Denver
: I found your old saddle while I was cleaning shit out of the shed. Should test it out sometime.
Blair: Found it? Or went looking for it so you had a reason to text me?
: As if I couldn’t think of a million other reasons to text you.
Blair: Name one.
: I saw a lab puppy in town, there was a grumpy cat meme that looked like you, I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked when I saw you at the big house earlier
Blair: Did you just compliment and insult my appearance in the same text?
: It was a cute cat, and you looked really good
The past couple weeks have been a frenzied mixture of our typical summer work on the ranch—getting the hay cut and stored, checking on the grazing herds, fixing fences—combined with a lot of wedding prep for an event the women keep insisting is “low-key.” Plus, Blair is in a state of constant motion, always moving between a million tasks. So I’m left pining.
The way we’re texting every day while pretending like there’s nothing else going on is awfully reminiscent of when we first started dating as teens and were too nervous to tell our families. But back then, we could steal kisses in the barn or hold hands on the bus to get us by. Now it’s glimpses from afar when she’s on the ranch, our daily text conversations, and a couple of midnight phone calls to keep me on the hook.
And God, does Blair Hart know how to keep me hooked. Last week, she wore a miniskirt that the fashion gods obviously designed for quickies bent over her fucking desk. Today, a low-cut tank top and something spread across her freckled chest to make it shimmer in the sunlight as she helps Cecily decide how to lay out the reception tables. It doesn’t help knowing our tests both came back negative, and the next time I fuck her will be with nothing between us.
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but the only thing happening for me is that I’m becoming accustomed to my dick being in a permanent semihard state, because I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want her.
Staring intently while I pretend to check the oil in a ranch pickup, I don’t notice a group of guys come up behind me until a hand slaps me square between the shoulder blades. Colt grins, sidling up next to me. With a rough throat clearing, I adjust my hat and give him a curt hello.
“Staring at the hot nurse?” One of the ranch hands, Rob, chuckles, and a few join in.
“Nurse practitioner. And shut the fuck up.” I glare over my shoulder at him.
He snorts. “ Fucking hell. Nobody drink the water ’round here, there’s gotta be something in it. First Red, now Denny.”
Colt glances in my direction out of the corner of his eye, giving me a look that says he’s considering punching Rob on my behalf.
“Sounds like you could use some, Rob.” I jab my finger into his side. “When’s the last time anybody touched your ugly ass?”
Colt howls, punching Rob in the upper arm. “No magical water is going to get this guy laid, that’s for sure.”
I shake my head and drop to the ground, sliding back under the truck. At some point, the sound of a dozen or so cowboy boots crunch across the rocky driveway, slowly fading into nothing. Dolly Parton’s playing softly somewhere in the distance—likely back at the house—and I hum along while I daydream about Blair, preparing to drain the oil pan at a painstakingly slow pace.
Something taps my boot, and I shake it away. Probably Colt’s dog dropping a stick on my foot to play fetch. Then an unmistakable kick to the heel.
“Jesus, all right, all right. ” I finish up and shimmy along the piece of cardboard laid on the ground. Ducking under the bumper, I nearly smoke my skull on the metal when I realize it’s Blair crouched at the front of the pickup.
“Hey,” I croak, reaching for a rag to wipe my filthy hands. “What’s up?”
“You can’t be over here with a fucking backwards hat on, doing all this manly shit, and expect me not to notice.”
I raise an eyebrow and smirk at her. “ Really? This is what does it for ya, eh?”
Her soft, clean hands brush against the stubble on my cheeks and she kisses me. Slow, deep, and like she’s not worried at all about somebody coming across us. Which, given how many people live and work on this ranch, is pretty damn likely.
“I needed to do that before I go,” she says against my lips. “It’s been a long couple weeks.”
“You know I’ll sneak in your bedroom window anytime.” I kiss her again, my arms aching from the restraint it’s taking to not touch her.
“We’re in our thirties. That’s fucked up.”
“What’s fucked up is that we’re alone for the first time in weeks, and you’re fully dressed still.”
Despite her expensive-looking trousers and shoes that don’t belong on a ranch, she sits down on the grass and squints in the sun. “Well, get back to work, and maybe watching you pull wrenches will be sexy enough I won’t be able to stay dressed for long.”
“You’re a weirdo.”
“So I’ve been told. Anyway, how is this different from you watching me in my office? Go back to work now.” Her hand flaps to shoo me away. “Turn the wrench, or change the thing, or whatever it is you’re doing.”
“Yes, boss.” I duck under the bumper, skidding across the cardboard laid over rocky ground. “Let me just turn the wrench and change the thing.”
“Good boy,” she coos.
“If I get a hard-on while changing the oil, I’ll never be able to live it down.”
Her laugh reverberates through the chassis overhead, and I steal glances from under the truck as a steady stream of engine oil flows out into a bucket. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Leaned back on her hands in the grass, more freckles than stars in the galaxy, and the tiny natural uptick on the right side of her mouth.
It’s always been her for me. I just need to prove I’m still the one for her.
When I climb out from under the truck, I wipe my clean- ish forearm against my sweat-soaked forehead. And Blair, my perfect weirdo, eye-fucks the shit out of me.
“As fun as it’s been to watch you with that backwards hat, covered in dirt and grease, duty calls. I have to head to the clinic to meet with a patient, then go pick up Jonas because Whit’s convinced he’s going to cause trouble if he sits around alone all summer. Plus, I need to work out….” Her nose crinkles, and if she didn’t look quite so concentrated, I’d offer up that riding me could count as exercise. “Oh, and make dinner because Dad’s working late. Then I promised Mom I’d do puzzles with her tonight. If I skip it, this will be the one time she remembers that I told her I’d do something.”
“And then, and then, and then…” I roll my eyes playfully. “And then, when you’re ready for bed, you’re going to text me so I know it’s a safe time to sneak in your window.”
She salutes. “Yes, sir. I’ll add it to the to-do list for the day—fingers crossed I remember it all.”
“You’re the only thing on my to-do list, so I’ll send you a reminder. Or thirty. Probably in the form of nudes.”
“Nudes and cat memes, if our text history is any indication.”
Her phone beeps from within her purse, and she grimaces when she looks at the screen, her pretty shoe tapping on the gravel driveway. “ Fuck. I knew I was forgetting something. Shit. ”
“What’s up?”
“It’s Dad—I totally forgot to pick up Mom’s prescription before I came out here this morning. Fuck. Now I’ll have to find the time….” As she stares off toward a tree line beyond the closest hayfield, I swear I can see the gears turning in her brain.
“Does she need it right away?” I ask. “If not, I can grab it when I’m done here. Bring it over tonight.”
She shakes her head no. “Well…she doesn’t need it until tomorrow, but fuck, I can’t believe I forgot—yes, I can. I forget everything.”
“ Hey. ” I interrupt her runaway train of words. “I’ll pick it up.”
“You will?” She bends down, letting her pristine, painted fingers dance across my filthy jawline.
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” she whispers against my lips before planting one last kiss.
Blair turns to walk away and I lean back against the bumper, watching her practically skip across the grass, with dark hair bouncing over her shoulders. Opening the car door, she turns to look in my direction, and her fingers leave the metal door edge in a half wave before she slips inside and drives off.
The dust hasn’t settled from her leaving, and I’m picking up the phone to call her dad. I might not be able to lessen the pain of giving up her life to move here, or the devastation that comes with knowing your mom is dying, but I can pick up prescriptions and help with her nephew. I can check a box on her to-do list. It’s not enough, but it’s what I have to give. So I make polite small talk with Frank Hart, wrap up the phone call by asking for his younger daughter’s phone number, then clear my plan with Blair’s sister, Whit.
Denny: Need you to go pick something up for me
Colt: Right now? What is it?
Denny: A 10-year-old up in Wells Canyon. Bring him to the ranch and give him some chores to do.
Colt: That sounds like a crime.
: Don’t make it creepy, and you’ll be fine. It’s Blair’s nephew.
Then I finish the oil change and strip out of the filthy coveralls before heading over to the big house. Heat waves radiate off the gravel, and there’s a slight hint of smoke in the air from a forest fire raging a few valleys over. Between the heat and unseasonably dry conditions, we’re in for a doozy of a summer. Possibly even worse than the drought and crappy haying season we had last year.
Brushing dirt from my pants at the bottom of the porch stairs, I stick my tongue out at Odessa, who’s currently fucking with some flowers she’s definitely not supposed to be fucking with.
And she knows it.
“Uncle Denny,” she yells, jumping up with a startled expression, pretending she wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“Oh, Kaaaate,” I sing—not loud enough for Kate to actually hear, given how loud the music is blasting inside the house. I just want to scare the kid straight.
“No!” Odessa charges toward me. “Don’t call her. I wasn’t doing nothin’.”
“Quit fuckin’ with the flowers, or your mom and aunties are going to kill you.”
She puts her hands on her hips and stares me down. “Swear jar.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I tousle her hair. “Serious, though. I won’t have your back if you wreck the flowers right before the wedding.”
Heading inside, it’s no surprise to find the women, along with Cecily’s mom, frantically prepping food. Once again, I’m questioning if they understand the meaning of “low-key,” but this doesn’t seem like a good time to call them out. Instead, I make eye contact with Austin, raising my brows at the commotion.
Openly singing along to Dolly Parton, I scooch past Beryl and Cecily to get to the coffee machine, then back again to sit across from my brother. Dropping the loose change from my pocket into Odessa’s swear jar on the way by.
“How full of regret are you about asking her to marry you?” I ask Aus, tilting my head in the direction of the gaggle of women huddled around the kitchen island.
“No regrets.”
“Not even about choosing to have coffee here even though your house has perfectly good coffee and a quieter kitchen?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head, bringing the white mug, full to the brim, to his lips. Then he mumbles, “I’ll put up with the loud to make her happy.”
If that isn’t the most raw thing I’ve ever heard my brother say. But I get it, because I would put up with my worst nightmares for Blair with zero hesitation.
: Reminder: I’m coming over tonight
: No nude, because I think my family would frown on that at the kitchen table
: And remove Jonas from your list, I got it covered and cleared it with Whit.
: Yes, I know you could’ve handled it yourself, but now you don’t have to.
Blair: You didn’t have to do that
: You can thank me tonight
Blair: I have some ideas
I’m staring at my phone like a love-drunk fool when Cassidy sits next to me to nurse Hazel. Except I’m pretty sure she didn’t come here just for that purpose—not when there are a hundred other places to sit.
“What are your intentions with my best friend?” Never one to beat around the bush or worry about being polite, she stares me down, and Austin snickers under his breath. “Because I’m prepared to hurt you, if I need to.”
“Very threatening, Cass.” Hazel’s tiny socked foot kicks my arm and I grab it, gently encompassing her entire foot in my hand. “You even have the baby doing your dirty work for you.”
“I’m serious, Denny. You can’t treat her like all the other girls around here.”
“Good thing she’s from Vancouver, so I guess I’ll treat her like an out-of-towner then.” I reach across the table, stealing a cookie from Austin’s plate. He reaches to smack me, but misses and gives up. Eyes jumping between Cassidy and me, he probably assumes she’s going to give it to me worse than he could anyway.
“Denny, cut the shit,” Cass says, only taking her death glare off me for long enough to adjust Hazel. Then she’s right back to calling me out. “I’m doing my best-friend duty. I’ve watched you fuck around with God knows how many women over the years, until you get bored and move on. You can’t do that to her.”
“I’d never do that to her.”
“Just everybody else?”
My heart sinks, and I look to my brother for backup. What a time for him to be silently reading, ignoring us entirely.
“They’re not Blair, and you’re not stupid. You know this is different.”
Like it or not, there’s never been any denying Blair’s incomparable to any other woman from my past. Whether she would’ve come back a week after we broke up or twenty years from now, no amount of time would change how I feel. Sure, way back then I was more than a little pissed that she didn’t seem to care about my feelings or opinions—disregarding the fact that I loved her and wanted to make it work. But now I understand why she did what she thought she had to do, and I’m not too proud to admit I fucked up by letting my selfishness come between us.
“ Please don’t fuck it up, okay? I don’t think Chase would appreciate me murdering his best friend.”
Austin’s mug clunks against the tabletop. “And don’t fuck it up before this weekend, because a murder would put a real damper on the wedding.”
“What would put a damper on the wedding?” Cecily slides onto Austin’s lap, clutching a mug in her hands.
“We’re just reminding Denny to keep it in his pants for a few days so I don’t have to kill him,” Cass says.
Cecily turns to look at Austin over her shoulder. “Should we go down to the courthouse right now? Because I think we’re doomed if we’re relying on your brother to keep things to himself.”
“ Jesus, have a little faith in me, Filly.” I laugh to disguise how much I fucking hate this.
I hate knowing this is the way everyone thinks of me—despite understanding that their perception is entirely my own fault. After losing so much, I kept women at arm’s distance. No room for hurt if you don’t fall in love. So I insisted on keeping things casual. Refused to see the same person for more than a few weeks.
And now I know there was never a risk I’d fall for any of them, anyway. Because they weren’t her.
“Starting to think Austin’s hired you all to keep his guys working nonstop, because nobody wants to hang around here for long. No such thing as a relaxing coffee break with you ladies here.” I hold up my mug, still three-quarters full of steaming coffee, and shake my head. “Besides, I’d be a lot more worried about all the other ways I can accidentally fuck up the wedding. If Blair and I decide to be together again, none of you need to worry about me ruining shit. I learned my lesson.”
Before anyone can argue further, I stand and head for the door, bringing my entire coffee—which is distinctly not in a travel mug, but fuck it—along with me. With everyone doubting my ability to not fuck this up, I’m feeling inspired. Blair’s worried about other women, her friends are sure I’ll get bored and dump her right away, and my brother thinks I’ll manage to fuck it up within the next forty-eight hours.
—
Nine. Ten. Eleven. Eleven-thirty. I’m sitting in my truck at the end of Blair’s street, head resting against the steering wheel. My phone illuminates the dark truck cab when I tap the screen for the hundredth time to check if she’s texted me.
Nothing.
Shortly after eight o’clock, I was too antsy to sit in the bunkhouse for another second. So I drove here and parked in my usual hiding spot, just out of sight of her house. Too bad she’s not answering my texts or calls now.
After a long day of doing mechanic work on tractors and pickups, there’s no way I can stay awake for the drive back to the ranch. I either fall asleep on my truck’s bench seat, or I go confront Blair.
I steal across the field next to her house. My feet crunch along the rock pathway to her back garden gate, and the hinges squeak when I let myself in. I freeze in place for a moment, staring at her parents’ window, waiting for signs of life. After no lights have turned on in the few heartbeats I stand waiting, I take my chances and head for her windowsill.
Blair’s bedroom window slides open with ease. A good sign for me that she left it unlocked, but also something I don’t want her to do anymore, for her own safety.
The first-floor window’s low enough I can pull myself up and in with relative ease. Although I’m sure I looked much cooler doing it as a teen.
Stepping foot into the room, I whisper her name, then fall silent to wait for a reply. Within a few seconds, my eyes adjust to the lack of light.
She’s asleep.
My palm slaps my forehead, and I sit on the window ledge, questioning my next move. Either I make do with an uncomfortable-as-fuck truck bench seat, or I curl up behind Blair and have the best sleep of my life.
The choice is obvious, and the payoff worth it, even if she gets mad in the morning.
My shoes fall to the floor with a thud, and I strip down to boxer briefs, then slide under the covers next to Blair. Fully asleep, she responds to the dip in the mattress by feeling around until she finds me. Shimmying until her ass is pressed against me, she grabs my arm and wraps it around her. Small whimpers of contentment fill the room. She’s in a tight tank top and shorts, and I hold a gentle caress of her breast, the sexy barbell pressing into my palm. My lips smooth over her bare, freckled shoulder, then I nuzzle my face into her thick hair and fall asleep faster and deeper than I’ve ever experienced.
—
A loud knock on the door jolts me upright in bed, and I’m only more alarmed when a gruff voice comes from the other side.
“I made breakfast—come get it while it’s hot.” Blair’s dad clears his throat loudly in the way dads tend to do. “And, uh, there’s enough for Denny, so…”
Blair and I stare at each other in silence, listening to Frank’s footsteps carry down the hallway toward the kitchen. Then she starts silently laughing, holding a palm over her mouth.
We didn’t even have sex last night, and my truck is parked down the road…how did he?
“I forgot about the cameras.” Blair laughs under her breath, eyes squeezed tight in embarrassment. “We put up cameras outside the house, in case Mom wanders off. I didn’t think about that.”
“Thank God those didn’t exist when we were younger.” I mindlessly stroke her forearm.
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
“You were going to text me when I was clear to sneak in, and I waited outside for an embarrassingly long amount of time. I’m shocked nobody called the cops.”
“ Crap. I’m sorry.” She winces. “Mom was in a mood, which put Dad in a mood. And I came in here to get some space, but I must’ve fallen asleep. I can’t believe I forgot to text you.”
“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.” I press a kiss to her lips and haul myself from the warmth of her bed to get dressed. Austin might kill me, considering it’s well past daybreak and I should’ve started work hours ago.
“Yet you snuck in here and slept in my bed anyway?”
“You looked awfully lonely in this big bed all by yourself. Anyway, you left the window open, which is basically an invitation.”
“That sounds…slut-shamey.”
“ Jeeeeesus. Not what I meant.” I buckle my belt, watching her search for an outfit in a closet that looks like a bomb went off. Organized chaos is how she used to refer to the way everything in her life is messy, yet she knows exactly where to find the specific item she needs among the disaster.
And when her hands find their way to the hem of her pajama top, I can’t help but step in to help. My fingers skimming down her arms to mingle with hers, she doesn’t stop me from grabbing the shirt and tugging it off in one swift movement. Her breasts bounce slightly when her arms fall back to her sides, and my cock’s pressing against the inside of my jeans already.
“ Fuck. I can’t get over your goddamn tits.”
“Mmm.” She contemplates aloud as she cups them in her hands, staring down at her own chest. There’s no way she doesn’t know that holding her tits together like this has me envisioning cumming all over her chest. “I’m sure you’re used to way bigger. But I mean, at least when they’re this small, there’s less opportunity for sagging. So that’s a nice thing as I get older, I guess. Like, these aren’t even a good handful.”
She stretches her hand wide and palms her left breast. I don’t even know why I bothered putting my pants on this morning. There’s no way I’m not sucking on those nipples while I’m fucking her thirty seconds from now.
“They’re a great mouthful, though.” I lean in and kiss her bare chest, pulling a nipple into my mouth and flicking my tongue across it.
She moans softly, letting go of herself to run her fingers through my hair while I kiss and suck and lick her skin. I gently pinch the barbell between my teeth, and she clamps a hand over her mouth. Then I make my way across her chest, sucking at her, leaving small red marks over every freckle. After a few seconds of making sure her other nipple doesn’t feel unloved, I smile up at her.
“Baby, they’re perfect.” I kiss her, inching our bodies toward the bed. “Everything about you is.”
I slip my hand into her pajama shorts, and her hips buck when I press my middle finger against her clit. Falling onto the bed with me, she bites at my bottom lip.
“.” Our lips smack together. “We. Really. Need. To. Start. The. Day.” Every word punctuated by a kiss, a moan, or a combination of the two. My fingers circle her clit, my cock begs to be inside her, and then her dad pounds on the door again.
“Breakfast is getting cold,” Frank shouts through the door.
“Goddamn it, Frank,” I whisper against Blair’s mouth, eliciting a small snort of laughter from her. I pull my hand from her shorts, capturing her lips with mine one last time.
She slips into a fitted pair of navy trousers, and I reluctantly help clasp her bra—taking one last opportunity to kiss each breast goodbye. Then she stands in front of her vanity mirror, slowly buttoning a striped blouse.
“I can’t believe you gave me hickeys.” She scrubs a finger over a prominent purple-red mark, slightly above the cup of her bra. Based on the look in her eyes, she likes that I marked her skin up.
“Needed to make it clear exactly how much I love your tits. Something to show they belong to me, just in case.”
“In case of what?” She laughs, stealing a glance at me in the mirror between swipes of mascara. “With the exception of you, nobody is seeing me topless. If anything, I should do something to you, just in case .”
“There’s nobody else.” I gently hold her face in my hands, staring into her expansive eyes, begging her to believe me when I say it’s always been her for me. Even if I did a shitty job of showing it for the last decade. “ Nobody. Else. I know I can shout that until my lungs turn blue, and you likely won’t believe me. But the second you came back into town, I couldn’t so much as look in the direction of any girls without thinking of you.”
“I want to believe you,” she mutters.
“Will it help if I get on my knees and beg for forgiveness?” I drop to my knees in front of her, and stare with the best puppy-dog eyes I can muster up.
“I’m not asking for a grown man to beg for forgiveness.” She shakes her head. “I just think we should keep working on getting to know each other again.”
“Oh, so I shouldn’t propose while I’m already down here?” I jokingly clear my throat. “Blair Hart, would you do me the honor of—”
“ . ” She grabs me by the upper arms, tugging me to a standing position. No hiding that cute smile on her lips, though. “You’re being ridiculous. Let’s enjoy the summer, then see where we stand.”
“No, you’re right. We shouldn’t steal Aus and Filly’s thunder by getting engaged the day before their wedding.” I wink at her. “Speaking of which, are you bringing a date?”
“Why? Are you? ” Her voice goes up an octave.
“Well, that would be pretty fucked up, considering I just slept in your bed and vaguely proposed marriage.” I step into Blair, feeling her relax into me when I cradle her head against my chest. “Be my date for the wedding, and we’ll take it day by day from there, if that’s what you want. Please. I’m very clearly not above begging.”
“Day by day, I can do.”