26. 26 #2
Sliding my wet hair from my neck, Hayes places gentle kisses and caresses from my jawbone down to my shoulder.
We rushed our shower sex, but Hayes is taking his time with my aftercare.
He grabs the body wash and squirts it onto his hands, rubbing them together to create suds, before he smooths and lathers my body.
His hands roam freely, touching and caressing every crevice, as I lean against him.
Once my body is clean, he works shampoo through my hair, gently scratching and massaging my scalp before rinsing and combing the conditioner into my locks.
“Careful, Hayes. I could get used to this kind of spoiling.”
Nibbling my earlobe, Hayes replies, his rumbling voice setting off a shiver that rolls down my back, “Get used to it, Yankee.”
Turning off the water, he wraps a towel around me before securing his own. Kissing me on the cheek, he admonishes me to hurry, since the girls will be up soon.
We miscalculated our timing. Apparently, the country air makes for a good sleep aid for little girls because neither Grace nor Claire awoke until well after I finished my third cup of coffee. By the time they stumble into the kitchen, I’m already rolling out my second batch of Christmas cookies.
“We’re making Christmas cookies?” Grace asks excitedly. “I thought you said we couldn’t do that this year.”
With the house on the market, we couldn’t. The girls make an unholy mess when we bake, and I promised Marsha that I’d keep the house pristine to accommodate last-minute showings.
But Hayes has given me free rein to destroy the ranch house’s kitchen, so I plan on spending the day baking up a storm. I expect the girls will join me until they get bored and want to go visit the barn animals again or go for another horseback ride.
“Hayes has given us permission to use his kitchen for our Christmas cookies this year,” I say as I pull out the box of cookie cutters I brought with me from home.
The back door swings open, and Hayes walks in, sweaty, already in need of a second shower.
He spent the last half-hour splitting logs for firewood.
I only know because I spent the last half-hour watching him from the window.
Within the first few minutes, he’d stripped off his jacket, and a few minutes after that, he lost his shirt too.
God, the way his arm and back muscles rippled with each swing of the ax.
I feel my nipples pucker just remembering how hot he looked.
Lumberjack kink unlocked.
Wearing only his cowboy hat, jeans and boots, he carries his discarded clothing in his hand, and I stare at his half-naked body unabashedly.
There was a time not long ago that the idea of a cowboy didn’t do it for me, but now, I can’t imagine anyone doing it for me except the sweaty cowboy staring at me from across the room .
When Hayes smirks, lifting a brow in my direction, I shake myself from my reverie. He mouths I love you over the girls’ heads, and my heart sings.
I’m toast. There’s no way we can hide our feelings for long.
Claire, still clad in her red and green striped Christmas pajamas and somehow already covered in flour, bounds over to Hayes, throwing her arms around his waist. “Thanks, Wusty!”
“For what, baby girl?” He returns Claire’s hug and smiles at Grace. “Morning, Gertie.” Grace rolls her eyes and ducks her head to hide her smile. She pretends to hate the nickname, but I think it makes her feel special.
“For letting us make our Christmas cookies, Wusty! Without them, we wouldn’t have anything to feed Santa.”
“Well, it’ll cost you, Claire.” Displeased, she scrunches her nose as Hayes bends down to her level, whispering conspiratorially, “I’ll need a few cookies as payment.”
Claire laughs. “You’re silly! We always make lots of extras for us to eat, too! Will you help decorate them with me?”
Ruffling her hair, Hayes drops a kiss on her head. “Of course.”
He makes it look so easy. Effortless. Natural. The way he interacts with them, showing them affection… Once, I would’ve said it took diamonds and dinners to win my heart. But Hayes changed everything. Because nothing moves me more than watching him love my daughters.
Standing, Hayes looks at me. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” My eyes flare as his lips twitch, both of us remembering our salacious shower from earlier this morning.
The girls and I spent the rest of the morning baking, snacking, and decorating cookies. Hayes joins us after his shower—taking part mostly in the snacking—but then he gets called away to finish some ranch chores with Pete, one of the ranch’s caretakers.
“Do we have to leave tomorrow?” Grace asks as we dry and put away the dishes we used.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and the plan is to head home after lunch. Josh, James, Rowdy, and Rowdy’s wife, Bailey, are coming here to spend Christmas at the ranch. Hayes really wants us to meet, so Grace, Claire, and I will stay for lunch before driving back to Nashville.
I tilt my head. “I thought you wanted to spend one last Christmas in our house before we move?”
“I did, but… it’s not the same, you know.” Her little brows knit together. “Without Dad.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I tug her in for a hug. “No, it’s not the same, Grace."
She pulls away, with a somber expression on her face. “It’s never gonna be the same, Mom. So maybe it’s time to make some new traditions?”
“I’m open to that idea. What kind of new traditions?”
“Like spending Christmas here. At the ranch. With Hayes.”
For a second, I'm silent, caught off-guard. Finally, I say, “I like that idea, too, Grace."
"It's just that… Hayes is nice to you, Mom. He's nice to all of us."
My oldest daughter's words pierce my duct-taped heart.
While I know how intelligent Grace is, I didn't realize the depth of what she understood of my relationship with her father.
It wasn't that Kyle was mean to me or the girls.
He just rarely showed up for us. But Hayes does.
Hayes shows each of us that we're important to him. He makes us feel valued .
"Hayes is nice, isn't he?" I murmur, combing my fingers through Grace's hair.
Grace nods with a small smile.
Rubbing her back, I let her down as easily as possible.
"It’s too late for us to spend Christmas at the ranch with Hayes this year.
Our presents are back at the house, and we’re supposed to go over to Aunt Laura’s house to have Christmas dinner with her and her family.
What if we talk to Hayes about coming back to the ranch again soon? ”
Grace shrugs, looking a little glum. Seven-year-olds don’t typically appreciate delayed gratification. “Okay. I guess that could work, Mom.”
Tipping her chin up, I say, “I love you, Grace. So much.”
“Love you, too.”
“I’ll finish these dishes. You and your sister put your coats on and head down to the barn. Hayes and Pete said they could use your help feeding the animals.”
Grace scampers off, her face brightening at the mention of the animals.
And I breathe. Maybe for the first time since Kyle died, I take a full, deep inhalation. My lungs contract and expand.
No, our lives will never be the same.
But I feel an optimism within my soul that wasn't there before.