Chapter 14
AURORA
Early mornings were very quiet at Wildwood.
Not silent, just replete with a middle-of-nowhere sort of stillness that not even the finest of lo-fi music in nice noise-canceling headphones could replicate. My room had a little balcony, furnished with a seating area where I’d spent my first waking hours every day since we arrived. This was day four of letting the sun unthaw any morning grumpies while I sipped my coffee and people-watched.
Well… kinda.
Ranch hands pulling horses into a paddock near the house, somebody in the distance mowing, cows grazing a nearby field, a line of birds conducting spring travel.
Lots to see, not just people.
And still… it was quiet.
I hadn’t realized how much I needed it until I was immersed in it, letting someone else worry about work, not preparing my own meals, not wondering if the man I was sleeping with was sleeping with someone else.
Like… right in the moment.
I knew exactly where he was.
Status, or lack thereof, between us aside, even that was more security than I’d had with a whole ring on my finger, so I was just… appreciating it for what it was.
Until my phone started buzzing.
It was in my room, on the bedside table, and I briefly considered ignoring it. It could be somebody calling about BabyBee, but there was very little I could do from here, and even if I could… it was too damn early in the morning for problems.
Not that thinking about it in that manner would make it go away if there was a problem.
With a deep sigh, I pulled myself from my seat to step back inside for the phone.
Immediately, I was glad I did.
I checked my face in the mirror to make sure it was free from crusties, not that it really mattered, before I hit the answer button on the video call. The screen said it was my brother-in-law calling, but the exact person I expected to see when the call connected was right there.
“Now Mini Mouse, what in the world are you doing this early in the morning?” I asked, unable to help beaming back at her sweet, beautiful face.
It used to hurt looking at her, because she looked so much like Nova. And it did still sting to get to watch her growing up, while her mother never got the privilege.
Now, I mostly leaned into the beauty of it, of getting to see my sister’s face even though she was no longer earthside.
It wasn’t painful anymore.
It was a gift.
“Daddy promised that if I didn’t call last night, I could call first thing in the morning. So here I am,” she proudly declared with a little flourish, making me laugh.
“Yes, indeed, you are. Are you doing okay? Don’t you have school this morning?”
Her little puffs bounced on either side of her face as her head bobbed in answer. “Yeah. Daddy and Miss Amanda are cooking breakfast before they take me.”
“Oh that sounds sweet.” I nodded.
Daddy and Ms. Amanda had been getting quite close, for quite some time at this point, and I was just waiting on my brother-in-law to decide it was the right moment for some sort of official meet and greet.
Not that he had to.
Amina was approaching six years old, and Nova had been gone for most of that time. Amina only knew her in the abstract, through pictures, videos, and our stories of her.
It was okay for him to move on.
In fact, I was glad for him.
He’d loved my sister to the bone, put everything he had and then some into trying to save her, and had grieved just as hard as the rest of us, while fathering a newborn who looked just like the woman he’d lost.
He deserved to find love again.
I just… wished it wasn’t awkward. There was no sort of obligation beyond that of being Amina’s aunt that I might be able to claim to lobby for meeting this woman he had around her so much. And it was a shaky claim, at best.
So of course, I wouldn’t.
Largely since, by all accounts I’d been offered, Amanda was a perfectly nice woman; a librarian he’d met taking Amina to weekend literacy events. It was quite wholesome, actually, and Amina loved Amanda. And it didn’t seem as if she was trying to step into any sort of weird mom-like role.
So there was nothing to do except… be cool.
“Hey, if Daddy and Miss Amanda are cooking breakfast, tell me something Miss Mamas, uhh… what do they think you are doing right now? Because I can tell from what I see behind you that you’re not in the kitchen.”
A goofy grin spread over her face, an immediate sign that she’d been figured out. And as if I had talked it up, I suddenly heard Dennis’s voice in the background, calling for her.
Her eyes went wide.
“Yeah, you’re definitely caught. Just turn yourself in,” I urged, laughing as she turned around.
“Daddy, wait, I didn’t ask yet!” she pleaded as I watched him approaching in the background. Seconds later, his face was peering at the screen, smiling when he saw me there.
“Rori, hey,” he greeted. “My bad for the early call. Mini Mouse has been dying to talk to you. I tried to tell her you were on a much-needed vacation, but she wasn’t hearing it.”
“I appreciate the attempt.” I laughed. “She told me you talked her down from calling last night.”
He frowned. “Last night?” He gave Mini a side-eye. “It was one o’clock this morning, and I have no idea what this girl was doing up. I just woke up to her shaking me, whispering about cows.”
“Daddy, I told you! I had a dream I needed to talk to Titi Rori about. A question about the cows.”
It was my turn to frown. “Okay what’s up with the cows? What cows?”
Amina looked at the screen with her face twisted up. “Aren’t you on a farm?”
“A ranch, baby,” Dennis corrected, and she screwed her face up even more.
“You said that was like a farm!”
“It is a lot like a farm,” I told her, laughing at how disgusted she was with us. “But sweetie, I don’t know much about the cows. You probably know more than I do. There are definitely cows here though. All different kinds, and then all together, they call them cattle.”
“You said you didn’t know anything about them!” Mini accused, sounding quite exasperated, and me and her dad both hit her with a raised eyebrow.
“Watch the tone,” Dennis gently scolded. “Go ahead and ask Auntie Rori your question.”
“Oh yeah!” she said, instantly brightening. The smile was back on her face in full effect as she turned back to the screen…and then tilted her head, confused. “I think I forgot. Are the pancakes ready?” she asked, and then without waiting for the answer she skipped away, leaving Dennis and I dumbfounded.
“I… did she really just do that?” I laughed, and he shook his head.
“She absolutely did. When she remembers in the car, one of us will write it down or something.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Uh… speaking of plans,” he said, glancing behind him to make sure Mini hadn’t snuck back into the room. “How are you? Like… for real?”
I smiled. “I’m okay. Really,” I insisted when he gave me a skeptical look. “It’s been a stressful few months, but… you know how we do. Keep pushing.”
“Fair enough. This time away doing you some good?”
“Yes, actually. It’s beautiful out here, and I’ve only stepped in shit once.”
“Don’t jinx it,” he laughed. “But uh… the reason I asked was to kinda… check your temperature for when you get back in town. I want to get everybody together so that I can introduce you to Amanda.”
My eyes went wide. “Oh.”
“Is that weird?”
“No!” I quickly answered. “No, not at all. I’d hoped you’d have us meet her, given how important it seems she’s become?”
The smile on his face told it all, even though he quickly tempered it as he nodded.
“Yeah, she’s definitely important to me. And she adores Mini. It’s… serious, between us. Enough that it feels like time for the village to congregate.”
“Then we will make that happen. I’m happy for you,” I told him, and his expression immediately after made me glad I had, instead of just keeping it to myself.
“That means a lot, Rori. Thank you.”
With perfect timing to keep things from getting awkward, Amina came bouncing back into the room, her mouth full of pancakes, to remind her dad that she had to be at school soon. We talked a few more minutes after that, with Amina making me promise to gather more information so that when she came back to me with any bovine-related questions I’d be able to answer them.
Once I was off the call, I headed to the bathroom to do my morning hygiene, with my phone still in hand.
Initially, I was just checking debug notes for the app and peeking at any potentially urgent emails. That only took a couple minutes, though, and then unfortunately, I couldn’t help the draw of social media.
I found myself looking at my notifications.
Why do people always want to tag you in bullshit?
I didn’t even care that much about folks saying whatever they wanted to say about me or about the app.
If they hated it, fine.
Talk about it to whoever the hell they felt like talking about it to, except me directly.
But nope.
That was not a particular courtesy I was given at all.
My notifications were perfectly chaotic, especially rife with a weirdly growing sentiment that I was somehow trying to sabotage Yams’ pregnancy because I was trying to get back at Monty.
Or back with Monty.
Or back at and with Monty.
They actually couldn’t make up their minds.
Damn weirdos.
Instead of letting myself linger there, I put the phone down and went about finishing up, just in time for a knock at the door.
Tatum.
I opened the door with a big smile and got swept into a big-ass hug in return, something that was quickly becoming a favored morning ritual. Which could quickly become problematic since, you know… we were just vibing.
“What’s up?” he said when he finally pulled back to look at my face. “You ready to get dirty today?”
Immediately, my eyebrow went up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He laughed. “Today is the day. Get you some of this good old organic mud.”
Nose wrinkled, I asked, “Did I imply I was having any part of that?”
“You didn’t, but a man can dream, right?” He laughed. “You can at least come out. You have to. That’s where everybody’s gonna be anyway.”
“But I don’t have to get in the mud, right?”
“Just your feet,” he bargained.
“Um, I actually don’t have boots I want getting dirty like that,” I attempted, only halfway hoping that would actually work.
“That ain’t no problem. We got boots.”
“But what if they don’t fit?”
“There’s a whole shop. I am positive we have your size.”
“Ugh,” I groaned, going limp in his arms as he laughed.
“I know you’re Miss Prissy, not a country girl like that. But I’m saying… just give it a chance. We’re gonna have a good time.”
“I mean, of course you think so,” I countered, frowning. “This is like your birthright.”
“Give it a chance,” he repeated, squeezing my shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go get some breakfast, go get you some boots, and we can go check out the setup.”
So, admittedly, I really didn’t know what he meant when he said we were gonna go check out the setup.
Actually, I wasn’t sure what I thought most of his commentary around mud bogging meant, but it certainly wasn’t a setup of tents, food trucks, picnic tables, a stage...
A natural dance floor.
Fairy lights that would illuminate it all once the sun went down.
Balloons.
It was actually quite beautiful.
All of this happened on the far side of the property, well away from the house and the working ranch, which I’d wondered about the utility of when I didn’t know the prominence of this event. I understood now how vital the space and distance were.
The parking lot was already filling with people, and not just regular everyday passenger vehicles either. There were pickup trucks as far as the eye could see, but then also campers, converted school buses—full length and mini—lots of the big RVs, and, of course, ATVs.
So, so many ATVs.
People were already on them, riding nearby hills that seemed tailored for that purpose. All over the place, there were signs posted about safety, there were water stations, first aid tents, and a bunch of security guards.
This was not a cute little small town thing like how Tatum made it sound.
Or maybe I was just too unfamiliar with the culture.
Based on a big entrance sign anchoring the only paved road to access the parking lot, it was called Wheels over Wildland. There was a big security booth there, with a couple lanes managing the ticketed access and presumably giving out wristbands.
“This is crazy,” I told Tatum, in awe from my place anchored at his back on his ATV, which was custom-painted in Kings blue and gold. We were up on the big hill looking down at everything unfolding, and I realized this was why he hadn’t brought me over here before.
He wanted the magnitude to surprise me.
Tatum half-turned to me with a grin. “You ain’t even really seen nothing yet.”
I didn’t understand how right he was about that until hours later.
Initially, I wished I had called up a friend to tag along. Sierra, Shannon, Hollis, somebody.
There was a special area for VIP guests, but it was tucked away from the action, and I didn’t really know anyone there. I’d gotten along incredibly well with Tatum’s family over the few days I’d been with him at Wildwood, after that first morning awkwardness at breakfast. I’d met his father, his brothers, and lots of cousins who worked the ranch.
His mother had been going out of her way to check in with me several times a day, and his sister—who he’d had me calling freakin’ Tammy-Rae until she finally, barely getting the words out from laughing, admitted her actual name was Tamira—was good ass company.
I just… barely knew her, and didn’t want to attach myself to her hip like I couldn’t be without an escort.
But when Tatum went off to get dirty riding his ATV through the mud like a lunatic with the rest of the attendees, Tam and her bestie Geneva immediately scooped me up. They stuck a drink in my hand, looped an arm through my free one, and led me straight to a little roped off area at the front of one of the crowds.
“What’s this about?” I asked, taking a swig from the familiar beer bottle they’d handed me. I was very well-versed with Night Shift brews.
We were clearly at the end of a mud course, positioned so we could see the last leg of it and cheer the riders on as they got their official times from the judge’s tent, which we were near.
“Won’t we miss seeing most of the obstacle course?” I asked, and Tam and Geneva shared a grin.
“Trust me, I’m bringing you in on the real show around here,” Tam said, gesturing around us.
This was when I noticed that where she’d pulled me to, the crowd was majority women. There were some guys sprinkled in too, but as she pointed my gaze back to the end of the trail, it became clear to me.
We were here for the very same show, and it wasn’t about the course at all.
Some people wanted to watch the big tires go through the mud.
Some cared about the build on the ATV engines, the torque, the horsepower, all of that.
And then there was us girls and gays, waiting at the end for folks to get done with their strenuous task of making it through the mud course.
Inevitably muddy and dirty.
And stripping those clothes off to rinse off at the shower sprayer set up at the end.
“Oh,” I said, turning to Tam with a grin as one particularly blessed child of God peeled his way out of his mud-soaked shirt, treating us to an incredible view of his biceps and abs. “Now I understand.”
“Yes,” she laughed. “Now you do.”
Very briefly, I wondered about the guys feeling uncomfortable with, or objectified by all the whooping and hollering, the overtly sexual comments being yelled at them, but it became quite clear that this was a favored part of the performance.
They played right into it, peeling off their clothes extra slow, flexing muscles, teasing nipples, just having a shit ton of fun. And security was immediately on the ass of anybody who took it too far.
The variety of body types was refreshing, too. Everybody got largely the same love, not just abs. There were fat, thin, short, tall, everything in-between. Even with all my clothes on and my still pristine boots, I was having a good ass time, whistling and yelling right along with everybody else.
My mood changed, however, when the next person up was Tatum.
The crowd got real loud.
Too loud.
“Damn,” I muttered, looking at Tam and Geneva. “What the hell is this? Can these bitches calm down?”
Their eyes went wide.
“Whoa,” Tam laughed, taking the fresh beer I’d just cracked open out of my hand. “How much have you had to drink?” she asked, glancing down at our cooler, where we’d been stashing our empty bottles to get disposed of later. “I’ve only had three. Geneva?”
“This is my third.” Geneva shrugged. “How many empties are th—bitch, there’s like twelve bottles!”
“What?!” I asked when their gaze came back to me. “Beer doesn’t get you drunk!”
“Girl! Maybe when you only have two or three, but that’s like six!”
“It’s hot, I was thirsty!”
“So drink some water!” Tam laughed, grabbing a bottle to stick in my hand. “You’re cut off.”
“Huh?!”
“If you can huh, you can hear. Your drunk ass is about to miss the show,” Geneva told me, pointing as Tatum came blazing up the final stretch of the obstacle course.
Damn he looked good.
Cut off shirt with his arms out, covered in dirt, pure joy on his face.
“Oh, that big motherfucker could toss me around in the mud anytime,” I heard from somewhere behind me. My head immediately snapped back, neck craning to see who said that shit.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Geneva rushed out, grabbing my shoulders. “You need to gon’ and turn your head right back around.”
“No, because I’ll fuck somebody up,” I said, loud as hell.
Tam groaned. “Tatum is going to be so fucking mad at me.”
“What? What did I do?”
Tam just shook her head. “Nothing, baby. There’s your man,” she said, and I had zero urge to correct her as I turned back around to look for Tatum.
Lord, there he was, in all his offensive-lineman-sized glory, peeling off his shirt.
Solid and fine.
And clearly a crowd favorite.
“Okay, you thirsty bitches can relax a little, damn, have some respect!” I yelled, and Tatum actually heard me, approaching the barrier laughing.
“What y’all done did to her?” he asked across the rope barrier, grabbing my wrist and pulling me closer.
“We overserved her a tiny bit. Sorry, Tater,” Geneva said.
“I’m grown,” I countered, still too loud, and Tatum laughed.
“Overserved her with what? These lil beers?” He gave me a look that was simultaneously impressed and confused. “How many did you drink?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. He just laughed again, pulling me fully against him with no regard for the crisp white top, jeans, and cognac-toned cowgirl boots that completed my look.
I didn’t care either, actually.
He felt good, and the envy radiating off the women around me was delicious, especially when he positioned his mouth over mine, giving me a deep, nasty-ass kiss that was much more appropriate for behind closed doors.
Actually, from the amused look on his face when he pulled back… I might have been the one to give him the nasty-ass kiss.
But, whatever.
Semantics.
“Please keep her out of trouble,” Tatum asked Tam and Geneva, who laughingly promised to do exactly that.
And they did.
They practically force-fed me water to sober me up, which meant a bunch of trips to the bathroom line, which was sobering in and of itself.
Between pee breaks, though, we line-danced, watched some trick riders, and Geneva and I watched while Tam rode a mechanical bull like she had Olympic-level stripper training.
It was the most impressive thing I’d ever seen, and she climbed off with a smile like she hadn’t just accomplished a feat that had the audience envious and desirous at the same damn time.
“I am pretty sure I’d need a chiropractor if I attempted even a twentieth of what you just did on that damn bull,” I told her, bringing her a freshly cracked bottle of water. She accepted it, taking a long swig before she shook her head and smiled.
“Girl, there was a nigga in the audience I want real bad. Had to put on a little show,” she told me with a wink.
“And he was surely watching you hard as shit,” Geneva laughed. “I peeped him out.”
“He already has your number?” I asked.
She laughed. “He does. He does.”
“Girl, go ahead and start stretching then. ’Cause he’ll surely be calling you.”
It was that time of night, where everything was starting to feel a little romantic. Between the fairy lights all over the place, the shift in the music, and the switch from beers in the cooler to drinks at the bar tents, it was club closing vibes all around.
There was a space for camping out, which it seemed like a large amount of people were doing, and then also an area I’d thought was some type of photo op but turned out to be a little single room cabin setups inside of oversized bourbon barrels.
My mind was fully changed about a “mudding” event now.
This was very much a good time.
I didn’t get to find out if Tam got her man for the night, because Tatum came and snatched me up. He found us a semi-quiet spot and put a drink in my hand, meeting my gaze with a stern look.
“This your only one, since I see you like to get rowdy. What happened to getting sad drunk?”
I shrugged, laughing. “I don’t know. I didn’t even think beer could get you drunk.”
“Nah baby, beer drunk is the preference in many country ass households across the nation.”
“And I absolutely learned today,” I told him.
“What else did you learn today?”
“Uh, exactly how highly sought-after you are, for one. I got some very dirty looks down there at the trail. Some of them folks thought they might have a chance to take you home tonight.”
He grinned. “Well… I might have a reputation for being available to be taken home at the end of the night at these things.”
“Slut.”
“Oh for sure,” he laughed. “Had to disappoint the fans this year though.”
“Damn right.”
He smirked. “Oh, you just... you think I’m easy, huh?”
“Oh, I’m absolutely getting in your drawers tonight.”
“We can do that shit right now. Come on.”
I was laughing, but Tatum was dead serious.
We danced to a couple songs.
Laughed with a couple cousins.
But it wasn’t very long before we were on the move, trekking to where his ATV had been mostly cleaned up from his trail run. He made sure I was nice and secure behind him, and then we took off, back to the house.
There really wasn’t much talking.
Not much to discuss, and not in a bad way.
After being in the sun all day, drinking, dancing, talking, laughing, we were both just tired. But both very much on board with what we were trying to get into next.
Instead of dropping me off at my room, we both went to his.
Straight to the bathroom where we stripped down, and then got into the shower together.
First was a real wash to get off all the mud and sweat and grime from the day.
Then, once it was just clean, wet skin, Tatum pulled me into him, his hardness pressing into my stomach as he dropped his head down to kiss me.
He was the one with the nasty ass kiss this time, devouring my mouth as he groped my ass. He tasted like beer and bourbon, and I was pretty sure I did too, but it really didn’t even matter.
I was just enjoying being kissed, being groped, being grabbed by the thighs and hefted up against the shower wall, being plunged into as I hooked my legs around his hips.
Getting lazily fucked against the smooth textured shower wall with Tatum’s tongue in my mouth, on my neck, his teeth against my skin, lips on mine.
And then, harder.
Faster.
Powerful strokes that sent me sliding up and down the wall with each one, holding onto his slick, wet shoulders for dear life.
“Damn, you feel good,” Tatum groaned in my ear as he pushed closer, deeper. He stayed right there, not pulling back, just circling his hips, massaging my walls. “You ain’t right, you know that?” he asked, making me grin even in the midst of a moan as he suddenly started stroking again.
“I ain’t right for what? Having good pussy?” I managed to breathe.
“Mmhmm,” he grunted against my mouth. “Nothing is supposed to feel this fucking good. You had to have sold your soul for this.”
“Damn fool,” I giggled as he increased his pace. He let go of his grip on my ass, slipping a hand between us to play with my clit as he stroked.
“Ohhhhhh,” I moaned. “You the one that’s not right.”
“Wrong,” he chuckled. “This is the most correct dick you ever got.”