Third message. Natalie.
Hello, Whitney. I heard from you AND Alex that you have resigned. I must say I’m surprised. Well, whatever you do, I hope your choice will be worth it. And just in case, we will be happy to negotiate a pay-raise if you decide to change your mind. This offer is up for one week. If you do not reply, I will assume you are choosing to stick with your new change. Natalie.
This message annoyed and pleased Whitney. Finally, she had the offer of a pay-raise, but only when she had basically decided to leave the company. Alex had warned her for such. Typical. I should have threatened to leave ages ago.
Next message, Faith.
Hey, Whitney-tje, thanks for telling me about what you want to do. I really wish for the best for you – this will make you happy, I’m sure of it. But don’t forget me in the meanwhile, okay? I like you. I hope we can continue being friends. I felt like a better person around you. I think that’s the effect you have on people. Good luck with him. Xx
Whitney kissed her phone. “Of course we’ll continue, you silly girl.” She also needed to ask about the company photos. She knew Faith had taken some wonderful images in her time at the ranch, including some of them together.
She resolved at some point to visit Faith within the next two weeks.
The last wave of messages came from Jack Brook.
Whitney? Are you sure? You’re coming back?
You said you didn’t know if it would work out, and I understood the choice you’re making. But if you’re sure you want to try it, I’ll welcome you with open arms. You can work here, like I said before. Hell, you can move your whole family over. I want you.
Wait. Whitney. You said you’re driving? Please be safe. I could come and pick you up you know. It would be much safer! Please answer back when you get this. You don’t have to drive! I can come to you if needed!
I was kind of planning to do that, admittedly. Just drop in at your work place. Call your home. Try and make it more of a date setting so we could convince each other this wasn’t just some one-week thing.
Hope your phone battery isn’t flat…
There were also some missed calls by him.
The messages made her smile. The fact Jack had been planning to head over to her spoke volumes. Come to think of it, it would have been a hell of a lot more sensible if Whitney had just let Jack arrange to pick her up. But considering her dramatic storm out of home, with the heightened emotions… she wasn’t really thinking at her clearest. And yet, she also was. The panicked responses from Jack confirmed the insanity of her actions. I can’t believe I did this.
She had just started typing back, when she saw a figure hurtle out of the main building, making a bee-line towards her.
“Whitney!” The figure bellowed. “You idiot!”
She wiped tears from her eyes, stepping out the car and laughing weakly when Jack barreled into her, enveloping her in a tight, warm embrace. He then kissed her on the lips for a long, lingering moment, before withdrawing and giving her a mock slap on the cheek.
“I can’t believe you. You give me this heartfelt speech about how you have to do right by your family and that as wonderful as everything is here, you have responsibilities that you can’t back out of in order to spend your life as a ranch hermit – and then you send me a message out of the blue saying ‘yeah, I’m coming to you now, driving, can no longer live without you.’ Which is nice, don’t get me wrong, but a little scary. A young woman in the middle of nowhere who has decided to make an out of the blue life changing decision. When you weren’t answering anything, I kept having these stupid images of you lying dead in a ditch somewhere!”
“Yeah… I turned my phone off, sorry. Too many people trying to contact me at once.”
“Well… no wonder.”
Whitney kissed him on the cheek, taking the moment to breathe in his scent, and drink in his warmth.
“I’m sorry. But I just knew. Knew that leaving this place was a mistake. Never been as happy as I’ve been here. Learning about this kinda life. Speaking to people from across the pond. Hell, Jack, I would wanna work here, too. Bed and board, whatever – just for the chance to wake up to this every-day. And the chance to see your face… every day. Without worrying about the backbiting of my colleagues. I just wanted to convince myself… that it couldn’t happen. Like I didn’t deserve to be happy or something.”
“Well, I can’t say you won’t get backbiting here. It just comes in a different form. But Whitney, do you truly mean it? You want to stay here? You want to work here, too? I mean, you’re here. But you’re not doubting?”
She shook her head, resolute. They grasped hands. Whitney locked her car with a beep of the manual locking system, then paced slowly with Jack, heading towards his cabin. They passed Anja on the way, who was standing outside the main entrance with a steaming mug of tea. When Anja spotted Whitney, she gave a whoop of delight.
“Wait till I tell Miles! Yes!” And she walked through the entrance, one hand flung in the air.
“Oh. Not sure if I expected that reaction.” She stared after the retreating Dutch woman, amused.
“Those two have been campaigning hard for me to chase after you, just so you know. Such insolent employees, I swear. But it’s also part of the reason I like having people like them around. The head chef as well – served my grandpa, back in the day – he wants me to settle down with a sensible gal, not those ‘flighty, fickle things you see on the television every day,’ as he likes to say.” Jack said all this with an indulgent smile, constantly looking over Whitney as if he couldn’t believe she was there. “You made some friends for life here, I believe.”
Whitney flushed, embarrassed and pleased at the same time. “You seem to be remarkably okay to have me turn up all bedraggled at your doorstep.”
“I’m just happy you’re here. One week was not enough. And it’s most certainly not a fling – whatever you or your mother might say. It can last about six weeks, at least. Take it slow, eh?”
“Sure, like how slow we took it the first day. Real slow.”
“Indeed.” Reaching the cabin, they stumbled through the door, groping each other’s clothes like teenagers. Whitney’s back slammed the door shut, and her whole body, squeezed against the wood, accepted Jack. She hugged him tighter and tighter, as if they could merge into one person. The feel of him there, larger than life, his calloused hands brushing her face, the way his beard scratched.
Regretfully, she broke off the passionate kiss, halting Jack’s eager lips with a finger to his chin. “I need to shower. Use bathroom. And eat. Not had much chance…”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” Jack, with extreme reluctance, peeled off Whitney so she could squeeze past him.
“Do you have any spare clothes as well? Didn’t really… prepare so good.” Whitney guiltily rubbed the back of her neck. She really hadn’t thought things over before just disappearing from the home she had known for her entire life. Even with the happiness the one week had offered – was it really enough to erode the established life she held, which took years to build up?
Everything about the whole scenario stunk of insanity. It was the kind of move most would recommend against. After all, everything had occurred within a week. One, tiny, insignificant week out of thirty-one years of life.
Yet that one week was enough for Whitney to completely reevaluate everything she ever stood for. Part of her feared the moment passing, the happiness dying out to leave a wake of doubt and fear with this drastic new decision. However, never in all her years did she feel so convinced that things actually had a chance of working out. Jack Brook waltzing into her life from a simple advertisement on the internet, fit the missing, unexplained absence in her life like a jigsaw puzzle. The choking depression of her job and home-life – which had gradually worn her down over the years without her realizing – became shrugged off in the wake of this new world.
This place is more like home than I ever imagined.
Jack bustled around the cabi
n, selecting some clothes. “They’re men’s clothes, sorry, but they should be alright… I’ll turn the kettle on, I’ll bring some sandwiches from the canteen… I’ll do something – as long as you promise to not bolt out the cabin when I disappear.” He pulled out several tunics, some woolen gray socks, and a pair of leather pants. “These ones don’t fit me anymore, maybe they will fit you…”
“I can look myself, you don’t need to go to all that effort,” Whitney said, even as she took off her clothes one by one. “And definitely not planning to bolt. Driving fourteen hours in the opposite direction will probably kill me.”
Jack chuckled as he laid out the clothes on the bed. Then, he dashed over to Whitney to plant a light kiss on her forehead, clasping her by the shoulders. “Seriously. Thank you so much for coming back.”
They locked gazes for a moment.
She stroked his cheek, eyes gentle. “It hurt to be away from here. Not a nice feeling. Thinking I’m doing the correct, responsible thing by choosing my family. But feeling that desperate craving for the happiness you and this place gave me. Not one for falling in love, or believing that you can fall so hard and fast. But… honestly. This might be as real as my nose.”
“It is,” Jack whispered. His words sent a delicious tremor through her skin. “It’s real.”
“Better be,” Whitney said softly. They held the stares for a while. Too long. Then, he wrenched himself away.
“Sandwiches! And kettle. Be right back.”
“Good.”
Smiling, Whitney watched him fill up the kettle, turn it on, and dash out of the door. She took her time showering, after fumbling with the heat settings, as it started off too hot, almost blistering her skin – and she sank under it with a content sigh, allowing her thoughts to still for a few blissful moments.
Finishing up and drying off, she rifled through the clothes selection, also tugging on some boxers. Checking herself in the mirror, the clothes hung loose on her. The pants clung to her waist, held by a belt looped to the tightest knot available. The bottoms draped over her boots, so she rolled them up as best as able.
By the time Jack came back, with a selection of sandwiches wrapped up in a bag, Whitney had poured the coffee for herself, and tentatively left another mug in case Jack wanted to indulge as well.
“Your food has arrived. Horace got super excited to know you’re here. I think it’s all peanut butter.”
“He remembers!” Whitney said, reaching for the bag. She instantly began devouring the peanut butter selection, sitting down by the kitchen bar.
Jack watched her, smiling the whole time. “Don’t mind me if I just stare. I was partly convinced I’d never see you again. You seemed so resigned to having this as a tragically doomed fling.”
“Don’t think you’ll be shrugging me off that easy.” Whitney meant it. Things obviously would be different, outside the context of a holiday. “I honestly don’t know how things will pan out. Don’t know if I can handle being out here or not, or if my parents can cope good at home. Though I think without me there, my dad might be more encouraged to do something himself, when he realizes that my mom can’t do it alone.”
Jack stepped over to make himself tea, nodding in thought. “The offer is still up. I don’t want to lose you, Whitney. If you want to drag your family over here, I’ll find a place for them. Obviously we’re a little isolated for your brothers, and I don’t think the move would be easy, but it’s there. And,” he raised a finger, “Even if things didn’t work out, I wouldn’t be so cold as to deny the chance to work and stay here.” He tapped over his heart. “Things may be moving fast, but it doesn’t feel wrong, you know.”
Oddly enough, Whitney felt reassured by the candid admission. “Thanks. I… want it to work out. You're a hell of a guy. Don’t know what it will be like in the future. But right now… this is what I want. You. This life. This life… because of you.” She finished off her sandwiches, and washed her hands under the sink faucet. “Definitely in agreement about how fast it is. Mostly keep thinking nothing works out like that. This doesn’t happen. But… I’ve never been in this position before. To feel so strongly about something.” The confession stuttered out of her. Feelings, especially strong, intensive ones like this, screamed at her to stay inside, to hide, in case the light of day shining on them crushed them to nothing. It assumed that the people who saw such intimate emotions would automatically dismiss or mock them for existing.
Which was stupid. She knew Jack would embrace them, and more. They needed to be shared, not locked away.
Still, the instinct to stay hidden scratched at her soul in all aspects of her life. This was why Jack suited her so perfectly for this moment. He took those vulnerable emotions and treasured them. He didn’t mock, or belittle. He let Whitney just be herself. And she, in return, let him be himself. From the start, she realized, they had been nothing but honest with each other. Even when he dressed himself up in that stupid disguise, his personality remained exactly the same. And it allowed her to see him unfettered by the perception of the wealth and background he possessed.
Jack instantly pounced on her. Whitney accepted it with aplomb, grasping at him like he was an elixir. Again, the doubts, the niggling worries, the small panic that wondered if she was doing the right thing, if she hadn’t just traded away a bright and vibrant future and career for something impossible from the start – and focused on the delicious feel of Jack in her arms.
He didn’t need to say it in words how he felt. He demonstrated with his actions, his gentle touches, his joy in her lips and sighs, the way her nails dug into his neck, the way she pressed into him with her body, seeking out his warmth. The way they touched each other was as if they had spent years getting to understand their bodies.
The clothes Whitney had worn for about ten minutes came off in a moment – she stepped out of the pants like a mermaid breaking the depths, fighting to take off Jack’s clothes as well. He assisted her, snatching quick kisses between the loss of items, not wanting to stop caressing her skin, his blue eyes utterly entranced, roving over her body, always meeting back up with her own. She did the same, scouring over his sculpted muscles, the light hairs on his chest, the strong thighs. Everything thrilled Whitney. She felt giddy with happiness, arousal ripping through her like a forest fire.
They grappled each other onto the bed. His arousal hardened fast. Neither wanted to wait – Whitney needed him there and now, and spread her legs wide to let him settle in. He licked and sucked at her neck, breathing rapidly, one hand slipping downwards to test how wet she was. He dipped one finger in, then two, groaning into her neck when detecting how much her body wanted him.
“Can’t stand it…” Whitney hissed, nails digging into his shoulder blades, hitching onto the muscles. “Want you in me… now…”
Jack in response sucked harder on her neck, strong enough to leave a bruise there for later, and he took his slick fingers out, lowering his hips so that his cock entered her. She took him in deep, and cried in pleasure as she raked his back, arching her spine, breasts heaving with every breath.
“I can’t get over… how good you feel…” Jack whispered hoarsely, eyes black in desire as he thrust his hips in a steady rhythm, chest rocking her breasts up and down. She reveled in the roughness, the frantic, eager lust in which they clashed with each other, in how he nibbled her ear, huffing hot bursts of air underneath it, causing constant ripples of warm shock to course through her body. In the cold light of day, their bodies were perfectly illuminated as they writhed on the sheets, finding solace and happiness in one another, a desire and lust that could only be satisfied by their being together. He moved inside her, gliding, and she rocked her body with him. In the few relationships Whitney experienced in her life, nothing compared to this feeling, of a perfect human being who desired her as much as she needed him, entwined in an intimate embrace. Everything about the moment sought to send the fears within to rest, replacing them with light and happiness, and longing.
/> There would always be a place for them somewhere, but right now, she was in the arms of someone who complimented her in every way. His movement stirred the knot of pleasure in her stomach, gently teasing it in that oh-so-sweet way – but Whitney didn’t want him to be gentle. She wanted to consume him, and clawed his sides, bit his neck lightly, sucking to leave her mark. He growled in response, and thrust his hips harder, his legs creating delicious friction between her thighs. Their sweat mingled as the pace increased, causing the bed beneath them to rock in tandem, and she moaned her delight, arching and rearing to meet him.
“Whitney…” Jack stopped thrusting for a moment, kissing her on the lips, tongue flicking out to meet hers. “I want to be with you. I want this. I want you to be mine.”
“I am,” Whitney replied.
If anything, she could have sworn she felt his length inside her thicken at the declaration. She saw his arms trembling in excitement and happiness. His face split into the biggest smile she’d ever seen.
He started moving inside her again, and she wrapped her legs around him, urging him on with her moans. The movement became frantic, burning, and she met him every step of the way, thoughts blanking out as they became overridden by the sheer sensory information her body went through under the touch of Jack. Her legs trembled and twitched, the muscles in them tightening.
The promised orgasm came, and then some. Whitney blacked out for a few seconds, unable to process the monstrous surge of pleasure that drenched her limbs. Jack came inside her with a grunt of pleasure. Whitney felt so sensitive, that every thrust caused her to flinch – and Jack pulled out, only to wrap her to him like something precious.
They stayed in each other’s warm clutches, even as the heat gradually grew uncomfortable between them.
This is where I belong, Whitney thought. Here.
“I’m gonna just stare at you now,” Jack said, not taking his eyes off hers. They had pulled the bed covers over to retain the heat, and now slowly wriggled out of them.
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