7. Abigail
Hunter’s hand slides down my back and settles on the curve of my ass possessively.
“What do you say, baby?” He grins. “Ready to ride your cowboy?”
The answering throb between my legs is unmistakable.
“Is that what you are now? My cowboy?” I tease, even as I shift my body to straddle his hips. His erection presses against me, hot and insistent.
“Damn right I am.” His hands find my waist, and he digs his fingers into my flesh. “And don’t you forget it.”
I place my palms on his chest, feeling the solid wall of muscle beneath my fingers.
Hunter is nothing like the finance guys I’ve dated in Houston. They’re all lean from their gym memberships but soft in ways they don’t realize. Hunter’s body has been sculpted by years of physical labor, by wrestling calves and hauling hay bales, and riding fence lines in every kind of weather. There’s not an ounce of softness to him.
“I love watching you when you’re like this.” His voice drops to that commanding tone that makes my insides liquify. “I love the look on your face when you get turned on.”
My entire body flushes at his words.
I should be embarrassed by how freely he talks about sex, but instead, I find myself leaning into it. I crave the raw honesty of his desire.
I rise up on my knees and position myself above him. His hands guide my hips as I slowly sink down onto him. The feeling of him stretching me, filling me completely, draws a gasp from my lips. My head falls back as I take all of him in and adjust to his size.
“Fuck, Abby.” Hunter’s voice is strained. “You have no idea how sexy you look right now.”
I open my eyes to find him watching me with an intensity that steals my breath. His gaze travels from where our bodies join up to my breasts and finally to my face.
“Move for me, baby,” he urges, drawing circles on my hipbones with his thumbs.
I rock against him and find a rhythm that makes us both moan. It’s different this way. Deeper, somehow. I feel powerful perched above him and enjoy watching his expressions change as I move faster, then slower, teasing us both.
“Goddman, Abby.” He thrusts his hips up to meet mine. “Look at you riding this cock like you own it. Keep going, baby. Take what you want.”
And I do.
I ride him with increasing confidence, my hands braced on his chest, my thighs working as I lift and lower myself. Each downward stroke sends jolts of pleasure radiating through me.
“Yes, Hunter, please,” I gasp as his fingers circle my clit. “Right there.”
“You gonna come for me again?” His voice is a dark promise. “Can’t wait to feel you squeeze my cock when you do.”
His words are filthy and perfect, and they push me closer to the edge. My movements become less coordinated as tension coils tighter in my core. Hunter must sense I’m close because he takes over, gripping my hips and thrusting up into me with precision that has me seeing stars.
“That’s it, baby. Let go for me,” he commands, and my body obeys.
The orgasm rips through me with stunning force.
I cry out his name as waves of pleasure crash over me, and my inner muscles clench around him in rhythmic pulses.
But before I can recover, Hunter flips us over and pins me beneath him without breaking our connection.
“Fuck that was hot,” he snarls as he hooks one of my legs over his arm to open me wider. “Do it again, honey. Make this pussy come for me again.”
Hunter drives into me with renewed purpose, his thrusts deep and relentless. I’m helpless beneath him and take everything he gives me as I clutch at his back.
“Mine.” He says the word against my neck, and I feel it more than hear it. “You’re mine, Abby.”
Hunter’s rhythm falters and becomes erratic.
“Yours,” I whisper. Then I wrap my legs around his waist and urge him deeper. “Only yours.”
A second later, his whole body tenses as he empties himself inside me with a rough groan of my name.
We lie tangled together afterward. Hunter’s weight presses me into the mattress, but I don’t want him to move. I want to stay connected to him like this, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through both our bodies.
Eventually, he rolls to the side, but he keeps one arm draped possessively across my waist. We face each other in the dim light, and neither of us speaks for several minutes. We just study each other’s features as if seeing them for the first time.
And I guess in a way, I am.
I’ve known Hunter Thomas my entire life. I’ve seen him laugh with my brothers around the bonfire, stern-faced while giving instructions to the ranch hands, gentle while tending to an injured calf.
But I’ve never seen him like this.
I’ve never seen him vulnerable, his defenses completely lowered, looking at me like I’m the answer to a question he’s been asking his whole life.
“I need to tell you something,” he says finally, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheek. “And I know it’s probably too soon, and maybe it’ll scare you off, but I need to say it anyway.”
My heart hammers against my ribs.
Is he regretting this already? Is he about to tell me this was a mistake?
“I love you, Abigail Clayton.” His voice is rough with emotion. “Have loved you for years. Tried like hell not to, but I do.”
Relief floods through me, followed quickly by a joy so intense it steals my breath. I search his face for any sign of hesitation, but find only earnest certainty in his amber eyes.
“I came back to Cooper Hills for the ranch,” he continues, “but I stayed for you. Even when I told myself it was impossible, that you’d never come back from Houston, that your brother would kill me if he knew how I felt about you. None of it mattered. I still woke up every morning hoping you’d come back to me.”
My throat tightens with emotion.
I reach out to trace the strong line of his jaw. I like feeling the rough scratch of his beard against my fingertips. “I’m glad you finally said something.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath and gather my courage. “Because I love you too, Hunter. I think maybe I always have.”
His eyes darken at my words, and he pulls me closer and presses his forehead against mine. “Say it again.”
“I love you.”
The words come easier this time, as if they’ve been waiting just beneath the surface, ready to spill out.
“You know this changes everything.” He drifts his hand down my spine. “There’s no going back after this.”
“I don’t want to go back.” I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I want to go forward. With you.”
His chest rumbles with soft laughter. “Then we’re agreed. This is serious.”
“Very serious.” I press a kiss to his collarbone.
Hunter tilts my chin up, his expression earnest. “What about Houston?”
The question sobers me.
My life in Houston feels increasingly distant, like a reality that belongs to someone else. The corner office, the carefully planned career trajectory, the lonely dinners in my pristine condo. None of it compares to this feeling of belonging.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say, surprised by my own certainty. “Some things are worth rearranging your life for.”
His smile is slow and devastating. “And I’m one of those things?”
“The most important one.”
Hunter captures my hand and presses a kiss to my palm that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Good. Because I’m not letting you go, Abby Clayton. Not now, not ever.”
The possessiveness in his voice should set off warning bells. Instead, it makes me feel safe. This is what my brothers found, I realize. This certainty that you’ve found your person.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise as my eyes grow heavy with satisfied exhaustion.
Hunter’s arms tighten around me as sleep begins to claim us both. The last thing I feel is his lips pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead as the storm outside finally begins to fade.
Sunlight streams through unfamiliar curtains the next morning. It warms my face and pulls me from deep sleep. For a moment, I lie disoriented and struggle to place the unfamiliar room and the warm weight draped across my waist.
Hunter.
Memories of last night flood back in a rush of sensation. His hands on my skin. The way our bodies moved together as if they’d been made for each other.
I shift slightly to try and see the time without disturbing him. The digital clock on his nightstand glows 10:47 a.m.
My heart jolts with panic.
“Hunter,” I whisper as I push gently at his shoulder. “Hunter, wake up.”
He mumbles something unintelligible and pulls me closer. Then his lips find my shoulder in a sleepy kiss.
“Five more minutes.” His morning voice is a deep rumble that vibrates through his chest.
I twist in his arms to face him and place my hands on either side of his stubbled face.
“Hunter, seriously. I’m going to be late for my family brunch. If I don’t show up, my brothers will send out a search party.”
His eyes finally open, and confusion gives way to understanding as he processes my words.
“Let them look,” he says with a lazy smile. His hand comes up to brush a stray curl from my face. “They’ll find you exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
I push against his chest, my practical nature asserting itself despite the temptation to stay wrapped in his arms.
“Hunter, this isn’t funny. We need to get back to the main house right now.”
Hunter sighs and releases me, though reluctance is evident in every movement. Quickly, I get up and begin searching for my clothes.
“Abby.” His voice is gentle but firm. “We’re not teenagers sneaking around. We’re grown adults who love each other. What exactly are you afraid of?”
His question cuts through my panic.
What am I afraid of? That my brothers will disapprove? That they’ll see me differently?
“I don’t know,” I admit, clutching his shirt to my chest. “It’s just... this is all happening so fast.”
“It’s like I told you last night, baby. You’re mine.” Hunter’s amber eyes are intense. “And I’m yours. Everything else is just details.”
His confidence steadies me. This is the man who runs ten thousand acres with unwavering authority, who makes decisions without second-guessing himself, who knows exactly what he wants and isn’t afraid to claim it.
And somehow, what he wants is me.
“You’re right.” My shoulders relax slightly. “I’m overthinking this.”
Hunter’s smile is triumphant as he rises from the bed, completely unself-conscious in his nudity.
The sight momentarily distracts me.
The defined planes of his torso, the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath the sheet, the small scar near his collarbone I kissed last night. I force myself to look away because one lingering glance could lead us right back where we started.
He crosses to where I stand frozen and takes his shirt from my hands and tosses it aside.
“Let me help you find your clothes.” He slides his hand around my waist and murmurs into my ear. “Though I much prefer you without them.”
I laugh despite myself and shove playfully at his chest.
“Focus, Thomas. We have twenty minutes to get to the main house.”
We scramble for our clothes, and the urgency creates a frantic energy. Yet we can’t seem to stop touching each other. His fingers brush mine as he passes me my bra, my hand rests briefly on his back as I move past him, we steal kisses between buttons and zippers.
Once dressed, I assess my appearance in the mirror hanging on his closet door.
Instantly, I feel my face burn.
My hair is a wild tangle, and my lips are swollen. There’s a bite mark on my neck that will be impossible to hide, and my clothes are hopelessly wrinkled.
Hunter appears behind me in the mirror.
“Almost ready to go, gorgeous?”
“Yeah, almost.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I look like I just spent the night having wild sex with the ranch manager.”
Hunter’s grin widens. “Is that a problem?”
I bite my lip.
“Not a problem, exactly. Just different.”
“That’s because you did. We’re not about to apologize for it. I’m not hiding what I feel for you. Not from your brothers, not from anyone. Nowlet’s go face your family together. As a couple.”
The word sends a thrill through me. A couple. It has a ring to it that makes my heart skip.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
The drive to the main house passes too quickly, and my anxiety returns with each mile. Hunter reaches across the console to take my hand, stroking reassuring circles against my skin with his thumb.
“It’s going to be fine,” he promises as we pull up in front of the main house. “Trust me.”
I nod and summon my courage as we approach the front door. To my surprise, Hunter doesn’t let go of my hand as we enter. If anything, his grip tightens, a clear statement to anyone who sees us.
We follow the sound of voices and laughter to the kitchen, where the unmistakable aroma of Melody’s famous cinnamon rolls fills the air. My heart pounds against my ribs as we step through the doorway, hand in hand.
The scene that greets us stops me in my tracks.
The massive oak table is perfectly set for Sunday brunch. Eleven place settings surround the table, each with my grandmother’s china and carefully folded napkins. Two empty chairs sit side by side, clearly waiting for Hunter and me.
They expected us. Together.
Wyatt notices us first.
“About time you two showed up.” He glances up from where he’s pouring coffee. “Melody was about to send out the cavalry.”
There’s no surprise in his voice, no shock at seeing his sister holding hands with his ranch manager. Just mild exasperation at our tardiness.
Melody turns from the stove with a knowing smile on her lips as her eyes drop to our joined hands.
“Well, don’t just stand there. The eggs are getting cold.”
I stand frozen, unable to process the casual reception. Hunter strokes his thumb across my knuckles as he leads us toward the empty chairs.
Brody looks up from his conversation with Luke, and his eyes twinkle with mischief.
“So, how was your meeting about those ranch improvements last night? Must have been quite a discussion.”
Heat floods my cheeks.
“Never got around to it,” Hunter says matter-of-factly as he reaches for the coffee pot at the center of the table.
Luke bursts out laughing as he holds his hand out to Brody.
“Pay up, brother. Told you he’d just come right out and say it.”
Brody sighs dramatically.
“Dammit, Thomas.” He pulls out his wallet and slaps a fifty-dollar bill into Luke’s palm. “Couldn’t you have played it cool for one more day?”
My jaw drops as my eyes flick between the two of them.
“You two were betting on us?”
Savannah smiles sympathetically from across the table.
“Honey, you should see the way you two look at each other. We’ve all been waiting for you to figure it out.”
I look specifically at Wyatt, the most protective of my brothers.
“You aren’t upset?”
Wyatt snorts and passes Hunter a plate stacked with bacon.
“Upset that my sister found happiness with one of the best men I know? Try again, Abby.”
“But if you hurt her, we’ll have to kill you,” Jace adds cheerfully as he squeezes Lindsay’s hand. “Family code and all that.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” Hunter replies with equal seriousness, though I catch the slight quirk of his lips. “But it won’t be necessary. Your sister is everything to me.”
The simple declaration makes my throat tight with emotion.
After years of watching my brothers find their perfect matches, I’ve finally found mine. The financial analyst from Houston and the ranch manager from Cooper Hills. We’re an unlikely pair perhaps, but somehow perfectly right.
“So, when are you moving back to Wyoming?” Melody asks casually as she passes me a platter of bacon.
I freeze, a strip of bacon halfway to my plate.
“I... I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”
But even as I say it, I realize it’s not entirely true. Last night, lying in Hunter’s arms, I started mentally drafting an email to my boss about extending my vacation. About exploring remote work options.
“Yes, you have,” Hunter says quietly beside me, his eyes knowing. “And so have I.”
Our gazes lock, and a thousand unspoken promises pass between us. The life we could build here, together. The future suddenly stretching out before us, full of possibility.
“Well, whenever you decide,” Savannah says, “we have plenty of room at the Fit Mountain Monthly for a financial director. Just saying.”
“And Hunter’s cabin could use a woman’s touch,” Brody adds with a wink. “Those curtains are atrocious.”
The conversation flows around us as my family already incorporates Hunter and me as a couple into their future plans. Wedding dates are jokingly suggested. Melody offers nursery decorating advice “for when the time comes.”
Through it all, Hunter’s hand remains firmly clasped with mine on top of the table, and he lazily traces patterns against my skin with his thumb. The small, intimate gesture speaks volumes, tells me this is real, this is lasting, this is just the beginning.
As I look around the table at my family, at the brothers who have always supported me and the women who have become sisters in every way that matters, I feel a sense of homecoming unlike anything I’ve experienced before. This is where I belong. Not in a sterile Houston high-rise, but here, with these people. With Hunter.
Later, as Hunter drives us back to his cabin, the future we’ve only begun to imagine stretches before us like the Wyoming sky, vast, beautiful, and full of promise.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
I smile as I watch the familiar landscape rush past the window.
“I’m thinking that I need to call my boss tomorrow. And my landlord in Houston.”
Hunter’s answering smile is slow and satisfied.
“Does that mean what I think it means?”
“It means I’m coming home,” I say simply. “For good.”
His hand tightens on my leg, possessive and tender all at once. “I like the sound of that.”
As we pull up to his cabin, which is our cabin now, I suppose, I realize that sometimes the most unexpected detours lead exactly where you’re meant to be. A near-fall from a cliff, a rescue, a stolen kiss, and suddenly my carefully planned life has transformed into something infinitely more beautiful.
Hunter helps me from the truck and pulls me against him for a kiss that promises forever.
And as I loop my arms around his neck, I know with absolute certainty that this is just the beginning of our story.
THE END
***