Chapter 38 #2
“Suck.” His voice is deep, husky, laced with lust.
I flick my tongue out, wetting my lips before tipping my head forward and sucking my arousal off his finger.
I moan around his digits as he pushes them deeper into my mouth.
Our gazes lock, his hooded, aroused eyes meeting mine as I twirl my tongue around him.
He presses down on the back of my tongue, and I gag a little before he retreats. The act is dirty, erotic, us.
Too soon, he’s slipping his fingers free, and I’m sliding off the counter, ready to drop to my knees and worship the man before me.
“Let’s eat.” He turns toward the stove. “It should still be somewhat warm.”
I adjust my robe, tucking my exposed breasts behind the silk as I tie the closing. “I’ll eat cold food for the rest of my life if my mornings start like that.”
“Me, too.”
After breakfast, Jett pulls on a shirt and his baseball cap, looking more like himself again. I lust over the look of him in his Riggsby Cattle cap. If he flips it backwards, I will combust.
He cups my face, pressing his forehead to mine.
“Call if you need anything,” he says as he presses a kiss to my lips.
“I will.”
“I mean it, Wren.”
I smile, nodding. “I know you will, and I will.”
He hesitates, like if he walks out the door, he’ll never see me again. But I’m not leaving. Not again.
“Hey, Jett.”
His shoulders slacken in relief, as if he was waiting for a reason to stay.
“I love you.”
His lips twitch. “Love you, too, Whiskey.”
“Now go to work. The cows aren’t going to feed themselves.”
He grumbles, but pushes through the front door.
I adjust my robe before tucking loose strands behind my ear. Grabbing the coffeepot, I step outside and move to the patrol car waiting in my driveway. I’m aware I’m completely bare beneath my robe, but the officer on babysitting duty deserves coffee. Especially if he heard our morning activities.
Officer Ryan rolls down his window. “Morning, Wren.”
“Morning. Brought you some coffee.”
Ryan gives me a grateful nod, offering his travel mug through the open window. With an arm across my chest, securing my robe, I pour the coffee.
“Quiet night?”
He nods. “Bruggeman said everything was good. What’s your day look like?”
“I’ll be home most of the day. Catching up on laundry and cleaning.” Heat crawls up my neck at the reminder of why my kitchen counters need scrubbing. “Then, I’m meeting the contractor at the barn on the west end of the property.”
He nods. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
“Feel free to come in for coffee or bathroom breaks.”
Inside, I clean like I’m trying to scrub the last few weeks away. Never underestimate the power of a good stress-cleaning session. The weight of the last few weeks threatens to crumble me, but I keep fighting. I didn’t make it this far to let Elias ruin what I’ve started rebuilding.
With a glance at my watch, I toss the rag in the washer, gathering up my bag with my notebook and heading to my meeting.
I let out a deep whistle as I glance around the old barn that’s looking more alive than it has in decades. Sunlight pours through the open doors as dust motes and sawdust float in a majestic dance.
“You’ve been busy.”
Tom’s head jerks from where he’s staring at a stack of papers.
“This barn has been taken care of well. Makes my job easier.”
I trail my fingers along one of the exposed beams, the wood smooth from decades of wear.
I can almost picture my mom leading the charge on the remodel.
Worn leather boots caked in mud from her garden.
Dad’s flannel shirt hanging loosely off her shoulders.
A sun hat perched on her head while she jotted down detailed notes in one of her many notebooks.
But instead of my mom, I’m the one seeing through to her dream.
In a way, it’s freeing. It’s showing me a side of myself I didn’t know existed. I feel closer to her than I have in a long time.
Tom walks me through it all again, slower this time since the barn has been cleared and roughed out for new walls.
The plumbing has been updated to allow for new bathrooms. Separate bathrooms for males and females with multiple stalls, with one being ADA-compliant. Concrete is scheduled to be poured by the end of the week.
Electrical has been installed, running along the beams for the new lighting.
“Everything’s moving fast.”
Tom nods. “I’ve got most of my men on the project.” He knocks on a beam. “Knock on wood, we’ll have this barn done sooner than anticipated.”
My stomach twists at how quickly everything is falling into place.
My mind starts spinning with all the things I need to be doing now, like creating a social media account to document the remodel and ads to promote the new event hall.
Social media scares the hell out of me. I haven’t touched mine since I left LA.
The show has interns who help run our accounts, and I assume she’s been posting in my absence, keeping my disappearance under wraps.
The social media account is essential for getting the word out about the venue.
In a small town, halls are few and far between, which means this will be a hot commodity.
We continue to go over the details of the remodel and the timeline when everything will take place. Tom wasn’t kidding when he said this place will be done in no time.
“There’s one thing I need your approval on,” he says, pulling out samples from a bag.
I move closer, gaze trailing over each flooring sample that he pulls out of a bag. Reclaimed wood, polished concrete, and porcelain tile resembling wood. They’re all great options, but my eyes widen at the oak-inspired luxury vinyl plank.
I reach for the sample, fingers running over the grooves. “This one.”
“I thought you might pick that.”
“I love the polished concrete, but this is what I envision.”
Tom jots the selection down in his notepad. “We’ll get it ordered.”
He begins packing up as I spin around the space, taking it all in. It feels surreal that this is my life. A year ago, I was on a reality show, attending red carpet events and dining at LA’s finest restaurants. Selling houses to millionaires while harboring dark secrets and living in fear.
Now I’m chasing a new dream. Living in my hometown and loving the boy who broke my heart…While the threat of my ex hangs in the balance.
At least things have been quiet since the babysitting began. No more unexplained open doors and windows or items left on my front porch.
I’m not naive enough to believe it was a coincidence and he’s going to disappear. No, he’s waiting.
Lurking, like the monster he is.
But this time, he won’t land a punch. He won’t silence me.
Not this time.
This time, I have something to fight for.
“I’ll be in touch,” Tom says, bringing me back to the present. “Feel free to check in whenever you’re around.”
I extend my hand for a shake. “Thanks, Tom.”
A familiar whistle sounds from the front entrance. Tom and I share a chuckle at the same response I had upon entering the barn.
“Hard to believe this is the same barn,” Dad says as he steps deeper inside.
“Your daughter has quite the eye. If event planning doesn’t work out, we could use her at the firm.”
“Nonsense, Tommy. I just got my girl back.”
The two share a handshake and pleasantries as I watch. With a dip of his hat, Tom turns back to his crew, who are busy installing new floor joists.
“Have time to talk to your old man?”
The corners of my lips twitch. “Always.”
Dad swings a strong arm across my shoulders as he guides me out of the barn and away from prying ears. My pulse begins to hammer as my palms dampen in anticipation of what’s to come.
Each stride is intentional as we move closer to his truck. I catch the worry etched into the unfamiliar lines of his face. I’ve noticed the changes—new lines and wrinkles. He’s looking older lately, more worn with grief and worry. And I know if I tell him my entire truth, he’ll worry more.
“How’re things going, daughter of mine?”
“Fine,” I say quickly. Too quickly, because my dad’s side-glance has me ducking under his stare.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Wren. I saw the cruiser when I pulled in.”
I nibble on my lip. “Like Nate said, I have a babysitter. It’s a precaution, but I feel safer knowing I have another set of eyes watching over me.”
“I wish you would’ve told me.”
“I know, Dad. I’ve been trying to find the strength to tell you since I came home, but it’s not an easy subject to talk about. I never thought I’d be in a situation with a partner who abused me, but it found me. I feel so stupid.”
“Wren,” Dad says sternly. “You are far from stupid. He manipulated you. Used your mind against you. That’s not your fault.”
I sniffle and force a nod.
Growing up, I was always a daddy’s girl.
I could never do wrong in his eyes. Whenever I needed something, he’s who I went to.
It caused a lot of tension between my parents, but Dad always had trouble telling me no.
I can count on one hand how many times he raised his voice toward me, but hearing the hurt in his tone now is heartbreaking.
It kills me to know I’ve hurt the people I loved while trying to protect them from the truth.
“I’m safe,” I settle on, tipping my head toward Officer Ryan. “They’re making sure I stay that way.”
His jaw clenches. “Your room at the house is always available.”
My lips curve. “I’m good, Dad, but thank you.”
We stand in silence for a moment, the barn looming behind us and acres of farmland spilling around us.
Land my family has poured their blood, sweat, and tears into.
Heat blooms in my chest at the awareness I’ll be adding to the family legacy.
Not by planting and harvesting crops, but by restoring a part of our history and sharing it with our community.
The barn on Drummond Farms is my legacy.
“Dad…”
This conversation has been one I’ve avoided, but I don’t see a better time than now to rip off the Band-Aid.
“I-I need to talk to you about something.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the bed of his truck. With his attention locked on mine, he waits.
I suck in a deep breath and blurt out, “I don’t want to run Hannah’s Haven.”
He doesn’t react except for widening his eyes. It doesn’t feel like anger or disappointment, but more like shock. Surprise.
“I know Mom loved it,” I rush out. “And I love that she loved it, and I’ve loved stepping in for the season, which I’ll see through. But I don’t think it’s my dream.” I spin around, arms outstretched as I look at the barn. “This is my dream.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, and worry settles in my bones.
“Planning events. Making something out of nothing. Being a part of someone’s special moments. That’s my dream.”
I risk a glance over my shoulder and find his eyes already on mine. There’s a sheen over familiar brown eyes. When I think he’s going to protest my decision, he steps forward and wraps his arms around me. His hug smells like earth and musk…and his Old Spice deodorant.
“Your mom always said you had bigger ideas than this land. As much as she missed you, you made her proud. I imagine she’s over the moon excited to hear you’ve found a way to leave your legacy on our farm.”
My eyes sting with unshed tears.
“You’re not disappointed?”
He chuckles. “I could never be disappointed in you.”
I cling to him for a second longer than I mean to. I didn’t realize how much weight I’d been carrying over the decision to back away from Mom’s farm. I thought I’d feel guilty, but I only feel relief.
“I love you, Wren. Your mother and I have only ever wanted to see you happy.”
I sniffle away the pressure in my nose. “I’m happy, Dad.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Glad to hear it, Pumpkin.”