Chapter 16 #2
To my surprise, Mike nodded. “I know. I’d never ask you to stay somewhere you hate. This place wasn’t kind to you. Out of everyone, I feel like I understand that the most. Sometimes places just need to be left behind.”
I nodded, hating where the conversation was going. But it had to be said. “That’s why this… thing between us can’t be more than just sex, okay?” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince him or myself. “Once the ranch sells, I’m gone.”
“And I’m contracted to be the pastor here for at least five years,” Mike replied, offering up that piece of the equation that I didn’t know about.
Even if I wanted him to, he couldn’t follow me.
“Then we understand one another,” I sighed, pulling away from him. “It’s just sex. Nothin’ more.”
Even as I said those words, I felt a tightness in my chest that I couldn’t explain. Mike’s face remained neutral, but something flickered in his eyes. Disappointment, maybe? Or resignation? I wasn’t sure.
“Just sex,” he repeated softly. “Nothing more.”
The silence that followed felt heavier than it should have. The morning light was growing stronger now, highlighting the curves of his body, the mess we’d made of his sheets. I should’ve felt satisfied with setting those boundaries, making things clear between us. Instead, I felt hollow.
“I should get up,” I said, throwing back the covers. “Got calls to make about the ranch.”
Mike nodded, stretching his arms above his head in a way that made his muscles ripple.
Damn him. “I’ve got to prepare for Sunday service, anyway.
The refugees from the tornado are finally getting other lodging from the insurance companies.
This’ll be my first sermon since arriving here and I want it to be a good one. ”
I stood, suddenly aware of my nakedness in the bright morning light. Usually, I didn’t give a shit who saw me naked, but something about Mike’s gaze made me feel exposed in ways that had nothing to do with my lack of clothes.
“You want coffee?” he asked, sitting up and reaching for his discarded sweatpants.
“Yeah, sure,” I replied, grabbing my jeans from the floor. “I’ll, uh, be out in a minute.”
He nodded and padded out of the room, giving me a moment alone with my thoughts.
I ran my hands through my hair, exhaling slowly.
What the hell was happening to me? I’d come here with a simple plan.
I was going to sell the ranch, get the money, and never look back at Sagebrush again.
Now I was tangled up with a pastor who made me…
feel things. When the fuck had that happened?
When I finally made my way to the kitchen, Mike was standing at the counter, shirtless, pouring coffee into two mugs. The sight of him, relaxed, at ease in his own space, made my stomach flutter.
“Here,” he said, sliding a mug toward me. “Black, right?”
I nodded, surprised he’d noticed. “Thanks.”
Our fingers brushed as I took the mug, and that simple touch sent electricity up my arm. I pulled back quickly, taking a long sip of coffee to hide my reaction.
“I’m thinking of making breakfast,” Mike said, leaning against the counter. “Eggs and toast? Nothing fancy, but—”
“You don’t have to feed me,” I cut in, harsher than I intended. “I can take care of myself.”
He didn’t return my harsh tone, only raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a marriage proposal, Cash. It’s breakfast.”
I felt my face heat up. “Sorry. I just... I’m not used to this.”
“To what? Breakfast?”
“To any of it,” I admitted. “The mornin’ after. Stayin’. Coffee. All of it.”
Mike’s expression softened. “You usually just leave, huh?”
“Before they wake up, if I can manage it.”
He took a sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim of his mug. “Well, that would’ve been difficult since you’re staying in my house.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, I guess it would’ve.”
The tension eased a bit. Mike moved around the kitchen, pulling out eggs and bread, his movements casual and fluid. I leaned against the doorframe, watching him work. It felt strangely domestic, and even stranger was how much I didn’t hate it.
“You know,” Mike said as he cracked eggs into a bowl, “just because we can’t have... more... doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy what time we do have.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, whisking the eggs with a fork. “I mean, you’re here now. I’m here. We clearly enjoy each other’s company—”
“You mean we enjoy fuckin’ each other,” I corrected.
“That too,” he agreed, unfazed by my crudeness. “But we could also just... be friends. Hang out. Talk. Whatever.”
I snorted. “Friends with benefits?”
“Is that so hard to imagine?” He poured the eggs into a hot pan. “You said it yourself. You’re going to leave eventually. I’m staying here. We both know where we stand. So why not make the most of the time we have?”
I stared at him, trying to figure out his angle. But there didn’t seem to be one. He was just... offering friendship. Along with the best sex I’d ever had.
“I don’t really do friends,” I said finally.
Mike glanced over his shoulder at me, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I gathered that. But maybe it’s time you tried something new.”
The toast popped up, and he busied himself buttering it. I watched his hands, remembering how they’d felt on my body just an hour ago.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, surprising myself.
Mike’s smile widened. “Good. Now sit down and eat your eggs before they get cold.”