Chapter 7
Dan
Morning crept in slow. And I let it. I was in no rush to get up. The only sounds were the dying fire and Lorraine’s steady breathing.
She lay beside me, her short grey hair wild against the pillow. I marvelled at how messy it was. We hadn’t even had crazy, wild sex. That was probably beyond us at our age. What we did have was better—more intimate, sensual, perfect.
The blankets were tucked around us, creating a cocoon of warmth. One of her hands rested on my chest.
I didn’t move. Didn’t want to. I’d dreamed of moments like these for most of my life. Moments of quiet where it was just the two of us. Us. Her and me. Not saying a word, because we didn’t need to…not because she was asleep. That last thought kind of ruined the whole romance of it.
I let out a soft chuckle. At least I wasn’t completely delusional. She was here willingly. It wasn’t like I’d tricked her or kidnapped her.
I trailed my fingers along her arm. Her skin was warm and silky.
Over fifty years, and she was finally lying in my arms, and I didn’t want to forget a moment of it.
The fact was, I had been probably in love with Lorraine ever since our first day at school when she punched someone for trying to push in front of me at the slide.
I don’t even know if she remembered that.
She stirred, and her eyes blinked open slowly. When our eyes met, she smiled a small, secret, sleepy smile. The kind that felt like it was meant only for me. Well, der, who else would it be for. I was the only one here. Regardless, I’d never get tired of seeing it.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice husky.
“It sure is.”
She smirked. “I wonder why.”
Cheeky.
“Let’s see, the woman who I’ve been asking to go on a date with me for the past, twenty…thirty years, finally said yes, and then after a romping good time she told me I still had it.”
“I don’t recall saying that exactly.”
I grunted. “Just so you know, you weren’t too bad yourself.”
A blush rose on her cheeks and then her eyes widened. “You are not going to tell Isabelle that you were riding out the storm.”
I laughed. “That is on a need-to-know basis. And she does not need to know.”
She gave me a sly grin. “Did that earn her two weeks paid work?”
I shook my head. “That little rascal.”
She stretched and glanced toward the window. “Still snowing?”
“Hard to tell. Everything’s white out there.”
“If we’re snowed in... we’ll just have to find a way to pass the time.”
“I can think of a few.”
She laughed and sat up, taking a blanket with her. “I hate to disappoint you, but this old lady has an old lady bladder that she needs to empty.”
She stood up and grabbed my flannel shirt off our pile of clothes and headed to the bathroom.
“If you’re old, that means I’m old, too,” I called after her.
“If the shoe fits…”
“I’ll remember that.”
She giggled.
I smiled. How long did it take people to be comfortable enough to talk about urinating with their new partners? Was it because we were older and more mature, or because that sort of awkwardness didn’t exist between us? It never had.
I went to the fire and added some wood to it.
It was still warm inside the cabin even though the fire had died down to small flames and embers.
If we didn’t keep it stoked, that could change very quickly.
Then I glanced out the window. It was a white wonderland out there.
I could just make out the main resort in the distance.
There was no way we were going there any time soon.
Lorraine came out wearing my shirt and put the kettle on. She rummaged in the fridge. “Eggs and bacon for breakfast?”
“Sounds great. I need to keep my energy up seeing we’re snowed in.”
She rolled her eyes as I made my way past her to the bathroom. Truth be told, my old man bladder needed emptying, too. When I came out, I asked if she needed help, and she pointed to the coffee machine.
“So, what do you plan to do with yourself, once Curtis takes over the equine hospital?” she asked.
“Other than remaining on as a consultant, I’d love to travel.”
“Where to?”
“Anywhere. Everywhere.” I took our mugs of coffee to the table.
“I think I’d start with South America,” she said.
I nodded. “Yeah, like Peru.”
She brought the plates of food over and sat opposite me. “It has it all—ancient ruins, rainforest, Spanish coastal towns.”
“You retired a couple of years ago, why haven’t you travelled?” I asked.
“It didn’t seem right, with the farm and the drought. Taylor and Ciaron have been struggling to balance it all, and I didn’t want to leave them.”
“You’re a good mum.”
“Not that good. I didn’t realise their relationship was struggling as well. If I had, I could have helped them before they separated.”
“Lucky, that didn’t last long.”
“It could have. And I never would have forgiven myself.”
I reached over and took her hand. “Lorraine, it’s OK. They found their way through. You helped them with that.”
She squeezed my hand and took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“Perhaps when the drought is over, we can travel together.”
She smiled. It lit up her whole face and my heart. “I’d like that.”
My phone rang. I went to the bench to check who was calling. Curtis.
“Sorry, I have to take this.”
She nodded. Her smile dimmed.