Chapter 21
I’M A COCOA-MAKING MONSTER
“They really put me through it,” I tell my mom, recounting the impromptu visit from the Montgomerys today, Landry tucked in at my side.
We’re downstairs on the couch this time, and Sadie’s upstairs asleep.
I got her down an hour ago, and we’ve been chatting with my mom ever since. “But I handled it well.”
Landry drapes his hand over my thigh. “She was incredible. Wasn’t rattled whatsoever.”
Mom smiles, her chin stacked on her fist, sitting at the kitchen counter back home.
I miss Mom, but I don’t miss home much yet, and I know that’s a troubling sign.
Not troubling now, but in a few weeks when it’s time to end this, it’s gonna hurt like hell.
“So they believed that you two are an item?”
I nod. “Oh yeah. I mean, Marnie brought it up,” I explain, sticking out my pinkie while doing my uppity impersonation of the old white-haired cunt in the black suit. “But by the end of the afternoon, I think she realized their suit isn’t gonna last a millisecond if we go to court.”
Landry nudges me, and I glance up and spot him on the phone screen, focused on my profile, staring at me.
One of my favorite things when editing footage in the evening is coming across portions of film where he’s watching me.
But tonight, catching him on the phone screen staring adoringly at me, it doesn’t do anything to the desire that’s been building between my thighs.
The sea of need I’m trying desperately to ignore.
Seeing the gratitude so plainly written all over his face when the Montgomerys left earlier put me in need of him.
Badly. Now talking to my mom, that need is only rising.
But it’s also been a long, exhausting day, and I’m not sure I have it in me to even edit footage, much less be a sexual conqueror.
Twisting to face him, excitement flutters through my core when our eyes meet.
“Thank you,” he says appreciatively, as if he hasn’t already told me.
He has, but doesn’t need to, because I feel his appreciation in every kindness he extends to me—charging my camera batteries, making me my first cup of coffee in the morning, checking in on me emotionally after a hard day of training where he can see fear written all over my face.
He’s present for me emotionally always, and whoever gets to wear his ring for real in the future is a very lucky woman.
“You’re welcome,” I reply, and force myself to look back at the screen, where my mom is watching the whole interaction.
I don’t want her to notice that I’m in love with him—I don’t want anyone to know.
It’ll be much easier that way. “And the footage is coming along wonderfully. I do have a checkpoint call with the team tomorrow,” I tell her, rolling my eyes.
“I sent them ten minutes last week, so I’m going to get feedback on the direction I’m taking and go over some stuff, but man, I think this is the best film I’ve ever made. ”
Landry takes his hat off, revealing a swathe of dirty hair, dark from sweat. He apologizes to my mother for the state of his appearance, then adds, “I’d like to sit in on your meeting tomorrow, if I can. If that’s okay.”
My lips twitch, and my chin wobbles a little too. But I force a smile and nod my head. “Okay.”
I know what he’s up to. He wants to be there to support me.
He wants to make sure I’m okay. I look up at the screen and find my mom sitting back, a soft smile resting on her lips.
“Well, I should get going,” she says, reaching for my sister off camera, dragging her in-frame for a moment. “Say good night, Lane.”
“Night, partner,” Lane deadpans, then disappears back off camera, her AirPods tucked into her ears.
Landry smiles at my mom. “It was nice seeing and speaking with you again, Ms. Farley.”
“You too, Landry.” She looks at me. “Love you, honey. Good job today.”
“Love you too,” I tell her, and then she ends the call, leaving my phone screen black.
Landry slips his arm beneath my legs and tugs me into his lap. Without hesitation, I loop my arms around his neck and drag his mouth to mine, enjoying the soft moan that flanks me when our kiss breaks. “You were incredible today.”
I trace the sharp curve of his jaw with the tips of my fingers, my lower half buzzing from the steely stubble.
“I know I earned every right to march that fine ass upstairs and have my way with you,” I tell him, the words fanned out through a yawn.
“But I have to tell you, I’m damn exhausted from this afternoon. ”
An idea hits him, judging by the way he sits up a little, and his eyes widen.
God, he’s hot. Unfairly so. “Hey.” His lips find mine again, and our eyes close as my tongue explores his mouth.
My hands skate beneath his shirt, and my spine heats from the intimate but casual way I get to touch him, like it’s okay because we’re together and this hardworking body of his is a personal gift, my playground, my wifely reward.
“Hmm?” I quietly ask, breaking the kiss to blink up at him, the urge to see his bright eyes and scruffy jaw so intense I could scream. I bring my hands to his face, mindlessly playing with his hair before one hand breaks free to trace the ink on his arm.
“What do you say to a late-night ride? I’ll shower so you don’t have to be pressed up against me smelling like a boot and a nut sack, and I’ll get a quilt around you so the skeeters don’t eat you up, and we’ll take a ride on Daisy.
Explore the property and see some stars.
” I want to use his body until either of us can walk or speak, but tonight that’s not what neither of us really need. Not as much as we need this.
He knows it, and so do I.
My eyes flit between his, and I wonder if he’s weighing if this is a romantic, wonderful thing to do, or a huge mistake. I’ll never know, though, because he nods. “What do you say, cowgirl?”
“Sounds amazing, Landry.” I slip off his lap, envisioning being cradled by the strength of his chest, while taking in a full moon and sea of stars. “You shower, and I’ll make us some spiked cocoa.”
“It’s still seventy degrees outside, darlin’, but whatever you make, I’ll gladly consume.
” He slips upstairs, and I stand at the bottom of the stairwell, listening until I hear his door shut and the shower turn on.
I grab my phone, ready to stash it away until tomorrow, when I see a text from my mom.
Mom
When were you going to tell me that you fell in love?
My heart roars to a halt and I choke on a breath, reading then rereading her message. After exiting the text message app, I place my phone on the counter face down and pull the pot out for the cocoa.
I am in love with him, I can’t deny that. But I didn’t come here for that, and the last film I made, I let love and relationships cloud my creative vision. I can put my feelings aside, help this amazing man and his wonderful daughter, and move on.
I can do it and it will be okay.
With that thought, I open the cupboards, ready to make some spiked cocoa and forget about the complications of everything for now. There’s cocoa and sugar, but not all that much else.
Landry’s cupboards have been a lot thinner recently, emptier than they were when I first got here, and that large pile of bills he tossed onto the floor that first day I got here has only gotten bigger. What was a foothill of debt is now a large mountain.
I see the wear that the Montgomerys pointed out.
I hear the way the faucet sings a sad tale for a second or two before water comes out.
I notice the many patches in the fencing along the property, the same way the coop is patched to all hell, and the back screen door too.
I notice that they don’t use their air conditioning, and I also notice that there are a lot of mornings where Landry plates up breakfast for me and Sadie, but not himself.
Stirring the cocoa powder and vanilla together, I pull out two worn mugs, the porcelain chipped on both. They’re matching, and when I peer into the cupboard I notice the rest match, too. It’s a set. Likely a gift for their wedding.
Landry Vaughn fell in love, got married, had a baby, and lost his wife. I stir the pot and think about that.
I tried my hardest today to be as wifely as I could when it came to putting on a show for the Montgomerys. The truth is, I didn’t have to try at all. My instincts to defend and protect roared to life in their presence, and doing what was best for Sadie and Landry came easily to me.
I may only be twenty-four years old but I know what that means.
Stirring the mix as I bring it to a boil, my mind drifts back to Marnie and her diabolical comment reminding me that I’m not Sadie’s mom.
What a complete bitch. But she’s not wrong.
I’m not Sadie’s mom. The woman who passed down her DNA and stole the heart of her daddy is gone, and not only am I not Sadie’s mom but I’m merely a season in her life.
Someone who is undoubtedly leaving the picture.
It’s planned. It’s set. Landry and I both agreed.
What business do I have sneaking into Landry’s room and getting us sucked deeper into this enflamed, red, bright, burning like the sun attraction that has seemingly begun to slowly consume us both?
It’s selfish. Marnie Montgomery in her Chanel suit on a one-hundred-degree day is of sound mind. I have no business doing what I’m doing, because I’m going to hurt Sadie. I love her, and she loves me, and because of that, I will hurt her.
After I turn off the stove, I pour the hot mix into the two mugs and unscrew the lid on the whiskey.
There isn’t much left, and I drain the rest, splitting it between the two drinks.
I used to say I’d never have cocoa without marshmallows, but Landry doesn’t have extra things.
He has the essentials, and I know now I could live a life of just essentials.
I don’t need marshmallows.
“Hey,” he says, coming down from the bottom step with wet hair, a fresh white T-shirt clinging to his muscles. I love how I can see his nipples, stiff, and the gentle waves of his chest hair straining against the fabric. “You ready?”
I pop two cubes from the plastic trays in the freezer, and put ice on top of the cocoa. “So we don’t burn our tongues off.”
He shakes his head, stroking his large hand down his jaw. “Hm, no, I don’t want anything to happen to my tongue.” My belly flutters, and the back of my neck grows hot. “I haven’t got to introduce you to it just yet.”
My cheeks flame as I slap his chest. “Landry!”
His arms pin me against the counter, where he braces his hands. He drags his lips up my throat, pausing to press a kiss to my pulse. “You smell good.” He rewards me with his most gravelly tone and words of praise, and I grow sticky and hot beneath my thin cotton panties.
“You’re the one who just showered,” I say, walking my fingers up his chest, cupping his throat and jaw. I pull him down into a kiss and explore his mintiness, the hot slide of his tongue along mine, relishing the moan he leaves in my mouth when we part.
“C’mon, let’s have a nice ride together,” he says, grabbing the mugs for us.
I’m not much help in the next five minutes, watching him saddle Daisy and talk to her, stroke his big fingers through her mane, and promise her things tomorrow if she’ll be good to us tonight.
I love watching him with his animals, a tender side of him I’ve explored on film, but without my camera, it means so much more.
He lifts me up and helps me on, and I trust his every word, movement, and piece of advice. I know I'm in the arms of a capable man, a strong man with a good heart, and when he comes to join me on Daisy, my body relaxes in a way it never has.
He tucks the light quilt in around me, and kisses the side of my neck, then the back of my ear.
His unkempt jaw sends hot shivers down my spine, and I know if he took me somewhere and stripped me down this minute, I’d be his forever.
High in the sky, the moon hangs, casting gentle traces of gold along everything it touches.
He nestles into me from behind, and I let my head rest easily against his chest. “Ready, baby?”
I close my eyes and savor the rasp in his tone, the velvet in his words, the way his strong body feels against mine. “Yes.”
He brings his mouth to my ear, telling me about things we pass as we pass them, the place where the old barn was before it burned, the place his favorite stag broke its leg, where he and Sadie were when she saw the Big Dipper for the first time.
The rumble of his voice vibrating through my back is a comforting lull, and being in his arms under the warm night sky is everything.
The day catches up with me, and the comfort of the ride eases me into a sleep.
When I wake, I’m in his arms, his soft lips shushing me as he carries me up the stairs and lays me down in my bed.
He kisses my forehead and pulls off my boots, and my heart hammers, and tears sting the backs of my closed eyes.
I can’t face him right now, so I keep my eyes closed as he covers me with a blanket, then plugs my camera batteries in, and leaves.
And if I wasn’t sure before, on that ride I become very certain. I don’t want to leave Sable Sky.
I don’t want to leave Sadie.
And I’m absolutely in love with Landry Vaughn.