32. Daisy
thirty-two
Daisy
My bedroom is lit by the pearly glow of the predawn sky, but I’m already awake and riding… my boyfriend’s truly spectacular mustache.
Beneath me, Beau moans and squeezes my ass as I grind into his mouth, slippery and swollen, on the verge of another explosive orgasm. I arch my back and latch onto his arms, clawing the muscle as pleasure floods me.
I collapse beside him as all feel-good chemicals leave me soft and happy. Beau rolls onto his side, props himself up on one elbow, and grins down at me.
“Admit it,” he says.
I sigh and stretch with satisfaction. “Admit what?”
“You like the mustache. All this time, pretending you hate it when you were dreaming about riding it until you came all over it.”
“You think the ride is worth my having to look at that thing on your lip all day?” I twist my fingers into his hair hard enough to bite. “You’re so cocky, do you know that?”
Beau grins harder. “By the way you just screamed my name, Darlin’, I’ve got good reason to be.”
I try not to smile. “Well, I can’t confirm your theory until I’ve collected more evidence.”
“And I’m only too happy to provide it.”
He nuzzles into the crook of my neck, kissing every inch of skin he can reach, and I sigh with replete exhaustion. We’ve only slept two or three hours, too busy making the most of our alone time. Finally.
I reach a hand between us, searching for the hard length of his erection, and when my fingers wrap around it, he moans torturedly.
“We can’t,” he says, even with a thrust into my palm. “I want to be at the house before Ollie wakes.”
“Poppy will call if she needs us,” I murmur as I nibble his earlobe. “Just a few more minutes.”
“You’re insatiable.” He flips me onto my back and opens my thighs with a nudge of his hips.
I inhale sharply as the tip of him slips inside. We’ve had so much sex that I’m a little sore, but the sting is worth it when I’ve gone without for too long.
“I’m out of rubbers,” Beau says as he teases me with barely an inch of his cock.
“Just a little more.” I grab his ass and try to drive him home, but his strength keeps him hovering out of reach. “A few quick minutes. It won’t take long. I promise.”
When he still doesn’t budge, I bite my lip and flutter my eyelashes. “Please, sweetheart?”
His eyes roll back as he groans, and then he’s fucking me hard. The feel of him bare is beautiful and familiar, and he bottoms out before grinding down on my clit. The moment I come, pussy pulsing around him, he pulls out with a burdened cry and spills his release over my stomach.
Now it’s his turn to fall onto the mattress. He collapses face down on the pillow, his tight ass right there, begging to be bitten.
“That was way too risky,” he mutters as he rolls to face me.
“My period is due in a few days. We’re way outside the fertility window.”
He sits up, brow furrowed. “Have you been taking the magnesium supplements I bought you? Drinking enough water?”
“You know what? I think sex is a good way to prevent migraines. All the endorphins or oxytocin or whatever. I’ll be okay this month.”
“Nice way to not answer my questions,” he grumbles as he plucks tissues from the bedside table and wipes his mess from my skin.
I roll my eyes. “I’m taking care of myself; and I’ve started birth control again to help with the hormones. But you’re right about one thing. We should get moving, or we’ll miss family breakfast.”
His brows draw in. “There’s a breakfast?”
“Just pancakes at the house. Nothing special.”
“I’ve got no clothes.”
“Oh. Right. Well, let’s hurry so we can go past your place for something to wear.”
It still takes forty-five minutes to shower, pick up a change of clothes for Beau and for Ollie, then drive round to the main house. Beau pulls his truck up around back, and we let ourselves in through the kitchen.
The place is already buzzing. Dylan and Poppy are in the kitchen. Chord, Violet, Finn, and Rosie are seated with the kids around the table. Music plays from Mom’s old radio on the windowsill, and the house smells like coffee and sugar and bacon.
“Uncle Beau!” Ollie jumps up from his stack of syrupy pancakes and skids to a halt in front of us. “You’ve got to try these. They’re so yummy.”
“Good thing I’m starving,” Beau says.
“I bet you are,” Poppy quips.
Finn groans like he wishes he hadn’t heard that, and Beau chokes on nothing, thumping his chest to clear it. Poppy and I chuckle as I pull her in for a hug.
“Thanks for last night,” I say. “It was so worth it.”
“And your brothers don’t need to hear about it.” Dylan gently hip-checks his wife as he hands Beau and me a couple of plates loaded with pancakes. “Take a seat, you two. I’ll pour you some coffee.” He catches Beau’s eye. “How do you like it, bro?”
Beau blinks but recovers quickly. “Strong and hot?”
Dylan swipes up a mug. “You got it.”
There’s an empty seat next to Ollie, which Beau slides onto, and I set down my plate at an open chair opposite. Violet is on one side, and I hug her to say good morning. Rosie, at the other end of the table, gets a kiss blown across the way.
“Hey,” I say, scanning the faces around the table again. “Where’s Charlie?”
“I’m in here!” she calls from the living room.
“Being anti-social!” Finn shouts back.
“Just five more minutes!”
Finn huffs. “You said that fifteen minutes ago!”
I snatch a slice of melon off a giant fruit platter, then gratefully accept a cup of coffee from Poppy. “I’ll be back in a second,” I say to Beau. “Will you be all right?”
“He’ll be fine,” Chord says.
Beau looks at my brother a little cautiously, then lifts a brow at me. “You heard him. I’ll be fine.”
I can’t keep the relief and joy off my face. “Have fun!”
I wind my way through people and chairs to get to the living room, where Charlie’s hunched over her laptop, the kids’ pillows and blankets in piles around her.
I drop down beside her and offer her my cup. “What’s so important it can’t wait until tomorrow?”
She takes a gulp of coffee and hands it back. “It’s just business stuff. You know how it is. It never ends, and if I don’t do a little something every morning to stay on top of it, my to-do list gets away from me. I can’t relax until I’ve cleared my inbox, at least.”
“Business administration is relentless,” I agree.
She snorts. “I told you. If you need advice on how to manage things, let me know. We can set up a session to go over things next week.”
“Well, about that…”
Charlie pauses mid-keystroke, then turns her head slowly, her confusion disappearing as understanding dawns. “Oh, no. No, no, no. You’re not quitting on me already.”
“I don’t want to quit,” I tell her. “I want to reorganize.”
“Reorganize?” She straightens a little, her tone sounding annoyed. “Reorganize what?”
“Stable operations. The trail rides. Our tourism portfolio.”
“Our tourism portfolio.” She stares in puzzlement for a long moment, like she’s trying to figure out who I am.
“What are you talking about? You promised me you’d stick with this.
I’ve refocused this summer. I’ve made plans to put Silver Leaf on the map.
Plans that’ll finally let me use the college degree that’s been gathering dust. I don’t have the time to pick up your slack. ”
“But you wouldn’t have to. That’s what’s so great. I’ve already worked it all out.”
Charlie shifts toward me and crosses her arms. “What have you figured out exactly?”
Her attitude isn’t enough to deter me, even with my stomach twisting the way it is.
I knew she’d react badly, which is why I picked this morning to broach the subject.
At first, I thought it made sense to pitch it like a business proposal, the way I did at the start of summer, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt it should go to a family vote after all.
It’s what we did for Violet’s design studio, and Poppy’s beauty salon, and the renovations for Finn and Rosie’s cabin.
What I want for my future isn’t strictly a business decision, it’s a family one.
What happens next shouldn’t be up to Charlie alone.
“Well, you know we always talked about glamping?” I ask.
Charlie hums and narrows her eyes. I take it as encouragement.
“Right,” I say. “Glamping. Overnight camping tours. Expanded trail rides. That’s what I want to do for Silver Leaf.
That’s how I want to make this place stand out.
You were right, Charlie. I’m no good at the paperwork.
I hate the administrative work. I’m suited to being out in the air and under the stars. ”
Charlie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. “And who would run everything, Daze? How do I let you ride horses all day and still get the bills paid?”
“Beau would do it.”
Her brows shoot upward. “Beau?”
“He’s got the skills and the experience. He loves it here, and so does Ollie. Beau would be our new stable and operations manager.”
Charlie stares at me, her face so unreadable that the knots in my stomach become impossible to ignore.
“Say something,” I say.
Her blue eyes harden. “Two months ago, the guy walked onto this ranch and you wanted to toss him right out again. You hated him. He has a job to go to in Kismet Creek in less than two weeks, and now you want to make him our stable manager?”
“I was wrong about Beau,” I explain, “and we’ve fixed it now. Everything’s okay.”
“So you were wrong about Beau.” She tosses her head. “Then you were wrong about managing the stable yourself. What makes you think you’re not wrong about this? The overnight rides and the glamping tours and putting Beau in charge of one of our most important tourist attractions?”
My spine straightens, and my blood rushes with indignation. “I’m not wrong. I can feel it.”
“Ah.” Her answering nod is overstated to the point of offensive. “You can feel it.”