Chapter 31 Leith
Leith
I had all the documents that I’d stolen from Ron on my coffee table.
I thought there could’ve been something I’d missed since I’d first read them, but I couldn’t find anything new.
And I didn’t know the documents well enough to know if there was anything missing.
They’d been under my mattress since I brought them home.
Unless the boogeyman got them, they were exactly as they should be.
I wiped a hand down my face. There was no other way out. Clarke and I were going to have to get married, and soon. The five-year anniversary of my dad’s death was in two weeks, and that was the expiration date on my ability to inherit the farm.
It wasn’t that I wanted a way out of getting married to Clarke. I was…weirdly good with it. I guess I just wanted it to be something more. But I had to hope that could come after.
There was a knock at my door. Speak of the devil.
“Come in,” I called. Clarke walked into my saddle shed a couple seconds later.
She looked better. This morning, she was so pale and fragile looking, but her color was back.
I stood and went to greet her with a kiss on the cheek, but I couldn’t help myself. I went straight for her mouth instead.
A little shocked gasp came from her throat, and I swallowed it down. Kissing Clarke was one of the best things I’d ever done, and I never wanted it to stop.
“Hello to you too,” she said, putting a hand on my chest. I pulled back but then gave her one more quick peck for good measure.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Better. Thank you, um, for coming to Boone’s,” she said, looking down at the floor.
“I’m happy Collins called me,” I said. I put a knuckle under her chin and gently lifted it so she was looking at me. Collins knew this thing with Clarke and me started fake, and she called me anyway—that had to mean something.
“She thinks you’re okay,” Clarke said with a smile. “And so do I. Where’s Bill?”
“With Lainey,” I said. “She’s convinced she can get him to run with her with one of those waist leashes, but it’s not going well.”
“Well, I wouldn’t doubt Lainey,” she said.
“I don’t. I do, however, doubt Bill.”
I kissed Clarke again, wound my arms around her waist, and slipped one of my hands into her back pocket. I felt something there, so I took it out.
Clarke pulled away from the kiss, and once she saw what was in my hand, she muttered, “Fucking Collins.”
“What?” I asked, turning the small, white rectangle over in my hands. It was a Polaroid picture. When I saw what it was a picture of, my mouth dropped open.
“She must’ve snuck it into my pocket before I left.”
“Holy fuck,” I said. The Polaroid was of Clarke in her bedroom wearing some dark green lingerie. Her long hair was a little messy, and the way she was looking at the camera was…mesmerizing. “When did you take this?”
“Today.” Clarke groaned and flopped onto my couch.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, kneeling in front of her.
“I feel stupid.” She covered her eyes with her hands.
“Hey,” I said softly, rubbing my hands over her thighs. “You shouldn’t. You should feel insanely hot because you are.”
Clarke peeked out from behind her hands. “I am?”
“You are,” I said again. “And I want to sex you. Bad.” That got a laugh out of her.
“You do?”
“I do,” I replied emphatically. “Right now.”
“You said you had something to talk to me about,” she said. “Remember?”
“Later,” I said as I stood, bringing Clarke with me. I moved my hands down her back, over her ass, and back up. I wanted to touch every inch of her.
“Later,” Clarke agreed. Her voice was breathy, and her pupils were big. I loved it when she got like this—when I could see that she was just as affected by me as I was by her.
I put my mouth on hers and walked her back toward the wall. I felt her hands at the hem of my T-shirt, and I lifted my arms above my head to give her what she wanted. I groaned as I felt her hands on my bare skin.
Clarke gasped when her back hit the wall.
“I love your sounds,” I said into her neck, which I was obsessed with kissing and sucking and licking. I put my hand on the small of her back and pulled her middle into mine. “Fuck.”
“I want you all the time,” Clarke whispered. “It’s never been this way for me.”
“Me either,” I said honestly. The way I felt about Clarke was different from anything I’d ever felt for anyone. I knew what it was, but I didn’t know how or when or if I should even say it.
Our mouths were locked again, and we held each other tighter—like neither of us wanted even the smallest of spaces between our bodies.
This thing with Clarke and me had only two possible outcomes: Everything worked out or it didn’t. If that happened, I didn’t know how I’d recover. I was losing myself in her, and I didn’t even care. I skated my hands all over her body like I was trying to memorize the way she felt in my arms.
“I need you,” she said.
“Tell me you’re beautiful,” I said against her mouth.
Clarke pulled back. “What?” she said softly. I brought my hand up to her face and gently pushed my thumb into her mouth.
“I want to hear you say you’re beautiful,” I said and pulled my thumb out of her mouth. “Please.”
“I’m beautiful,” she whispered.
“That’s my girl,” I said. “But you’re so much more than that, Clarke.” Clarke’s hands went for my belt buckle, and I returned the favor. She kicked out of her boots, and I did the same before we both stepped out of our jeans.
She was wearing the same underwear she had on in the photo.
My mouth was on hers again, and our tongues tangled together. I moved my finger from her hip bone and over the fabric of her underwear before dipping it inside. “Fuck,” I said against her mouth. “You’re already so wet for me, honey.”
“Always,” she moaned. “Please, please, please.”
“Please what?”
“I want you now. I don’t care about anything else.
I just want you.” I snuck another finger in on her last word, and she moaned as her head fell to the side.
I didn’t know much about art, but I felt like the way Clarke’s mouth made a perfect “O” when she moaned deserved to be painted or sculpted or both. Probably both.
“Stay here,” I said. “I’m going to get a condom, and then I’m going to fuck you against this wall.”
She nodded, and I went to my nightstand as fast as I could to grab a condom from the drawer, putting it on in what felt like seconds, and made my way back to her.
Nothing could keep me away from this woman.
“Ready, honey?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. Her hand was on the side of my face. I swallowed hard as I lined myself up at her entrance and then slid in. Slowly. I had to fight to keep my head upright. She felt so fucking good. Clarke whimpered and her body shook a little.
“Are you okay?” I asked between kisses around her face.
“Better than that,” she breathed. “Fuck me, honey.”
“How do you want it?” I asked. I was desperate to let go, but I didn’t want to do anything she didn’t want or like.
“Hard,” she said, and I nodded. I pulled out almost to the end and then thrust inside of her. “Oh god,” she moaned. “Just like that.”
“Tell me you’re beautiful again,” I said. “I want to hear you say it while I’m fucking you.”
“I’m beautiful,” she said on my next thrust, and then the next one. Over and over again until both of us devolved into moans and sighs and fucks and yeses. She put her hand in between us, rubbing at her clit.
“Clarke,” I moaned into her shoulder. “That’s right, honey. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“You’re so good, Leith,” she said. “I love the way you feel inside me.” I kept my pace steady, knowing that’s what both of us needed.
“I-I—” Clarke gasped, and her body started to shake. I locked my arm around her waist as I came on a groan.
Both of us stood there. Sweaty and panting with our foreheads pressed together.
“I love doing that,” she breathed.
“Ditto,” I said. I loved doing it because I was doing it with Clarke, and I loved Clarke. I swallowed, so I wouldn’t say it out loud.
* * *
A little while later, Clarke and I were snuggled up on my couch. Her head was on my shoulder, and her hand was on my chest. I watched it go up and down as I breathed. We needed to talk. I needed her to marry me—like tomorrow—but I didn’t want to burst this bubble yet.
This bubble in which I loved her, maybe she loved me back, and the ring on her left hand was more than just a bargain. It was a promise.
“Are those all the documents for the farm?” she asked, gesturing to the table. Well, I guess the bubble was about to burst.
“Yeah. I’ve tried to see if there’s anything I’ve missed, any other options, but I couldn’t find anything.”
“I’m sorry this is happening,” she said.
“Me too,” I said. But it brought me you, I thought. “I feel like there has to be another something we’re not seeing.”
“Okay, well, let’s then, then.”
“I’ve been thinking for weeks.” I sighed. “I don’t think anything new is going to come up now.”
“Humor me,” Clarke said. “Maybe we don’t think about the farm specifically—maybe we go broader. Like, what would stop a building or something from being torn down?”
“I don’t know.” I wiped my hand down my face. “Historical significance, maybe?”
“Wait,” Clarke said, sitting up straight. “What was Brady reading about in the paper this morning? That bar in Meadowlark.”
“The one that’s now a historical site?”
“Exactly!” Clarke exclaimed. I could see her wheels turning. “Why couldn’t the farm be like that?”
“Because it’s a farm? Not a building?”
“So?” she asked. “It’s still historically significant to Sweetwater Peak. And there are buildings on the farm.” She stood up and grabbed her phone out of her pants pocket—both pairs of our jeans were still on the floor.
When she returned to her seat, she’d pulled a search engine up. “Oh my god, Leith. This is it! This is the way!”
“But doesn’t that take like lawyers and paperwork?” I asked. “We only have two weeks, honey.”
“Two weeks?” Clarke asked, confused.
“Five-year anniversary of my dad’s death,” I said softly. “And the only lawyer I know is Ron, and he’s obviously on Flynn’s side.”
“I think we should try,” Clarke said. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll marry you that day, but…this would protect the farm indefinitely. And by proximity, the town.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to start the paperwork, Clarke,” I said, feeling dejected.
A smile stretched across Clarke’s face. “I didn’t think about it until you said Ron is the only lawyer you know. But I think I know someone who can help.”