Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RYAN
In an instant, my daughter Regina transformed from a baby into a lively toddler, full of energy and personality, answering only to the name RJ.
Harrison’s daughter, Ashleigh, gave Regina the nickname, and it stuck—it suited her perfectly.
Her mother often said, “RJ is a mini-Ryan, with curls, in overalls.”
RJ is a whirlwind of energy; her overalls became a symbol of her adventurous spirit.
She dashes across the ranch, her curls bouncing as she explores every corner with unrelenting curiosity.
The overalls, her favourite attire in a rainbow of colors and materials, grant her the freedom to move unhindered as she chases animals, rides her pony, climbs trees, and tackles chores with an enthusiasm that often creates more work than it completes.
She keeps her mother and me constantly on our toes, filling our days with endless surprises and laughter, but we wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
And I wouldn't change sharing my life and home with Jo. She is a loving and patient momma, with a nurturing spirit that shines through in every moment. Together, we’ve built a beautiful family, creating cherished memories over shared meals, cozy story times, and lively games.
I’ve even passed on my baking skills to RJ, blending tradition with new family rituals. The messes are worth it.
Two years ago, Jo’s brother Norris decided ranch life wasn’t for him.
I took the Northern Velvet Ranch off his hands.
It was a win-win. The Welches wanted family to remain on the land, and I wanted to put down more roots that kept me busy.
Beyond the practicalities, taking over the Northern Velvet Ranch was about preserving a legacy and creating a space where our family could grow and thrive together.
Living on the Northern Velvet Ranch marked a significant transition for Jo, but as I promised when we got married, she can retreat to the apartment above her law office when she needs a break.
Sometimes, our little girl accompanies her, while other times Jo spends a night or two there alone.
Even so, it never feels like Jo and I are truly apart.
We have found a way to enjoy Jo’s breaks.
Our late-night phone calls often turn steamy, keeping our intimate connection strong.
I can’t help but smile when I think of her last ‘break.’
“How was your day?” I asked, my voice softening as I settled into the conversation. It had taken forever to get RJ down for the night.
Jo’s voice was warm and inviting as she spoke, her tone carrying a hint of longing that made my chest tighten. “It was good,” she said, her words soft and measured. “But I miss you, Texas.”
Those words, once rare, now felt like a balm. It had taken us years to reach this point—over two years of marriage before she could admit how much my absence weighed on her.
“I miss you too,” I replied, my voice softening further, a smile tugging at my lips. “Though I have to admit, these late-night calls are becoming a favourite part of my day.”
Her laughter, warm and unbridled, broke through the silence. “Oh, really? I think I know why.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Tell me what you're wearing.”
Her teasing tone dipped even lower as she said, “You know exactly what I'm wearing, and I know what you’re thinking.”
I could almost see the playful glint in her eyes, even though we were miles apart.
“If I were there, I would strip you out of your shorts and spank your bare ass,” I said, the words spilling out with an edge of hunger.
“Then would you kiss it better?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice dropping lower. “Every inch of you.”
There was a moment of silence, charged with anticipation, before she replied, her tone soft and inviting. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“I promise,” I murmured, my voice steady yet filled with desire. “But until then, let me guide you. Close your eyes, imagine my hands on you, and touch yourself like I'm there with you.”
Her breath hitched slightly, and I could feel the connection between us grow stronger, despite the distance.
“Feel my fingers tracing your skin, my lips brushing against you,” I whispered, my voice low and urgent. “Let me take you over the edge.”
Her soft moan echoed in my ear, and I knew she was with me, lost in the moment we created together.
“Picture my hands moving over your body, my lips following every curve. Touch yourself for me. Is my pussy wet?”
“Yes,” Jo answered.
“Perfect, rub your clit,” I instructed her.
“Slip your fingers inside my pussy,” I whispered, my voice dripping with desire. “Stroke into that tightness, like I would if I were there, baby.”
She whimpered. God, she sounded hot, and my imagination surged.
“I’m right here with you,” I whispered, my words wrapping around her like a caress. “Every touch, every shiver, every gasp—it’s all mine.”
“I’m with you, even when I’m not,” I confided, my voice a soft caress.
Her breath grew ragged, and I could almost taste the heat of her desire, the way her skin felt flushed and warm under my touch.
The scent of her arousal seemed to fill the air, even from miles away.
I could hear the soft, slick sounds of her fingers moving in her wet pussy and imagined the way her body arched and tensed as she followed my words.
“Feel me with you,” I instructed. “Every sensation, every shiver—it’s all for me.”
Her moans grew louder, her breath quickening as she followed my guidance. I could almost see her, her body moving in sync with my words, her fingers working in time with my instructions.
“You’re so close,” I encouraged, my voice filled with urgency. “Let go for me, baby. Let me hear you come.”
Her cry echoed in my ear, and I knew she had reached the edge, her body trembling with release.
I could almost feel the warmth of her skin, the soft, radiant heat that seemed to pulse beneath my fingertips.
Jo’s breath caught in a trembling sigh, a delicate gasp that lingered in the air as she came undone, her body surrendering to the moment.
“I wish I were there with you,” I murmured, my voice soft and steady. “I love the way you look right after you come.”
Her breath slowed, and I could hear the contentment in her voice as she said, “I wish you were here, too.”
I smiled, my own desire still burning, but satisfied in knowing that, even from miles away, we could still feel each other so deeply.
“Go get some sleep, Sunshine.”
"I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promised, her voice warm and sleepy.
The steamy memory sent a surge of heat through me, making my body tense with longing.
My skin prickled, and my pulse quickened, as if my body itself was protesting the distance.
The situation was more difficult since I was on my way out of the country.
My connecting flight to South Dakota was delayed, which would prolong my time away.
I didn't want to be away from her longer than I had to, especially when, on this trip, Jo and I wouldn’t have the opportunity to share in our intimate calls that kept us connected when we were apart.
The faint scent of her perfume lingered in my mind, and the warmth of her touch haunted my fingertips.
The dull hum of the airport seemed to amplify the ache in my chest, as every passing moment stretched into eternity.
When I planned this trip to Silver Creek, I felt I had to go away to set my mind right.
The weight of my past haunted me, but I knew I couldn’t let it consume me.
I needed to find a way to confront it, to seek solace in the familiar before things spiralled out of control again.
The last time those intrusive shadows disrupted my life was when I disappeared for those four months before I found out about Jo’s pregnancy.
The terrors of my time as a Ranger had begun to invade my thoughts again, seeping into my nights like a cold, creeping fog.
I’d leave Jo in our bed and escape to our porch, the wooden planks rough beneath my bare feet, the air heavy with the earthy scent of the land.
My rifle rested in my lap, a familiar weight that brought little comfort.
Other times, when I remained in our bed, I’d wake suddenly, my heart pounding, the sheets damp with cold sweat, the shadows of my darkest hours clinging to me like a second skin.
Jo had never asked me about those months.
The seven days that changed my life played on repeat in my mind, vivid and unrelenting, even as I readied myself to plan a future.
Part of me was glad she hadn’t, relieved to avoid the shame of recounting how I’d wallowed in the past. Yet, another part of me longed for our connection to be deeper, to unburden my fears to her, to feel the warmth of her understanding.
The longer I sat in the airport, the more I realized that returning to Silver Creek wasn’t the right choice at least not before I spoke to Jo.
Beneath the surface of our beautiful life were the things left unsaid, and I couldn’t keep ignoring them.
I didn’t normally make rash decisions, but when I got up and booked a flight back home, I knew it was the right call.
Going to Silver Creek for help felt like slapping a Band-Aid on a gushing wound.
I needed to go home to Jo—not only to share our past but also to stop walking on eggshells, which kept our life from having the depth it deserved.