7. Grady
Grady
Chapter 7
This time, when I woke on Sunday morning before my alarm, something was different. I felt it right away. The mattress dipped to my right, and a tangle of silky blonde hair tumbled over my arm. The scent of honeysuckle perfume lingered heady and sweet in the air.
A thin sliver of moonlight slipped through the curtains, casting Birdie’s sleeping figure beside me in a faint glow. The sheets had pooled around her waist, leaving her shoulder and back bare.
I smiled to myself as I recalled last night. Having sloppy, messy sex in the barn, too eager to wait until we got into the house. Stumbling into my bedroom, laughing between one kiss and the next as we tripped over each other.
I rolled over, curling my body around Birdie. Her curves fit so perfectly against me. Now that the Harvest Festival was over, life would return to normal. I was looking forward to inviting Birdie over without festival planning to get in the way.
I skimmed my hand over her hip, savoring the dip of her waist as I moved higher. Birdie shifted in her sleep with a sigh.
“What time is it?” she mumbled.
“Early. You don’t have to wake up yet.”
She wiggled back against me, tugging my arm tighter around her like I was her human blanket.
“You’re so warm,” she murmured. “And your wandering hands suggest you have no intention of sleeping.”
“As tempting as it is to go another round, I’m not as young as I used to be. I need a little more recovery time.”
I ghosted my lips over her shoulder and along her neck, nuzzling into her hair. Birdie made a happy little noise of contentment.
“You’re a smart man. Put your other resources to good use.”
I cupped her breast, loving the way she filled my hand so well.
“Was that an order?”
She breathed a tired laugh.
“Get to work, mister.”
I shifted over her, pushing the sheets aside to expose her fully. In the dim light of the room, I could only make out a few swells and curves but that was more than enough. I didn’t need to see her right now. I needed to taste her.
When I wedged my shoulders between Birdie’s thighs, the scent of her arousal made a growl rumble in my chest. I hooked my hands behind her knees and tugged her closer. She squeaked in surprise, covering her mouth with both hands to stifle a giggle.
I sucked a bruising kiss into her silky, soft thigh. By now, Birdie was fully awake, combing her fingers lightly through my hair. I felt her twitch and inhale a sharp breath when my stubble rasped along the junction of her hip.
Then I closed my mouth around her clit. Birdie pressed her head back into the pillow.
“Grady.”
Strangled with pleasure. Fighting to stay quiet.
As soon as Avery was back at college and the house was empty again, I would have Birdie entirely at my mercy. The bunkhouse was far enough away that my hired hands wouldn’t hear anything. I wanted her to be loud. I wanted her hoarse and so satisfied that she could barely string a sentence together.
In the dim room, every touch, taste, and sensation was heightened ten-fold. My fingertips sank into the cushion of Birdie’s hips. Her thighs flexed around my head. I dragged my tongue through her sweet folds, working my jaw into her until she was so sensitive that she was whining with need.
When I curled two fingers inside her, Birdie arched off the bed, grinding against my face. A switch flicked in my brain, primal, feral. Crooking my fingers knuckle-deep and pressing upward, I sucked on her clit hard.
Birdie swore. Her thighs locked tight. She scrabbled at my shoulders, fingernails leaving stinging red welts as she shattered.
When she came down, I smoothed my hands over every inch of her, caressing her hips, her stomach, her breasts. I might not be able to summon the stamina I had when I was a 20-something young buck, but my appetite for her still burned like a raging wildfire—insatiable, unstoppable.
Little aftershocks twitched through Birdie’s body. I gave her pussy a few more teasing licks to soothe her before I wiped her slick from my chin and crawled up beside her.
“I had no idea you could be that resourceful,” she said, panting.
“You should see what I can do after I’ve had my morning coffee.”
Birdie laughed softly and burrowed into my chest.
“I might have to wave the white flag of surrender.”
I didn’t remember drifting off to sleep, with Birdie curled up in my arms, and her head tucked under my chin. I’d forgotten what it was like to share a bed with someone, how comforting it was to feel their body heat and listen to the rhythm of their breathing.
When I opened my eyes again, a stream of golden sunlight filtered through a crack in the curtains. I glanced at my clock. 8:45am.
Fuck. I’d slept through my alarm.
Easing out of bed, trying not to wake Birdie, I grabbed my jeans and tugged them on. I scooped up a shirt from a nearby chair and pulled them on, too. Four hours behind my regular routine felt strange, like I was racing to catch up.
I turned the door knob as quietly as I could, but Birdie stirred anyway.
“If anyone should be sneaking out, it’s supposed to be me. This is your bed.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you,” I replied.
When she rolled over, the sheets fell away to expose her bare hip and thigh. My self-control almost caved in.
“I’ll get us some coffee and something to eat,” I added. “Stay there.”
Birdie snuggled into my pillow until her tousled blonde hair was the only thing visible from the cloud of rumpled sheets. Tearing myself away from her, I stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door.
As soon as I reached the kitchen, I found Avery seated at the table with a cup of coffee and a bagel, pouring over a textbook while taking notes. She was still in her pajamas with her hair up in a messy ponytail. She blinked up at me in surprise.
“Dad?”
I hesitated, cursing myself for not being more aware of my surroundings. Avery’s gaze darted over me, taking in my unbuttoned shirt, my unbuckled jeans, and my bare feet.
“Did you oversleep?” she asked, incredulous.
I shrugged and tried to play it off, making my way to the coffee pot.
“I guess all that festival activity made me more tired than I realized.”
“You’ve never overslept in my entire life,” Avery countered. “Not once. Even when you’re sick with the flu, you’re still awake at four-thirty every morning. Like clockwork.”
She paused and I hoped she would drop the subject, moving on to something else. But I should have known better. She was my daughter after all, inheriting my hard-headed genes.
“How’s Birdie?”
I froze, coffee pot in one hand, mug in the other. The memory of where I’d left Birdie a minute ago rose to mind—naked, content, with her perfume on my sheets. The lingering salty taste of her arousal was still on my tongue.
I knew I would have to talk to Avery at some point. My relationship would have an impact on her since she would be getting a new stepmother. Birdie and I were still so new though, and everything was happening so fast.
“I noticed you two were all over each other at the festival last night,” Avery went on. “It was cute. Lots of people were talking about what a handsome couple you made.” She paused and I could have sworn I heard her smile when she added, “I also noticed her car is still parked in the driveway this morning.”
Shit.
Before I could reply, the heavy tread of footsteps in the hallway signaled a visitor. A moment later, Bowen appeared, with his hat in his hand.
“My apologies for interrupting like this, sir,” he said. Then he nodded at Avery. “Mornin’, Miss Avery.”
“Hey, Bowen,” Avery replied, with a sudden hint of pink in her cheeks. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you. I came to talk to your father.” Bowen shifted his attention to me. “A mountain lion stampeded the cattle last night in the north pasture. Busted a fence. I’ve got Beau, Cody, and a few other ranch hands rounding up the missing cattle in the woods. I came back for supplies to mend the fence and I’m heading out there now.”
I scrubbed a hand over my mouth and set aside my mug, coffee forgotten as I switched into business mode.
“I’ll ride out with you.”
Bowen swept his gaze over me, assessing the same way Avery did a minute ago. I was unkempt, half-dressed, and nowhere near prepared to face the day. He was a wise man though, and decided to hold his tongue instead of cracking a wise-ass remark about the boss sleeping in when there was work to be done. With a firm nod, he placed his hat back on his head, and walked out.
When I returned to my bedroom, Birdie sat up, rubbing her eyes. I grabbed my boots, cursing myself that I didn’t bring a cup of coffee back with me at least.
“I have to go,” I said. “Mountain lion in the area. Cattle got out. Some of them might be injured or dead. Could you—?”
I broke off when I realized what I was about to say.
Could you see yourself out?
God, that was absolutely not how I wanted to end the night we’d shared together. But it was too late. Birdie must have sensed something had changed because she turned away, hugging the sheets protectively around her body when she hadn’t been that modest earlier.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I get it.”
I stood there like an idiot as Birdie disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. When she shut the door behind her, I cursed myself for ruining the mood.
I’d make it up to her later.
After I was dressed, I approached the bathroom door and rapped on it with two knuckles.
“Birdie? I’m heading out. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
No response.
“Birdie?”
“That’s fine.”
I hesitated at the tightness of her tone. This is how it started before, with my ex-wife.
You’re always obsessed with those damn cattle! Why didn’t you marry one of them instead?
I gritted my teeth, torn between my livelihood—the thing I knew best—and the woman I loved. In the end, it was really no contest. Birdie won by a landslide. She always would. And that’s why I needed to work. To build a life for her—for us—that would bring her comfort and everything she ever wanted. So she didn’t have to work another day in her life if she didn’t want to. So I could wake her up with my hands and my tongue and my cock every morning.
“I promise I will call,” I said, one final, desperate attempt to reach her.
Birdie said nothing.
Damn it. How could I make a mess of all this in such a short amount of time?
Reluctantly, I left the house. Bowen had my horse saddled by the barn, ready and waiting as he presented the reins to me. I took them, grateful for the familiar smoothness of worn leather in my grip.
The slam of a door caught my attention.
I looked up to see Birdie hurrying toward her truck. She didn’t look my way.
“Did you ever think about get married, Bowen?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“No, sir. Came close once. Before I worked at High Plains. We were too young though. Barely out of high school. Her parents wanted more for her than what a ranch hand could offer. So we parted ways.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Birdie started her truck. A cloud of dust billowed behind her as she drove away, growing smaller and smaller on the horizon. My chest tightened as I watched her leave.
Bowen shrugged and turned his horse toward the north pasture.
“Sometimes, things don’t turn out like you hoped they would. I guess that’s just the way life goes.”
I thought Birdie and I would be together. I could see a place for her here, settled in and comfortable, with a garden, and a vase of fresh flowers at dinner every night. I would always wear forget-me-nots pinned to the lapel of my shirt or coat, so I could carry a piece of her with me while I was working.
What if life was stripping Birdie out of my grasp right now? What if we weren’t meant to be together after all?
Bowen pulled his horse to a stop and cleared his throat.
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
I wrenched my gaze away from the horizon. Birdie was gone. I couldn’t even see the little cloud of dust that marked her truck’s retreat.
“You always have that, Bowen. Speak your mind.”
He gestured toward the pasture.
“You keep hired hands for a reason, sir.”
I waited for him to continue.
“Your head isn’t in the saddle,” Bowen added. “And if you’ll excuse me for being so bold to say it, but it seems to me like your heart isn’t in the saddle either. Not right now at least. It’s driving down that road somewhere.”
My horse shifted beneath me, restless to get moving. I closed my eyes and inhaled a steadying breath. Bowen was right.
I dismounted and tossed the reins to him. He caught them easily.
“Take care of those cattle for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
I broke into a jog toward the house, barging inside. I found Avery standing in front of the bathroom mirror, rubbing a clay mask into her cheeks and forehead.
“Wow, Dad,” she said with a laugh. “Were you raised in a barn? You usually knock first—”
I braced my hands on the door frame and leaned in, fighting to catch my breath.
“I need your help.”