and safe and completely lost in desire.
I heard the whimper escape me as he moved his kiss to my throat and the sensitive skin behind my ear. I instantly wished there weren’t so many layers between us. His kiss always made me want more. He really was an addiction, one I knew I didn’t want to quit. Not now. Not ever.
“Pretty sure, I’m going to have to abandon this fort idea and get you inside. I need you out of these clothes.” His voice was husky as his hands held my face, his kisses hungry and eager. I was right there with him…half tempted to let him take me in his half made fort. He moved, effortlessly and had me up to my feet without breaking the kiss.
“God, I want you. I can’t get enough of you. You’ve ruined me. You’re so goddamn beautiful. I want to bury myself in you, claim you, own you. You make me crazy,” he said as he lifted me and carried me, through the snow back towards the cabin. My skin was hot and my breathing rough. His words had me so impatient and lustful I wasn’t sure we were even going to make it inside.
We did.
Barely.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Owen and I moved around the kitchen making dinner. He’d had the cabin stocked, so we only had to leave our cocoon if we really wanted to. So far we hadn’t. I chopped some vegetables, while Owen sautéed some chicken on the fancy professional stove. This kitchen was a dream.
I sipped my wine, getting caught up in just watching him. It was so sexy to me when he cooked. It was such an ordinary act, but his confidence was so alluring that I got lost in it sometimes. He turned around and caught me staring. He gave me a stern look and pointed his spatula at me. “Get to chopping,” he teased. I laughed and stuck my tongue out at him for good measure.
We moved about, making dinner in comfortable silence. I was content after our day together. I was relaxed and loose from an afternoon in bed where Owen had taken exceptional care of me. I smiled to myself as flashes of memory came to me. I didn’t think I’d ever get enough of him. I had to push the memory away before it had me begging him to do it all over again. Surely, I could make it through a meal without ripping his clothes off. The thought made me laugh quietly to myself. He flashed me a questioning look, but I didn’t explain.
Dinner was amazing. We sat side by side on the floor at the coffee table in the living room, enjoying the roar of the fire. As we ate, Owen asked me questions about myself like he used to when we were getting reacquainted. It was his favorite game and I loved playing it with him. We would go back and forth with questions, sometimes rapid-fire-style. Other times, a question would lead us off into a deeper conversation.
“What is your favorite cookie?” he asked. He was playful and I loved the way the glow of the fire caught his eyes. It was moments like these when I saw my old Owen. I could almost imagine us sitting on the tailgate of his truck, looking out at the lake. All we were missing was his guitar.
“Um…snickerdoodles,” I said confidently. He nodded, accepting my answer. “You?”
“Oatmeal raisin.” I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “What? No oatmeal raisin?” He seemed a little offended at my reaction.
“Gross. I hate raisins.”
“You hate raisins? How can you hate raisins? They are like little sweet drops of goodness.” He was teasing me.
I shook my head, keeping the sour look on my face. “No way. Raisins are just the result of the cruel and unusual treatment of grapes. I mean, let the grapes be grapes. Let them serve their natural purpose…Let them grow up and be wine,” I smiled as I lifted my glass into a toast. He laughed.
“Who knew you to be such an anti-raisin-ite,” he sounded out the word as he made it up on the spot.
“Proud of it. It goes with all fruit. Leave it alone. Why must we dry it out and make it all sad and weird. I don’t get it. Let the fruit be fruit.” I caught the smirk he was trying really hard to keep at bay.
“Really? I love dried fruit. It’s good. What if you need the fruit to last a long time? What if you decide to go on a week long hike or something?”
“Don’t take fruit. You can survive a week without it. Take some jerky. Stay home. Starve.” I shrugged, nonchalant, for good measure and Owen started laughing, a deep belly laugh. I couldn’t help but laugh with him. I knew he loved to get me riled up about the silliest of things. He had a way of making a silly conversation seem important and I loved that we could go on for hours on a subject so trivial.
“Okay, okay…so no dried fruit. I get it,” he said, giving in.
“I’ll still make you oatmeal raisin cookies if you really want them.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I love you that much.”
“You mean I outrank the ban on raisins?”
“Just barely,” I deadpanned.
The next day we ventured out and explored the town. We went in and out of little shops, had lunch with a spectacular view of the mountains. We’d considered skiing, but we both agreed that I probably wouldn’t make it out alive. As we headed back to the cabin, Owen suggested that we take the night and go to dinner.
“Let’s get dressed up. I want to take you out and show you off a little.” He gave me a smile, and it warmed me all over.
“Alright. It will give me a reason to wear that dress I bought today,” I agreed. At this, his eyes lit up.
“I was hoping that you’d say that,” he murmured, taking my hand in his and lifting it to his lips. It sent sparks throughout my body and had me humming.
My dress was simple and black, but it was cut to accentuate my best assets. I loved the way that the smooth material felt against my skin. Paired with the electricity that danced across the surface of my skin with each touch Owen gave, I was a ball of energy as we had dinner.
“I don’t think we’ve ever done this…not really,” he said. His hand rested over mine, keeping us connected. “It’s nice to take you out. You look beautiful tonight.” His gaze held mine and I felt the build of anticipation of what the rest of the night would bring. As much as I liked being out with him, I would have been just as happy snuggled up with him on a couch back at the cabin.
“You look pretty nice yourself,” I smiled, letting my eyes take him in. Sitting here with him I felt lucky. Lucky to have him back in my life, lucky that we were together and lucky tha
t I felt so protected and safe here with him. I wanted to stay here forever. The real world seemed so far away from us here, and the peacefulness of our bubble was just what we had needed.
After dinner we ended up at a small club with a band. It was small and quaint and full of locals. We found a small table near the dance floor and ordered some wine as the band crooned out some of the classics. We sat close, so close that I was surrounded by his scent.
When the music changed into the familiar opening notes of “All of Me” by John Legend I saw a light flash in Owen’s eyes. “This is our song. We have to dance.” He took my hand and had me pulled to my feet before I could object.
“We have a song?” I asked, as he led me out onto the floor. He pulled me close to him, our bodies connected at every point. I lay my head against his chest, falling under the spell of the rhythm of his heartbeat. “I didn’t know we had a song,” I murmured softly against his chest.
“We danced to this that night at the reunion. Every time I hear it I think of us.” His voice was low and deep and it sent hungry shivers through me. When he sang part of the lyrics to me, I about melted into a pool of goo at his feet. My worst distraction I couldn’t help but smile at that line. My man, who fought so hard against getting distracted, was now embracing it, embracing me, and I couldn’t be happier.
“I love you,” he breathed against my throat. “I will spend every day trying to show you how much you’ve changed me,” he admitted. I felt my heart fill with emotion as I looked up into his deep gray eyes.
“I love you. I always have,” I admitted. I saw the shy smile that I loved so much touch his lips right before I kissed him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Coming back to the real world after our time in Colorado was a little bit like waking up from a really good dream. I still had the haze of our time together wrapped around me and it made adjusting to the brutal sting of normal a little rough. The closer I got to him, the deeper that I fell into this relationship and let it consume me, the harder it was to have him so far away. I could hardly remember the days when I thought the distance between us was a good thing. It wasn’t. It was hard as hell and I hated every moment of it.
I did my best to focus on work during the day and I made plans with Cassie and the girls on the weekends to soften the ache of not having him around. We were doing okay. We were taking this long distance love and making it work for us. We decided that we would see each other every two weeks. It was asking a lot, to travel seven hours for just a couple of nights together, but it was worth it.
Still, I wasn’t sure how it would pan out. Owen was busy with work. The promise of making partner still hung in the air and he was dancing the line of dishonesty with his boss, Max. He’d told Anna about us. He’d told her that they needed to figure out a way to end what was between them and both still keep the success that their relationship had provided them. She wasn’t happy about it. She was convinced that “breaking up” was going to ruin things for both of them. She was giving him a lot of shit for it and it was stressing him out. It was hard to hear about, but I guess I should be happy that he was telling me about it. He’d promised me honesty, and even though it was sometimes hard to listen to, I was still grateful for it. It kept me from asking too many questions or making up alternate realities in my head.
It was late when my phone rang with the familiar ring. It still made my heart flip when I heard it. I was instantly alerted, however, when I heard his voice. He sounded weary, defeated, and it made me hurt for him. I wished I could be there with him, take his head and rest it in my lap, run my hands through his hair and try to comfort him somehow. It was moments like this, that I especially hated being so far apart from him.
“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft. I heard him let out a breath and imagined him sinking back against the cushions in his couch, suit rumpled from a long day.
“I guess. Rough day,” he admitted. I know he wasn’t in front of me, but the image of him was so clear in my mind. I could almost see the stress around his eyes, the sag of his normally strong shoulders. I imagined his hair was rumpled from running his hands though it like he did when he was frustrated. I waited for him to continue.
“You wanna tell me about it?” I asked. I didn’t want to push him, but I needed to be here for him.
He sighed and took a long moment before he answered. “It’s Anna.”
My breath caught. I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I still felt like I had to tread carefully when it came to his arrangement with Anna. He knew I was losing patience with the situation. I wanted to be understanding and support him because his promotion was tied to the whole thing and I knew how important it all was for him. The whole situation just grated on my nerves. To be honest, I didn’t understand it. Why was he letting her or her father dictate his personal life? He was good at his job. Would Max really keep him from partner if he wasn’t dating Anna? Couldn’t they see through the charade? That question haunted me. Because if they didn’t, did that mean that they were playing the part exceptionally well? I didn’t want to think about what that would require.
“What is she doing now?” I asked cautiously. I tried not to let the venom I was feeling seep into my voice, but I knew I wasn’t much at fooling him.
“She’s just being difficult. She is mad because I told her I wasn’t going to be going to her dad’s gala this year. It’s for the charity that he started. I told her I wasn't going and she just let into me. Same shit. I’m ruining her life. I’m so tired of this shit, Ally. I should just march into Max’s office and tell him the truth.”
“Why don’t you?” I asked. I knew why. But my feathers were ruffled. I didn’t know Anna, but I was tired of her playing such a roll in this relationship.
“Damn it, Ally. You know I would if I could.” His voice was hard and full of frustration. I knew I shouldn’t push him. “I don’t know what to do. I’m sick of dealing with all of this. I have been honest with her. I told her she had a month to figure it all out or I was going to take care of it. She is dragging her feet. Hell, I was in Max’s office today and she came in and damn near tried to kiss me. Told Max that we’d gone away together for the weekend. I can’t stand the lying anymore. I need this to be over.” I kept telling myself that I was lucky that he was being straight forward with me, but hearing these stories was hard. I remained quiet. “I didn’t kiss her,” he said, knowing that the thought was stuck in my head.
“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with it. I want it to be over too. I know my frustrations don’t help you any, I just can’t help it. I don’t like sharing you,” I admitted.
“You aren’t sharing me. I’m not with her. Not at all.” His voice had a hard edge to it. It was the frustration coming through. I wasn’t making this easy for him, I was letting my emotions get the best of me and it was making the situation harder than it had to be.
“I know. I’m sorry.” I didn’t want to get in another fight with him. Distance made any argument seem worse. And honestly, I didn’t want to fight about Anna again.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I just feel like I’m being pulled in so many different directions and they are keeping me from what I really want. I don’t want to be doing this to you. To us. The whole thing is just a mess. She’s just being such a bitch,” he groaned.
“It’s going to be fine. We’ll get through it. It’s almost over,” I said, trying to be optimistic.
“Ally, I have to go to this Gala. I can’t get out of it. I don’t want to go. But it’s Max’s baby and with Anna so up in the air, not being there could really be detrimental. I’m sorry. I have to go,” he said. This is what he had been afraid to tell me. I could tell most of his stress stemmed from this confession.
“Owen. It’s fine. So you go to the event. You dress up, you smile and make friends and then you go home. I get it. I do. I trust you. It’s one night.” I wanted to support him. Yeah, it sucked that he had to go to this thing with Anna. I didn’t like it. It d
rove me bat shit crazy, but I was trying to be patient.
“It’s next Saturday.”
I froze. My birthday.
“Saturday,” I repeated. I wanted him to take it back.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.” It took a moment for it all to sink in, the disappointment, the anger at Anna and the whole situation, the realization that I was once again being put second. It hurt, and I hated that it did. The only thing I wanted for my birthday was to spend it with him. And now he was going to be absent. Worse, he was going to be spending my birthday with her. I was his real girlfriend, but he was going to be spending my birthday with his fake one.
“Yeah. Oh.” He sounded like he was preparing himself for a fight. And while I knew that the anger was going to come, my first instinct was just hurt and disappointment. The feeling of second place hit me hard and I felt myself begin to shut down, as my insecurities began to flood me. He was choosing her. He was choosing work. Again. I was never going to be first on his list. He’d tried to tell me how many times? When would I learn? When would I get it and stop fooling myself?
“So you won’t be here?” I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted him to deliver the final blow.
“I’m sorry. You know I want to be there. I tried to get out of it.”
I felt tears prick my eyes and took a deep breath so he couldn’t hear it in my voice. I didn’t want to give him that hurt. It was bad enough that he had that power over me, but I wasn’t about to remind him of it.
“You could be here if you wanted to be.” My voice came out icy. Good. The anger was starting to show up. I needed it or I would turn into a pathetic crying mess. “But you are choosing to stay there. Choosing her.”