Chapter 3 #2
And it’s then that my attraction kickstarts my heart. Seeing Monroe for the first time, and the way her eyes beg me to give her life.
Leaning forward, I move slow enough that she can step away before placing my lips over hers. Pulling her closer so there isn’t an inch of space between us, I lick across her plump lips before sucking on the bottom one.
She’s inactive at first but quickly gets into the moment when her fingers tighten on my biceps, and her mouth opens slightly. I take the invitation to go deeper. Discover more of her. She shivers, and I don’t hesitate to lift her shirt the slightest bit, exposing her soft flesh for exploration.
All too quickly, we’re both gasping for a breath of air, and for the first time since laying eyes on her photograph, I see a little bit of life in her stare, and her lips quirk up at the sides as she sighs.
“That was nice,” she whispers as she leans her head against my chest. “I’ve never done that before.” At her confession, my hands freeze as I’m rubbing her back. I would never have guessed that. I knew Monroe was inexperienced, but never being kissed is so tempting.
“Now you have,” I murmur into her hair. I hope to give her many more firsts after today.
* * *
Monroe
I feel dazed. Excited. Amped up in a way that I haven’t felt in far too long.
Shaw kissed me.
It wasn’t anything spectacular or wildly romantic, but it was my first, and it was perfect.
The kiss was mine.
I think out of everything I’m feeling, having that sweet moment between us and making it ours is one of the best moments of my life.
Which is sad because I’ve won titles, money, scholarships. I have so much to be grateful for, but it is this unexpected kiss that is going to be the most memorable for me.
After rushing through my shower and staring at the cut on my cheek for too long, I hesitantly open the bathroom door, and immediately, smell coffee and bacon.
My stomach gurgles at the aromas because even knowing I was being unreasonable, I didn’t eat anything since my breakfast before our flight here yesterday.
I can already hear Mari the cow crying outside. My first instinct is to go to her, but I know I have to start putting myself first and learn to do what I like and want instead of what’s expected. Starting with breakfast.
Padding down the stairs on silent feet, I hear Shaw and Rita in the kitchen talking, and as I walk closer, I gain a clearer picture as to who Shaw is in his home. His decor is rustic in a Joanna Gaines fashion but in more dark wash colors instead of lighter.
The gun case near what I assume is his office is slightly terrifying with five large guns. I don’t know anything about the weapons, so I couldn’t begin to guess what they are.
Substantial, bulky furniture is prevalent throughout the house, and even though it might not be my usual style, it sure looks comfortable. Like the plush cushions could swallow me up as I get lost in a good book.
Slipping unnoticed into the kitchen is easy, as Shaw is sitting at the bar sipping from his cup, and Rita is turned around at the stove, flipping what looks like pancakes. Settling at the round teak table, I listen as they talk about the day’s chores.
Not noticing how early it was when I woke up this morning, I’m surprised to see it’s not even eight yet.
“Do you think it’s the mother?” My head pops up at Rita’s question, and I pay closer attention.
“I do.” Shaw’s deep voice sounds troubled. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out they’re talking about me and why I’m here.
The direction their conversation is taking makes me uncomfortable, though.
But it might also end up the only way I’ll find out what’s going on.
All I have been told is that someone has invaded my space, and I need to disappear for a while.
I was never informed of what type of danger I was or could be in, and when I pushed for more, my mother and Claire would always send me off to the gym, practice, or an appointment.
“But do you really believe a mother could threat– Oh!” Rita stops mid-sentence when she turns to face Shaw and sees me. “Good morning, Monroe.” She plasters a false smile on her face, and I wish I could say I wasn’t used to everyone doing that.
“Good morning.” I don’t return her smile. I wish I could explain to people why I’m like this, but they never understand. Half the world believes even a fake smile can solve problems. In my experience, it merely creates more.
“Hungry?” She tries again as Shaw finally spins in his seat.
I nod because my voice gets caught in my throat when my gaze meets his. It's filled with heat and need. I know, precisely, what he is thinking and can feel the slight blush slowly growing up my neck.
“Morning, Monroe.” Biting my lip, I hold in a sigh. I want to go to him, have the confidence to explore the kiss this morning, but I don’t. If he wants something from me, he is going to have to make his intentions known because I have no idea how to express my own. “Coffee?”
“No, thank you.” I don’t tell him that I love coffee, but I’m not allowed to have it. The pageants allow it, but my mother doesn’t. She’s beat it into my head that its addictive qualities are bad for me.
Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. I can’t shake the discipline instilled in me from an age I don’t even remember.
Shaw’s eyes narrow at my answer, and I see worry lines across Rita’s forehead, and I know it has nothing to do with the coffee and everything to do with my refusal.
Not wanting to be rude, I try to explain.
“I was trained from a very young age about what I can and cannot consume. I have an image, a brand to represent, and the expectation is that this isn’t a vacation; therefore, I must treat it like any ordinary day.
” I can instantly tell that they don’t like my answer.
“When’s the last time you did something for yourself? Something that was just because you wanted to and not dictated to.” Rita’s stern question causes me to think hard, and the answer I come up with is sad.
“Yesterday. Sitting with Mari.”
“Sitting with my broken cow is the only thing you’ve ever done for yourself?
” Shaw’s incredulity isn’t surprising. His anger is, though.
“You’re twenty fucking years old, Monroe.
How long are you going to let someone else dictate your life?
” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as he storms off to his office, slamming the door shut behind him.
“Ignore him. He’s passionate about freedom.” Rita fills a plate with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon before bringing it over to me. “You don’t leave until you’ve eaten something off this plate.”
Staring down at the steaming platter of food, I know I should eat it.
All of it if I want to. I’ve already decided I am done with my life in California.
I should be able to eat what I like. Scooping up a fork full of eggs, I stare at the bacon and know that even though I crave the salty taste that comes with it, my mind simply won’t allow me to.
A lifetime of conditioning is ingrained in me, and letting it go is not so easy.
Pushing the plate away, I force myself to stand, grab a bottle of water from the shelf by the counter, and head outside. Mari’s soulful calls are begging for someone to pay her attention.
“Hey, sweet girl.” As soon as I start talking, she begins to limber over to me. I don’t know if I’m allowed to go in her pen, so I remain on my side of the fence. As she sways into my touch, I wish I could get closer to her. I hardly know anything about cows, but I know this heifer's unique.