A Hundred Ways to Love

by Ellie Wade

  “Agreed.” I squeeze her hand in mine.

  She props herself up on her elbow and looks at me. “You were so worth the wait.”

  I chuckle. “Good. But there’s no more holding out anymore. We’re going to be doing that a lot more often.”

  “Uh, yeah … like, every day,” she agrees.

  “And twice on Sundays.”

  She blows out a puff of air. “Or more.”

  I lift my hand to her cheek. “So, you’re really mine?”

  “I’m completely yours, Liam,” she says with sincerity.

  “No more running.”

  “I’m never leaving you again. I promise.”

  “I love you, Len.”

  “I love you, Liam.”

  She lowers her head, and her lips find mine once more.

  twenty-two

  Liam

  Leni sits on the floor of her studio, her legs out to her side. She’s wearing a flowy sundress, a pale yellow, like the first rays of sunshine that warm the earth each morning. Her locks, the color of sweet cinnamon, are curled, cascading over her shoulders in waves. The bright sun streams in through the windows, seemingly pointed directly on her, showcasing her in light. In profile, she looks like a Grecian goddess.

  My goddess.

  She hasn’t noticed me yet, and I’m glad. I welcome the stolen moment, appreciating all that she is—all that’s now mine. I love watching her in her element. There’s a certain quality a person who is truly happy radiates, and I think that Leni is filled with joy, maybe for the first time in her life. The best part is that she finally realizes it. She no longer thinks this is simply a pit stop on her journey. In the whole scheme of things, it hasn’t been that long since Leni came back into my life, and yet the change in her is obvious, so palpable that I can feel the happiness in this space on my skin like a soft blanket, comforting and safe. It wasn’t that long ago that walking into a room with Leni felt like entering an ice box, the air frigid enough to steal one’s breath.

  The long brush in her hand flicks lightly against the canvas before her, a soft jade accenting the leaves of a tall oak. She tilts her head to the side to study her work, seeing details that only she as the artist is privy to.

  Sometimes, I still can’t believe that she’s mine, and we’re happy.

  I’m not sure why, but deep down, I always believed we’d end up together. Despite every horrible thing we’ve been through, I could never love someone else the way in which I love her. From the first moment I met her, a young girl with a fiery spirit, she became my other half, someone I cherished, valued, needed in my life. At an age where I’d recently learned how to write my last name by myself or tie my shoes without making the laces into bunny ears first, I still realized that Eleanora Turner was something special, someone that I wanted in my life in more ways than I could fully grasp at the time.

  As I watch her now, nostalgia pulls me in. Memories of everything we were, went through, and lost to end up here play across my heart, and I feel so lucky to have made it to this point. All the stages of my life have been shaped and molded into our current reality because her existence was so deeply embedded in who I was, who I am.

  My thoughts drift to an important milestone, though it’s one I don’t enjoy dwelling on—the day I grew up, largely because of Leni, on my seventeenth birthday, one of the worst days of my life. Yet that day forced me to stand tall and keep going, even when I wanted to crumble. The thing is that life isn’t always wonderful, but one’s got to suck it up and move on. The world isn’t going to stop because I’m hurting.

  And it didn’t stop. Leni broke my heart, more than she ever had, and I had to take a deep breath and go help my dad on the ranch with the realization that I might never see Leni again. I didn’t have a choice, and that feeling of uncertainty is humbling and scary as hell. But, every day since, I’ve gotten up each morning and put one foot in front of the other regardless of whether I wanted to or not.

  Leni’s moment happened much later, perhaps because of the environment in which she had been raised, her stubbornness, or a combination of the two. I don’t think she truly grew up until recently, and it wasn’t all at once. I think there’ve been many pivotal moments over the past year that Leni needed in order to turn into the person she was destined to be, starting with losing everything and having to leave New York and finally culminating in the barn when she realized that she might actually lose me.

  Every day isn’t perfect. By nature, we’ll always be imperfect, as all people are, but it’s as close as it can be. Additionally, for the first time in my life, I’m not waiting for the ball to drop. I’m not afraid of something happening that will cause her to leave. I know she’s mine, and I know she always will be.

  Leni looks up from her painting, noticing me in the doorway. “Oh, hey. Are we ready to go?”

  “Yep.” I nod and push off of the doorframe. “Mimi just finished packaging up the food.” I eye the canvas in front of her. “I thought that one was finished?”

  Leni stands and peers down at the picture of a beautiful Texas landscape. “I thought so, too, but it needed a little more dimension on the leaves of the tree.” She drops her paintbrush into the cup of liquid by the easel. “But it’s good now.”

  She grins and closes the gap between us. When she reaches me, she drapes her arms around my neck, and her full lips press against mine. Her tongue licks at my lips, searching for entry, and I willingly comply. I take the kiss deeper, exploring all the ways in which our tongues can move together. I could kiss Leni all day.

  A quiet sigh escapes her lips when I finally pull away.

  “Do we have to go?” she protests.

  “Yes.” I let out a chuckle.

  “Fine, but we shall resume this later.” She smacks my ass before leading the way downstairs.

  I grab the dishes from Mimi, and the three of us hop into my truck.

  A short drive later, we’re in town at Emily and Westley’s house.

  “Where would you like the food Mrs. Turner made?” I ask Westley as we enter the foyer.

  “On the table is fine. Thanks,” he tells me before extending a hug to Mimi and thanking her for the dishes.

  I steal a glance at Leni as she smiles at her grandmother, so much pride radiating from her.

  Mrs. Turner is known as one of the best cooks in our small town, and she never passes up an opportunity to share her talent with others. You sneeze too loud, and you’re bound to receive a casserole from her. Food is definitely her love language, and she hands it out like candy. She has a lot of love to give. Leni is really Mrs. Turner’s only real family left besides Leni’s parents, though no one counts them. Yet she’s one of the most cherished members of our community. Family isn’t just those you’re related to by blood; it’s the people one surrounds themselves with, the ones they love.

  As I place the ceramic dishes on the table, I hear the high shrills of adoration coming from the living room. It’s the call of women and babies.

  Stepping into the living room, I see Leni with a bundle in a pink crocheted blanket cradled in her arms. She’s gazing down toward the soft pile with utter amazement in her eyes. I step closer, so I’m able to see the tiny human who’s garnering all the affection. She’s adorable, as most babies are. Though, to me, the most beautiful creature in this space is Leni. She’s mesmerizing, and seeing her like this—happy, carefree, and content—makes her more gorgeous than ever.

  God, I love her.

  “Do you want to see her?” Leni motions toward the infant.

  “She’s precious.” I nod.

  “Isn’t she?” she says before directing her words toward Emily, who is resting, looking a little tired, in the recliner. “She’s just incredible, Em. Beyond perfect.”

  “She is,” Emily agrees. “Though she’d be a tad more perfect if she slept for more than forty-five minutes at a time.” She chuckles softly.

  “What’s her name again?” I ask.

  “Sadie Mae,” West
ley states from beside me.

  I chat with Westley as Mimi and Leni continue to gush over Sadie, taking turns in holding the baby.

  “We’d better get going,” Mimi states. “I know you two must be exhausted. We don’t want to overstay our welcome. We just wanted to bring you some food and meet the little angel.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Turner. So much,” Emily says while pulling Mimi into a hug and kissing her cheek.

  On our way out, we run into Pete and Melody heading toward the house. Melody holds a bouquet of flowers in her hands, and Pete holds their baby boy.

  “Fancy seeing you here.” Melody chuckles. “How’s little Sadie?”

  “Amazing,” Leni answers. “Though Emily looks tired.”

  Melody shakes her head. “Oh, don’t I know that feeling?” She shoots a faux glare toward her little one in her husband’s arms. “They’re lucky they’re so cute. Well, we won’t stay long. Just wanted to give our congratulations.”

  As Leni helps Mimi into the truck, I pull Pete aside. “Hey, man. Can you give me a call sometime this week? I’m ready to move forward with the house.”

  “Nice. Absolutely.” He grins knowingly. “It will be great. Talk to you soon.”

  Leni lies atop me, my arms circled around her middle. Her head rests against my chest as we use a pile of straw as a bed. Leni traces lazy circles across the skin of my arm. The scent of the fresh straw beneath us and Leni’s fruity body wash creates a heady sensation of happiness and lust within me. I love these moments of quiet. There are no words, just the feeling of Leni in my arms paired with the sounds of the ranch—my utopia.

  I know I should break the spell and go do some work, but I can’t make myself move from this spot. Seeing Leni hold that baby this morning was one of the biggest turn-ons. I can’t wait to make a baby with her. All in good time. I realize I should probably propose and marry her first though. It’s conflicting—wanting to enjoy every second and take it slow and wanting to start forever right now. I’m confident that everything I’ve ever wanted with Leni is possible, so I know there’s no need to rush through it. I can’t lie and say that thinking of her taking my name—Leni Moore—doesn’t make me want to marry her today.

  “What are you thinking about?” Leni asks on cue.

  “Marrying you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I can hear the smile in her voice.

  “Oh, yeah.” My voice is low, gravelly, and full of need.

  I brush her hair off of her shoulder and kiss her neck, biting gently. Leni sighs, leaning deeper back into me.

  “I love you, Leni Turner,” I whisper between kisses.

  “I love you,” she says on an exhale.

  I slide my hands down her side, the thin fabric of her sundress the only barrier between my palms and her soft skin. Grabbing the material, I pull, wadding it up in my hands until I’ve dragged it up to her chest. My hands glide across the taut skin of her abdomen and then down, dipping a finger between the band of her panties. She pulls in a deep breath.

  I allow my finger to linger, lightly tracing back and forth where the elastic meets her skin. She grinds back into me, her ass pressing against my hard length beneath my jeans. I move my hands up until I reach her bra. With one movement, I snap it up, exposing her perfect breasts. I groan and grind into her from behind as my teeth tug on her ear.

  She whimpers as my hands cup her breasts before I work her nipples between my fingers. Her head presses firmly into my collarbone as she moves against me. Each brush of her backside against my jeans sends a thrilling need up my spine.

  Leaving her breasts, I trail my hands down her stomach, wanting to brand her with my touch, making her mine forever. Reaching her legs, I push her knees out to the side, so she’s wide open, and this time, when my hand reaches beneath her panties, it keeps going until my fingers are in her warmth.

  She’s so wet and ready. Her breaths are frantic and needy as she moans out my name.

  “Liam,” she groans into the air as my fingers work inside her.

  “Yes, baby?” I whisper into her ear.

  “Liam,” she says on a sigh that almost sounds pained.

  I know what she wants, and I want to give it to her. I pull my fingers out of her, pulling her wetness up to the spot where she needs me most. I quickly rub against her bundle of nerves while my mouth kisses her exposed neck, and my pelvis grinds into her, desperate for relief.

  “Liam,” she cries as my fingers work faster.

  I use my free hand to tug on her nipple while my fingers below rub firmly. Leni lifts her pelvis, pressing herself harder into my hand, desperate for release. Her legs start to shake, and her body follows. Every inch of her quivers as she cries out my name, a guttural sound that makes me want to explode.

  As soon as Leni’s body stops quivering, she stands and steps out of her soaked panties. I unzip my pants and pull them down, so I’m ready. Leni straddles me and slides down on my hard shaft. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back into the straw on a heated sigh. She always feels so amazing, so perfect, and so mine. I grab her hips and guide her, and she bounces up and down on me.

  I’ll never get enough of her for as long as I live.

  I’ll always want more.

  More Leni.

  More sex.

  More everything.

  Leni presses her forehead against mine. Our collected breaths are loud, our sweaty bodies coming together again and again and again. She rides me fast and hard, chasing pleasure.

  We reach our destinations together. Just as she starts to shake, I come hard. I capture my name from her lips as she screams.

  Still connected to me, she falls onto me, and I wrap her in my arms. Our hearts pound beneath our chests. I kiss the top of her head and pull the hair off of her slick cheek.

  The itchy straw sticking to my damp thighs so annoyingly reminds me that we desperately need to shower. But I can’t bring myself to release my grasp on Leni just yet.

  twenty-three

  Leni

  “Admit it,” I say with a grin under the spray of the shower. “You installed this room and bathroom, so you could shower after getting laid. Didn’t you?” The warm water hits my face, and I wipe it from my eyes, not wanting to miss a second of the view.

  I find everything about Liam attractive, but there’s something about him all wet and slippery that’s simply candy for my eyes. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, inside and out.

  Liam’s lips turn up into a smile, his fingers rubbing shampoo into his hair. “No. I told you why. It was just easier because I’m always here. You’re the first girl to shower in my barn, Len.”

  I pucker my lips, quirking up an eyebrow. “Really? You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “So, you’ve never fucked another girl in this barn?”

  His lips turn up with a sexy grin. “Just you,” he says as he takes his soapy hands and quickly pulls down on my nipples before releasing them.

  Startled, I yelp in surprise.

  “And you’ll be the only girl I’ll ever make love to here or anywhere else,” he promises me.

  “You’re such a romantic,” I tease, running my hands up his chest.

  I love the feel of his firm muscles underneath my touch. Liam is all muscle, and it’s the muscle that one gets from hard work. He doesn’t spend hours lifting at the gym, and yet his defined chest would rival anyone who does. His physique is a result of his passion for what he does, working fiercely to be the best in his field. He’s determined and strong.

  I work my hands from his chest to his abdomen before he grabs my wrist.

  “I wouldn’t go any further if I were you,” he warns.

  “Or what?”

  “Or we won’t be leaving this shower anytime soon.”

  I twist my wrist from his grasp and move my hand further down. I wrap my fingers around his shaft, which is hard and ready for me. “Then, I guess we won’t be leaving this shower anytime soon.”

  I can’t wipe t
he obnoxious grin from my face as I throw a clean T-shirt over my head. I was finally able to break free from my fascination with Liam for long enough to come inside for some clean clothes. I wonder how it looks to Mimi that I return from the barn every day freshly showered, only to go upstairs and change into some new clothes. Surely, she realizes what’s going on, but she thankfully never says anything. As passionate as Mimi is about life and loving everyone who’s in hers, I’m sure she was the same with my pops, not that I want to think about it in detail. There are some things in life that I just don’t want to imagine. I bet I’m very similar to Mimi when she was my age. I had to inherit some of my spirit from her. Goodness knows I didn’t get it from my mother.

  Though, seriously, Liam and I can’t help it. I’m officially obsessed with him. It’s nearly impossible for me to keep my hands off him, especially when he’s working, sweating, and doing manly things. He’s hot—and not like how a lot of guys are attractive. He’s the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen, and even from age thirteen, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist him. Thankfully, I don’t have to anymore.

  Mimi’s landline rings downstairs, causing me to smile as I think about how much I’ve changed these past months. I love it here now in the world of landlines, three-channel TV, homemade bread, and barn sex. It’s so vastly different from my life in New York, the life I thought I needed to be happy. I was so lost most of my life. I’ve truly just found myself and experienced what it means to be happy.

  “Leni girl,” Mimi calls from downstairs, and a shiver runs down my spine at the sound of her voice.

  I finish zipping up my shorts and open my bedroom door.

  I hurry down the stairs where Mimi is waiting. “Yeah?” I ask.

  “Um, well … that was your mother on the phone. Your father had a heart attack.”

  Mimi’s words resonate in my mind, but I have a hard time registering their meaning.

  A heart attack?

  The words clash with everything my father is. Though he’s evil and hardheaded, he’s strong. I can’t imagine anything bringing him down, least of all his own body.