10. Mira
Mira
“Stay with me, Greene. Don’t you leave, you son of a bitch!” The words are familiar to me now as they wake me from sleep. I don’t even bother checking the time. I know it’s about two in the morning.
I slip from my bedroom down the hall and pad into Cord’s room. Like I have every night this week, I sit on the bed next to him, the mattress dipping under my weight. I reach out and run my fingers along his forehead. In his sleep, he leans into my touch, and my heart aches for him.
We’ve spent the past week together, and it’s been the second nicest week of my life.
The first being our honeymoon. Despite my no sex rule, Cord hasn’t once pressured me.
Sure, he wanders around the townhouse shirtless, but what girl is going to complain about getting to see her husband’s six pack on the regular?
After a few minutes, he stops murmuring, and I stand to leave. I don’t think he even realizes that I’m here at night. I usually just come in long enough to help him back to a gentle slumber.
Tonight, his peace fades before I’m even at the door.
I can’t leave him like this. Not when he’s hurting, so I climb into bed next to him and wrap my arms around his body.
I can’t fix this for him. I can’t change his past, and I can’t stop the nightmares.
But I can keep him from being alone in them.
“You’re the strongest guy I know,” I whisper to him before I start humming an old song that my mom used to sing to me. He settles again, his head resting over my heart as I run my fingers through his hair.
I only mean to stay for a few more minutes, but I must drift to sleep instead because when I wake up again, it’s morning and the sunlight is streaming in. Somehow, I manage to sneak out of his room and into the shower without him rousing.
I try not to think about what’s going to happen to him when the year is over. Will he be alone in those nightmares again? Will he still get out of bed and pretend to be cheerful over morning tea with someone else?
I push the painful thoughts away. I’ve only known him for two weeks. I can’t possibly care this much about him. Just like he doesn’t care that much about me. We’re just two people who are living together. That’s all this is.
“How close are we?” I ask Cord as he navigates his aging truck onto a tree-lined road with an abundance of potholes.
He points to a sign that reads, “Welcome to Courage County”.
“Wow,” I murmur, already feeling like I’m a million miles away from the bustling city that is Asheville. “This is pretty.”
“It’s only going to get better from here,” he answers as we continue down the road.
He points out various places as he drives.
“That’s Sew Cute, a clothing shop. There’s Ernie’s Diner, voted best burgers in the state for years on end.
Then we have Seize the Clay, Bloom Anywhere, and One More Chapter. ”
I take in the craft store, flower shop, and bookstore that he’s pointed out. This whole street looks like something you’d see on a postcard. It’s beautiful in the bright sunlight, and I can only imagine what it would look like to walk down the street holding hands with Cord in the early evening.
“You have a donut shop?” I shriek when I see the sign for Sprinkles. “I want to try that one out.”
“Sadie’s donuts are legendary,” Cord tells me. “Unlike other bakeries that buy pre-made filling, Sadie makes all of her own fresh. It’s why her donuts are so delicious.”
There’s a cute little suburb in the heart of town, complete with small homes with white picket fences in the front.
Young kids play on the lawns while the older kids race up and down the sidewalks on scooters and bicycles.
Grandparents sit on front porches sipping sweet tea while harried looking parents call out greetings to each other in between fussing at the children to slow down and watch for the non-existent traffic.
Tears prick my eyes at the unexpected longing that fills my heart. Could that be me one day? Could I be sitting on the front porch holding hands with him and watching our kids raise kids of their own?
“You live in paradise,” I tell Cord when I can speak around the lump in my throat.
“It only gets better from here,” he reassures me as he turns down another road. The longer we drive, the further we get from town. Now, big barns, livestock and country homes dot the landscape. They’re far apart, sometimes miles between them.
Finally, he turns down a road with a sign declaring the place is Valor Ranch. I spot the horses grazing in the pasture and let out a happy sigh. “This place is magical.”
He grins. “Yeah, it is.”
As he drives down the dirt road, he points out various buildings. “That’s the silo. It’s not really in use right now, but it kind of came with the place. Over there is the barn and beyond that, you see the big house. That’s where Bronco lives with Lauren.”
“She’s the one behind the Cuddle a Cowboy event,” I say, remembering her name from the emails we exchanged.
“Yeah, she sweet-talked Bronco into letting her put any willing cowboy up for auction. The money earned went to save Lauren’s favorite place, the Wildflower Retirement Community.”
“I remember that. I read about it in the article,” I tell him. “It’s how I found you.”
“And I’m glad you did,” he says, his words a soft rumble.
“I’m glad too,” I admit. I know this marriage isn’t the real thing, and Cord is just a really good guy. But I feel like he gets me in a way that no one else does.
The moment he stops the truck, I’m scrambling out.
I take a deep breath of country air, feeling my whole body relax.
There’s no sound of traffic here, no hum of thousands of electronics, and no pressure or deadlines.
There’s just peace. For the first time in years, it feels like my soul is breathing.
“Come on. I’ll show you to my cabin, and you can get changed,” he tells me as he grabs my bags from the trunk.
I glance down at my sundress and heels. I felt so cute when I put these on this morning. I definitely enjoyed the appreciative hunger in his gaze today when he told me I looked pretty. He’s been limited to three compliments a day, and he never fails to use them all.
“Something you don’t mind getting dirty in,” he clarifies and raises his eyebrows, that teasing look becoming more familiar to me now.
I grin as I follow him to his cabin. It’s big and beautiful, just like he is.
But it’s also masculine and sterile with only a few pieces of furniture scattered throughout the entire place.
But my favorite thing about it is the way it smells like him.
It’s a spicy mix of leather, vanilla and earth that I’ve come to associate with my husband.
Molly and Milo like it too if the way they sniff everything is any indication. I don’t miss the dog beds that are tucked away in the corner of the living room or the bag of dog food in the kitchen. I love that he’s always thinking of them.
After the tour is finished, Cord puts his hands in his pockets and explains, “I don’t need much.”
“With a view like this, I’d have to agree,” I tell him, watching the way the tension leaves his shoulders. “Not to mention these exposed beams.” I point to the ceiling, and his chest puffs out a little then.
“Built the place myself.” He’s preening now, reminding me of those nature documentaries where the male of the species tries to attract a mate.
“The craftsmanship is excellent,” I tell him, even though I have no idea what good craftsmanship looks like.
He runs his hand along one of the doors. “My parents were alcoholics. They were always getting evicted from one place or another. But this place is mine. It’s the one place no one can make me leave.”
My heart twists at his words. I lost my mum when I was young, but it’s different.
My childhood wasn’t filled with the same level of instability as his. I never had to worry about where I was going to put my head at night or guess if the electricity would be on when I came home after a day of school.
I always knew that my father loved me. He kept food on the table and provided all of the emotional support that I could need. But I know that Cord doesn’t want me feeling sorry for him. “Your cabin is stunning.”
He nods toward the bedroom. “Get changed. We’ll start your tour.”
Once I’m dressed, we settle Molly and Milo in a spare bedroom with an activity gate.
He gives them each a specialty made rawhide bone before he takes me around the ranch.
He teaches me how to feed the chickens, how to brush the horses, and even how to muck out a stall.
I definitely don’t care for that last chore.
“What’s your favorite part of being on the farm?” I ask him once we put in half a day’s work. It’s nearly dinner time and I’m not ready to stop. No wonder he loves working outdoors. It’s so energizing to be in the fresh air with the sunshine on my back, and the birds singing in the trees above me.
“The best part is working with the machinery. I restore the tractors on the place.”
I want to know everything about Cord and what he does. “Can I see?”
He leads me to the workshop and shows me a beautiful tractor. He runs his hand along the gleaming machine. “I just finished this one last week. Haven’t even given it a test drive yet. Do you want to do that with me?”
I nod, and he climbs onto the tractor then helps me up.
I settle in his lap, feeling his hardness underneath my body.
I put my lips together to keep from moaning out loud.
It’s been a week since he’s been inside me, and I’m tempted to start grinding on him right here.
But I’m the one who insisted on the guidelines, and it’s not fair to tease him.
He talks me through the controls and how they work, his voice rough and gritty. I recognize that raw, masculine need in his tone from our honeymoon.
We spend the next thirty minutes cruising around the farm on the tractor. The wind in my hair is making me laugh. Cord’s arms are around me holding me tight, and it’s the most fun I’ve had in ages.
When I shut off the tractor behind the barn, I turn to Cord. “That was amazing. No wonder you love working on these machines.”
His gaze is on my lips. My hands go to his shoulders, and I lean in. It’s the only sound he needs because then he’s kissing me. A hungry, devouring kiss because we’ve denied ourselves for a week, and now there’s only primal need. His tongue strokes along mine, sending shivers down my spine.
But it’s his groan that shakes me out of my stupor and pulls me back to reality.
I call his name softly. “We had rules, and they included foreplay.”
“We’re not breaking the rules. This is just kissing.”
“But it can’t lead anywhere,” I tell him, frustrated that he’s not seeing that. The only thing that making out without going all the way will do is annoy both of us.
“I’m okay with that.”
“Why?”
“I want our marriage to last forever. And there will be times when, for one reason or another, we don’t have sex. Maybe illness or childbirth or any number of things, but what I hope is underneath all of that, the foundation of our relationship, is two friends that really enjoy kissing each other.”
Tears prick my eyes unexpectedly. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or believe in the future you’re painting. It’s just that at some point, I stopped trusting me.”
His fingers trace up and down my spine, soothing me and arousing me, sending sparks throughout my body. “Take your time. I’m going to be right here.”
I frown as I sniff the air. “What’s burning?”