Hannah
Hot water rains down on me from my place on the shower floor.
I stare at the tiled wall until the water begins to run cold.
Images of Dean's face buried between my thighs flicker every time I close my eyes.
God, he felt so good. His hands ran tenderly over every inch of my skin until he flipped that switch and dominated me, pulling me against his tongue over and over until I fell apart, the hot rock burning into my back as I arched further into his grip.
Shaking my head, I try and fail to clear the heat beginning to take over, my sex screaming at me to walk out of my room bare ass naked, seek him out, and straddle him.
Every time I think I can pull away from him, put some distance between us to see if what we have is real or just convenient, he sucks me back in.
Chills break out over my skin, and I shiver under the water that has now gone cold.
Dressing for bed, I listen for sounds in the house, but all I hear is a steady rhythm of music playing from the living room.
I hoped the ride back from the river would be awkward, something to give justification to separate from the man who has stolen my will power.
But the moment our breaths had evened out, Dean hauled me into the water with him and we’d floated lazily until the sun began to dip behind the tops of the trees.
We laughed together as our numb fingers fumbled with our clothes.
It felt harmonious, right, like we just fall into sync around each other.
He’d pulled a sweatshirt out of his saddle bag and tugged it over my head, bending to kiss the tip of my nose before he placed my Mitchell hat back on my wet curls.
And then we rode back to the cabin in blissful quiet, just the sound of hooves sinking into black dirt and the birds chirping around us.
It wasn’t until the front door came into view that I began to question how the evening should play out.
He’d just had his tongue inside me, for fuck’s sake.
Do I climb into the shower with him and fall into his bed?
My head raced with every possible scenario, instead we spent thirty minutes in silence putting saddles away and brushing off our horses, clumsily reaching for a bucket of oats at the same time.
My cheeks flamed at the brush of his hand on my hip as he passed around me.
When he had his back to me, I turned on my heel and didn’t stop until I’d closed my bedroom door behind me.
He didn’t come to me, didn’t knock on my door, didn’t sneak into the shower with me.
Is he feeling the same way? He told me he loved me, and I didn’t say anything back. Did I mess everything up?
“Fuck!” I scream into my pillow, curling up in the bed and groaning at his smell that still lingers on the sheets.
Even through the clean smell of his body wash, the sheets smell like I’ve stepped into a field on a sunny day.
I close my eyes and picture standing in knee high brome grass, face tilted to the sun, horses nickering nearby.
That’s what he smells like, and I swear my soul cries out for me to run to him and breathe him in every moment of every day.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, thankfully breaking my treacherous train of thought with a text from Matty.
Can’t wait to see you tomorrow, honey! Drive safe.
Letting out a deep exhale, I sink into the pillows. Distance. That’s all we need, then we can address everything after the circuit is done. Figure out how to co-parent and whatever this magnetic pull is that keeps us coming back together.
“Distance.” I nod to myself, trying and failing to convince myself. Setting my alarm, I pray that I leave before he wakes up. Then I roll myself tightly in the covers, hoping that if I trap myself, I won’t wander off to find that dark and tempting cowboy in my sleep.
A silhouette of a tall man dressed in all black, black fringes of his chaps waving in the late summer breeze, a broad hand running through unruly hair, haunts my dreams. Before my alarm even sounds, I’m already wide awake.
Giving up, I toss the covers to the side and check my phone, groaning at the early hour.
Nibbling my lip, I look out the window at the moonlit pasture and back at the bed.
Rolling my eyes, I begin packing my bag, tossing in the clothes I brought in from my trailer and had washed earlier that day.
I clean out the bathroom and make the bed before grabbing my leather bag by the handles and tiptoeing to the door.
I only open it wide enough for me to slip through, holding my breath that the hinges keep quiet.
Soft lights glow from the end tables in the living room, but I don’t see any other lights or hear any movement from the hall that leads to Dean’s room.
Softly closing the door behind me, I take long strides to the front door and slip on my boots, cringing at the dampness that seeps into my socks.
I mentally chastise myself for not leaving them by the fire to dry.
The early morning chill hits my face as I step outside and silently click the front door shut behind me.
I take a moment to admire the endless fields in front of me, sucking in the fresh air like I’ll never taste it again.
Then I do my best to ignore the way my heart aches at the idea of leaving this place.
I know I’ll be back eventually. My baby needs to grow up here, wild and free like all kids deserve to be raised.
Whether Dean and I are together or not. Instinctively, I place a hand over my belly, closing my eyes and allowing myself a moment to picture a life with him and this baby.
The idea of it makes me want to turn around and crawl into bed with him.
As I wait for the cab to heat up, I look back at the dark cabin and close my eyes, trying to walk through my emotions.
Slowly I hold up my hand and list off all the things that stand in the way of me choosing to be with Dean.
“Honest.” Half a finger, I guess. I try a few more times to think of anything else that would prevent me from being with him.
“Damn it,” I finally admit, that’s the only thing.
And if I’m being honest I understand why he wasn’t forthcoming about the fall out with me.
Resting my head against the seat, I close my eyes again and list out all the traits that I love about him.
“Patient.” I put one finger up. “Protective.” Two fingers for that.
“Dedicated.” Yes. “Hardworking.” Check. I go on and on until I lose count of how many fingers I’ve put up.
Dropping my shoulders in defeat, I finally admit to myself that yes, I’m all in when it comes to Dean and this baby.
I want to forgive him, need to forgive him, and I plan on doing just that.
As soon as I finish up this last ride and the clinic, then I can put all my effort into moving forward.
The six hour drive into Kansas passes in a blur, and before I know it, Matty is waving at me from the entrance as I turn my trailer into the lot. Rolling my window down, he steps next to my door and leans in, giving me a peck on the cheek.
“Got an early start, I see.” His grin clears out all the thoughts of a stormy eyed cowboy that plagued my long drive.
I smile back as he rounds the front of the truck and hops into the passenger seat.
Together we park and unload, working together effortlessly like we have for years.
Every so often I look over at him and catch him giving me a knowing smirk.
“Ok, old man, spill it.” I turn to him, finally having enough of his sideways glances. I place one hand on my hip and point a finger at him. “What story are you making up in that brain of yours?”
Matty raises his hands in surrender, putting the brush that rests in his hand gently down on the shelf beside him.
“Honey, I’ve known you a long time.” I raise one eyebrow at him.
He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the side of the trailer.
“I saw the way that boy looks at you.” He tilts his head to the side, those wrinkled eyes full of amusement.
“And the way you look at him. It’s the same way I look at my wife.
” I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off.
“The same way your dad looked at your mama.” My teeth clack together and tears begin to well.
“Oh, honey.” In a heartbeat, his arms wrap around me, pulling me into his comfortable embrace, and I let my tears and sobs soak his sleeve.
“I’m so scared.” I heave out between hiccups.
I feel his chin nod up and down against my head.
“The only people I’ve ever loved ended up…
gone. I can’t survive that again.” Matty listens as I explain how confused I am, and when I get to the part about Dean’s family he lets out a deep sigh and pulls his hat off his head to run a hand over his gray hair.
“Hannah, family is complicated. Did he lie, or just not tell you the whole truth.”
“Is there a difference?”
“It’s a fine line,” about to prove my point, his large hands raise to stop me.
Slumping back against the trailer I close my mouth and listen.
“Honey, your feelings are valid. I’m not saying you aren’t allowed to be confused or hurt.
” Matty gives me a soft smile, and I feel a weight begin to dissolve from my heavy heart.
“Sure he didn’t divulge the whole truth about his family.
But sometimes people keep things to themselves to protect their own heart. ”
Tilting my head I let loose an exhausted breath, “What do you mean, Matty?”