Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
I woke up panting, my heart thundering in my chest, and the sheets a tangled mess around my legs. I took a moment to come fully awake, realizing as I did that my sheets were soaked with cum.
Two seconds ago, I’d been on my stomach in the bed of my truck parked up on a ridge on our property, Eden’s dress hiked up around her hips, my shoulders bracing her thighs wide and my mouth lapping at her cunt.
Her fingers were tangled in my hair as she moaned my name, and told me to make her see stars.
The dream version of me had come in his jeans like a trigger-happy teenager when she whispered that she missed the way I took care of her.
“Christ,” I murmured, dragging my hands down my face as my dick gave a slight twitch at the memory of her voice in my head. That’s it, Jake. Oh fuck. Right there. Don’t stop. You know just what I like.
With a groan, I threw the sheets off and pushed to my feet, yanking them free from my mattress and tossing them in the hamper on my way to the shower, muttering a curse as I twisted the water on.
It had been almost twenty years since this had happened to me, but I’d spent so long repressing my memories of that summer with Eden that it was no wonder this was how they were coming back to me.
By midmorning, I was out at the barn clearing space for all the fundraiser stuff Eden would be dropping off later.
I’d spread new straw over the floors to cut down on dust, but it was still a dirty task.
When I’d volunteered the barn for the school’s annual fundraiser, I hadn’t truly known what I was getting myself into.
But I’d wanted my son to be welcome at Wild Ridge Academy, where his teachers would actually make an effort to address his needs, so I’d used every tool in my arsenal—including bribery.
Growing up, this space had been the heart of community gatherings—Mom had insisted on it.
She’d organized dances every summer, wedding receptions for half the county, and harvest celebrations that went on until dawn.
The woman had a gift for bringing people together, and she’d made sure this old building stayed ready for whatever the community needed.
But after she died, and then Dad a few years later, my brothers and I had just …
stopped. We’d kept the structure maintained, of course, but it mostly sat empty except for storage and the occasional overflow of farm equipment.
It felt strange now, preparing it for people again, like I was trying to channel some of Bettina Mercer’s old magic.
Gage wandered in halfway through, an apple in one hand and a baseball cap flipped around backward on his head. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking around at all the work I’d done this morning instead of the ranch chores I should have been doing.
“Eden’s dropping fundraiser supplies off later,” I said, stacking a bale of hay against the far wall.
Gage was quiet for a moment, chewing his snack thoughtfully. “You sure you know what you’re doing, Jake?”
I paused. “What do you mean?”
“Come on. You have to recognize you’ve been different ever since she came back to town.
Walking around in a daze half the time, the other …
” He shook his head. “I don’t know, man.
Like you’re waiting for her to want to pick things back up where you left off.
” He took another bite of his apple. “Just … be careful, okay? Cole’s gotten attached to his teacher, and if things go sideways?—”
“Nothing’s going sideways,” I said, my voice firm.
He chuckled wryly. “Famous last words, brother.”
I shot him a look. “Are you going to help me, or what?”
“Sure thing.” Gage crunched into his apple, examined it while he chewed, and then tossed it into the garbage bin. “What do you need?”
“Help me move these feed sacks to the other side. And we need to sweep out that back corner. Looks like mice might have been there at some point.”
Truth was, I didn’t actually need his help. What I needed was something to do with my hands, something to keep my mind occupied … especially after this morning’s incredibly vivid dream. Because every time I pictured her walking into this barn, I got hard again.
I needed to get a fucking grip on my libido.
Gage nodded, rolling up his sleeves. “You want these folding tables set up in any particular way?”
I shook my head, leaning on the broom handle. “Nah, Eden will probably have opinions about that when she gets here.”
I was adjusting the last stack of hay bales when a truck pulled in.
I made my way to the wide double doors just in time to see her hop down out of the cab, her face flushed from the heat, and her hair falling out of a messy bun.
She had on a t-shirt thin enough to show the outline of her bra and an old pair of Levi’s.
My gaze dropped to her feet and stuck there.
Those boots. The same Tony Lamas I’d bought her when she’d shown up here ten years ago in some cheap knockoffs that weren’t even genuine leather.
No woman of mine was walking this ranch in anything less than the best.
My throat went dry remembering all the times I’d seen her wearing nothing but those damn boots.
“Hey,” she called out, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“Hey,” I managed, wiping my hands on my jeans. “You find the place okay?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I immediately felt like an idiot. Of course, she found it all right. She’d been here probably fifty times back when we were together.
My face heated up as I shook my head. “Sorry, stupid question. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.” I snapped my mouth shut, my teeth clacking, to stop my babbling, and ran a hand through my hair, trying to pull myself together.
Eden studied me for a moment, something soft and warm crossing her face. Then she smiled—not the careful, polite smile I’d gotten used to seeing on her face since she’d been back, but something that felt more like the old Eden. The woman I’d once fallen head over heels in love with.
“Well,” she said, glancing toward the truck. “If I can get your help unpacking, I’ll be out of your hair.”
We fell into an easy rhythm unloading the truck. She grabbed a box marked “Silent Auction Items” while I pulled out what looked like a box of decorations, streamers, and ribbons spilling out the top.
“Careful with that one,” she said, gesturing with her chin to the box. “Mrs. Henderson spent all day Sunday making those tissue paper flowers.”
“They certainly look … colorful.” Honestly, I hadn’t been able to tell they were flowers. They just looked like crumpled-up tissue paper stuck on top of green pipe cleaners.
“They look like a craft store exploded, but don't you dare tell her I said that.” She grinned. “That woman takes her volunteer work very seriously.”
“Hey!” She paused mid-step, turning toward me with sudden excitement. “I saw Rae Griffin’s performing at the Fieldhouse in a couple of months. Know anyone who might be willing to sell me a ticket? It’s already sold out.”
I hefted another box out of the back of my truck, the weight making me grunt slightly. “Not off the top of my head, but I can ask Nash if he knows anyone willing to part with one.”
“Thanks!” she chirped, tossing me a pretty smile as she bounced on her toes, her dimple popping in her right cheek.
I crossed the barn and set the box down on its table, dusting off my hands. “If you’re still listening to Rae Griffin, I reckon that means you’re still obsessed with Taylor Swift, too?”
“Always.” Eden grabbed a lighter box, hugging it against her chest. “She’s one of our great American poets.”
“You won’t see me argue with that,” I said, moving back to the truck and leaning against the tailgate. “Though I still say you’re missing out on some good traditional country music. Not that pop stuff masquerading as country.”
Eden rolled her eyes and popped her hands on her hips. “Let me guess—you still have George Straight on constant rotation?”
“What’s wrong with George Strait?”
“Nothing, if you enjoy songs that all sound exactly the same. Or like trucks.”
“He has one song about trucks … and it’s actually about truckers.”
She threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the rafters.
“God, I missed riling you up.” Her words hung in the air between us.
I watched her face change as she realized what she’d said, the laughter fading as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and glanced away. “You know what I mean.”
I set the last box down slowly, not taking my eyes off her. “Yeah, I do.” Because fuck. I missed her riling me up, too.
Eden cleared her throat and turned to head back outside.
I followed a step behind, watching the way her hips swayed in those jeans, the way her boots kicked up little puffs of dust.
“I was talking to Carol yesterday,” she said over her shoulder in what felt like an attempt to try and shift the conversation away from the charged comment about getting riled up.
“She said tickets for the fundraiser are sold out, and several families have even asked for extras. The head of the PTO keeps calling it our ‘autumn spectacular,’ which makes it sound like something out of a?—”
Her toe caught on a loose board, and she pitched forward. I lunged after her, my arms wrapping around her waist from behind, pulling her back against my chest before she could hit the ground. Her breath hitched, and her spine straightened as she lifted her head to look up.
Every rational thought screamed at me to step back.
I’d spent ten years building walls around the part of me that had loved this woman, and here she was, demolishing them with nothing more than her laugh and the way she tucked her hair behind her ear—that same nervous habit that used to drive me wild.