Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Hayden
WHEN IT JUST FEELS RIGHT
I could tell the moment I saw him slowly trudging toward his cabin, kicking the gravel with the toe of his cowboy boots, that something was wrong.
His normally enthusiastic grin was missing, replaced by a frown and downturned mouth.
For a split second, I thought about leaving before he spotted me, but the thought didn’t sit right in my gut.
I just couldn’t walk away with him looking so lost.
I didn’t press for details, just walked quietly with him around the property, holding his arm as the sounds of the ranch echoed around us. Solar lights hung from the trees that line the crushed quartz walkways, illuminating them in a warm glow.
“Do you want to come in?” Connor asks, taking a step toward his cabin door.
I really want to. I’m hard just from the feel of his mouth on mine, but a few minutes ago, he was talking about being alone, and while I can relate, I have this nagging feeling that whatever would happen in there tonight would be more about that feeling and not about us.
“How about we talk for a bit,” I say instead, and he takes a measured breath, smiles, and leads me over to the tree opposite his cabin.
It’s about twice the size of the ones that line the path and has giant roots that weave around its base like interlaced fingers.
He sits in the well of two roots and gently guides me to sit between his legs.
I lean back against his warm chest, heartbeats coming slow and steady, and as his large arms wrap around me, I let my head loll back and look up through the naked branches into the night sky.
“Do you want to tell me about your day?” I ask, and he sighs.
“I’d rather hear about your book. Did you get any more writing done today?”
“Actually, yes. I managed three more chapters. I swear this ranch must have magic powers.”
He chuckles, and the way it vibrates through me sends a swirl in my gut.
“I’d say this place is about as magical as any place in the world could be.”
“Oh, I also saw the fainting horse today.”
“Loki?”
“Yeah, weird name for a horse. But the way he just goes stiff like that. I thought only goats did that.”
“He’s gotten a lot better, if you can believe that.”
“Seriously?” I ask, thinking back to when Atlas took the Christmas Experience guests through the horse stables.
Loki was one of the last horses in the stalls, and the second Atlas opened the door for him to come out, and he caught sight of us, his eyes went wide, and he went stiff, slowly falling to the side like he’d been shot.
Atlas assured us that he would be fine, just spooked easily since he’s deaf and doesn’t hear us coming.
“Yeah, I caught him the other week in the far paddock on his back with his legs up in the air, pumping them like he was running on air.”
I laugh. “I would have loved to have seen that.”
“Looks like it might snow soon, so doubt he’ll be keen to go rolling around out there for a while.
You should see this place in the spring, though.
The grass is so green, and the fields have patches of clover, and the woods behind the ranch have whole sections covered in purple and yellow flowers.
If you think this place is magic now, you’d be certain seeing it then. ”
“Do you really think it will snow?”
“Yeah, the forecast says tomorrow or the next day, just in time for you all to get your perfect white Christmas on the ranch.”
“I’m not sure what a perfect Christmas even looks like,” I say before I realize what I’ve said.
“Since you don’t have your family to spend it with? Is that why you brought Wendy here this year?”
“Kind of. Her plans fell through, so she sort of invited herself, but I don’t mind. I should have invited her before.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“She was supposed to see her family.”
“And you didn’t want her to feel like she had to stay with you just because you don’t have family?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m glad you both came.”
“You won’t be glad when Wendy tries to steal a piglet to take home with her.”
“She’s seen their mum, right?”
“Yeah, but she thinks it’s like a goldfish; if she keeps it in a small space, it won’t grow that big.”
“That’s not even remotely factual.”
I shrug, the cool air whips around us, and his arms tighten, warming me through.
“Just be sure to count them before we leave.”
“I’ll do that. Hey, you dodged the question about your book. Please tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“It’s not that I’m worried you’ll tell anyone, I guess… I’m worried you’ll hate it, and suddenly I won’t be able to write anymore.”
He shifts, unwrapping me from his arms.
“Turn around,” he says, and I wriggle myself around between his legs, holding my knees to my chest.
“Closer,” he says, taking my ankles and lifting my legs to hang over his, then pulls me close enough that my ass is now in his lap and his hands are pressed against the small of my back, radiating heat through my whole body.
“I could never hate something you wrote.”
“Why not? Plenty of people have before.”
“Who?” he asks in almost a throaty, overprotective growl that I don’t hate.
I shrug. “Just people, you know, for the articles I’ve written before, some people don’t like them.”
“Then they can go and get fucked. You aren’t other people’s opinions of you.”
I lift my head for the first time since turning in his lap and find his kind, glistening blue eyes waiting for me.
“You really want to know about my book?”
“Hell yes,” he says, smile growing wide. “Okay, so you said it’s a romance and there was a big, strong, handsome cowboy. Oh, you said there was a twist, but you never told me what it was,” he says, mouth open in exaggerated disbelief. “And after I made you coffee and everything.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you,” I say, and he settles back against the tree again, sliding his hands under my ass to lift me, and I sink deeper into his lap.
“That’s better,” he says, kissing along my jaw.
“I thought you wanted to hear about the twist?” I say, and he hums.
“I can multi-task,” he murmurs, kissing further toward my neck and sending a shiver through me.
“It’s really hard to remember what I wrote when you’re doing that,” I reason.
“So you haven’t gotten to this stage in your book yet?”
“What do you mean?” I ask as he lifts his head.
“It’s a romance, so there will be…romantic times between your big, strong cowboy and his lover, right?” he asks, and I feel my face go a degree warmer.
“There is…will be. I mean, I haven’t… I’m really not explaining this right.”
“Okay, I’ll behave,” he says, kissing me quickly on the lips and moving his hands back to the small of my back.
“Why do I get the sense you’re lying?”
“Because you’re smart.” He chuckles and kisses me again.
“My main character is smart, too. He’s a detective, actually.”
“Ohhh, the cowboy and the cop.”
“And the killer,” I say, and his brows go up.
“Tell me more.”
The excited grin on his face is just adorable as he listens to me explain the first couple of chapters and the plan I have for the first half of the book.
I’ve never really talked about my writing, I mean, except for with Wen, and she’s my best friend, so we talk about everything.
This is different; while Wen is genuinely supportive, Connor is outright excited.
“Oh, oh, like when the butcher of Bakerville turned out to be an actual butcher?” he asks, bouncing me excitedly in his lap.
“Yeah, I thought the city cop could come to town following clues from murders all across the state, and he suspects the cowboy, so he tries to get close to him, you know…to see if he can catch him in the act or slipping up, or whatever—“
“But they fall for each other?” he interrupts.
“Yeah, but I don’t know how they find the real killer yet, and I sort of need to figure that out to weave in the clues for the reader through the book, too.”
“Oh, what if the cop falls for him but still thinks he could be the killer, and he maybe finds something that points right to the cowboy as the killer, and he has to choose to confront him or turn him in or whatever?”
My pulse quickens as I turn over his suggestion in my mind, playing out the different scenarios until I stumble on one that clicks.
“I think that will actually work, yes, I need to write this down,” I say, moving to climb off him, but he pulls me close and links his thick arms around me, pinning me to him. “Oh, do you want a special thank-you for giving me the idea?” I ask, but he shakes his head.
He slides his hands under my ass and somehow manages to stand, holding me to him in one smooth movement. He’s moved us enough away from the tree that I can link my feet behind his back.
“I will take a kiss,” he says, and I cup his face and bring my lips slowly toward his, pausing a breath away.
“I’m not sure that is a high enough price you’re charging me. It was a really good idea,” I say, and he laughs.
“I don’t want payment. You don’t owe me anything, ever.”
“So the kiss—“
“It’s just because I love the way your mouth feels on mine.”
If I wasn’t already aching for him, that line would have me climbing him like a tree just to kiss him. Since I’m already up here, I do. Our faces mash together, kissing him hard, tongues fighting for control as my fingers slide up the back of his neck and grip his thick blond locks.
He moans into my mouth, and then we’re moving, turning, and then he’s shoving his cabin door open with his back, and we fall onto his bed.