24. The Man Is a Machine with One Setting—Pleasure
THE MAN IS A MACHINE WITH ONE SETTING—PLEASURE
WILLA
I wake with the sun in the wrong place in the sky, everything on me hurting from head to waist. The bed is empty. There’s a mug of coffee on the nightstand, but it’s long-since cold.
I manage to get out of bed, but the trip to the bathroom is a fiasco. An electric toothbrush saves me from tears. I can’t manage a bra, so a sweatshirt will have to do. After wrestling with it like a hungry octopus, I’m sweating, breathing heavily, and have a headache.
I head downstairs to an empty house, but the coffeepot is still warm and I manage to make only a little mess as I pour myself a cup.
I’d curse my situation but would rather not focus on the pain and swelling stopping most of my ability to do…
well, anything. I slide my feet into the men’s boots inside the back door and clomp out onto the porch to head to the barn.
Pop is there, rocking, empty coffee cup in his hand.
“May I?”
“Wish you would,” he replies.
I sit, arranging my shorts and some men’s boots while I shimmy into the chair, trying not to tap anything that hurts.
“You ran away and you didn’t say a word.” He’s staring in the direction of the ranch gates, down the dusty drive.
I take a sip of coffee, wishing this was a gentle, how-are-you-doing conversation and not what I think it will become.
“Scared me. Scared Brax and Bright. Wouldn’t answer your phone. Exton was... Well, Exton has this ability to lock down emotions when they won’t serve him. But I know my boy. He was panicked.”
He pauses and I take another sip, because so far this conversation doesn’t require my input.
“Know what I could do to console him? Nothing. Just had to tell him you tore out of here like your ass was on fire and didn’t bother to clue us in.”
“Pop—”
“Don’t you ‘Pop’ me.” That one stings.
“Kimpton—”
“Don’t you dare do that either.”
I take another sip, knowing it’s useless to walk away. Kimpton is wise and when he says something, it’s worth hearing, so I take it.
“Watching my son in love is fantastic.”
My cup halts on the way to my mouth.
“Watching the woman my son loves bolt twisted a knife in my gut. You’re a part of this family now, Willa. That’s just the way it is. We talk. We fight. We work shit out. We rely on each other. Don’t ever scare us like that again.”
Through all of this, his eyes never leave the drive.
I nod and take another long sip of coffee, forcing it over the lump blocking my throat. I can’t speak because it’s perched there, blocking everything but the tears that want to form. I take a moment and, when it recedes, I say, “Love you too, Pop. Didn’t mean to worry you.”
He nods too, and heads for the front door, dropping a kiss on the top of my head as he passes. “Glad you’re here.”
Watching my son in love is fantastic.
Could this be love? It’s too soon. People don’t fall in love this fast. Granted, we pressed the fast forward button on everything from the moment we met, but can you love someone in under a week? The idea of someone, sure. The reality of someone… I just don’t know.
Exton is more than I ever dreamed. Funny, kind, present.
He’s also intense and controlled, yet lets his anger fly.
I don’t like that last one and won’t take him spewing it on me.
But the rest of him—the intelligent, giving, caring, loving part—is worth it.
And the sex? I fan myself as my face flushes.
Good Lord, the man is a machine with one setting—pleasure.
“You warm?” the man in question asks.
“It’s the sweatshirt.”
“Liar.” His eyes look to the chair and lift in question.
“It’s open. Pop left a few minutes ago.”
“Was he sweet and worried or pissed and lecturey?”
“The second one.”
“Ah.”
“Where’d you go this morning?”
“To the barn. Checked in on Marron. Brushed her down and gave her some treats. She calms me, helps me think.”
I don’t ask why he needed that this morning. It’s obvious… And, honestly, I don’t want to talk about it. The last twenty-four hours have been too much.
“Willa?”
“Exton.”
“Come with me to D.C.”
“What?!”
“Come with me to D.C.” This time there’s less question and hope in his statement than the first time. This time he’s more resolved.
“But I…”
“But you what?”
“I have a home here. My life is here. My business is here.”
“You have a home in D.C. too. Your life could be there, and you will have clientele anywhere you set up shop because of your talent.”
“I… I’ve never lived anywhere outside of Texas.”
His head turns to mine and holds my eyes.
“Come with me, Willa. Let’s make a life together.”
“You don’t know me, Exton. I don’t wake up all sweet when I don’t have a head injury. I’m grouchy and mumble a lot, and I swear at the coffeepot. I keep odd hours and get caught up in things that most find annoying. And—”
“There’s art there. Galleries upon galleries. There’s football, culture, and food. There’s crappy traffic, but an amazing city. And I’m there. I don’t care if you swear at our coffeepot and I already know you mumble. Your hours aren’t a thing. What else?”
“Are you going to counter every argument?”
His grin widens farther. “Yep.”
“What about my house?”
“Austin is one of the hottest markets in the country. Rent it out. You’ll double your mortgage. Or do a short-term rental for tourists. You’ll quadruple your mortgage.”
I drop my eyes and whisper. “What if we don’t work out?”
A finger lifts my chin.
“Do you have doubts, dragon slayer?”
I nod.
“About me?” His eyes are vulnerable.
I shake my head.
“Then about what?” The light dawns. “Oh.”
He holds my gaze before taking my mug from my hand, setting it on the rail, and walking me—in my too-big boots—down the stairs and toward the barn. He stops where we got into that knock-down, drag-out before my come-to-Jesus conversation with Brighton.
He places his hands on my waist, his warm hand riding under the sweatshirt and tee to rest on Kulshedra. He dips to look me eye to eye and rocks my world.
“You, Willa Jayne, are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.
You’re open, humble, and generous. You’re honest and funny and giving.
I fell for you when you showed me your dragon for the first time.
The trust you gave me? Baby, I know what that took.
And you gave it. I won’t ever betray it or you.
You challenge me to be a better man. Fuck. You just flat-out challenge me.”
He smiles.
“You’re sexy as fuck and make me want to never leave our bed. Never had a woman—never known a woman—I cared to know better. Until I met you. I want to know what makes you laugh, what pisses you off, and what sets your soul on fire. I want to protect you and love you and make you come.”
“I see a theme,” I cut in.
He takes my mouth, ravenous, taking and taking, pulling my body to his hard one. His warm cock rests at my belly.
“Will we never fight? Doubtful. Will you piss me off? Sure. Will I piss you off? Inevitably. Will I ever be unkind or cruel? Never. Baby, I know you can slay your own dragons, but I don’t want you to have to do that alone.”
I gasp and hold his eyes. I smile and nod and start to say “yes” when he speaks again.
“Come with me.”
“Okay,” I say.
He falls on my mouth again before whispering in my ear, “You’ve made my day, baby. You won’t regret it. We’ll make an amazing life together.”