11. Piper
Piper
Four. Fucking. Times.
That’s how many orgasms I gave myself last night.I’m talking full-body, back-arching, bite-the-pillow-so-I-don’t-scream kind of moments. The kind that leave you wrecked and ruined and still so goddamn unsatisfied you’re two seconds away from dry humping your pillow just to feel something.
Last night, Christian did something that obliterated every rational thought in my brain.
He sniffed me, and it wasn’t some polite, passing brush of air.
No. This was pure, primal animal shit. It was like he was getting high off my scent, and I was something he wanted to consume.
His nose slowly traced along my neck, the kind of touch that makes you forget your name, and God help me—I fucking loved it.
Now I’m a mess. I’ve gone so far past ruined that fucked doesn’t even begin to cover it, and it’s all because of one man.
But this morning, I woke up with nothing but clarity.
I have to end things with Travis.
Not after the time I’ve spent up here. Not after Christmas, when I’ll be expected to smile and play the part of blissfully happy girlfriend, pretending everything is fine, and not after I selfishly let this whole charade drag out just to stay in this house and be near that cowboy for a little longer.
I know what Christian needs me to do.
Bury my feelings.
Pretend they don’t exist.
Move on.
Like it’s that simple.
The crisp mountain air stings my cheeks, but I welcome the burn.
Out here, under the endless stretch of sky, surrounded by towering evergreens dusted in white, I feel calm.
It’s like the storm inside me settles just enough to let me breathe, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’m going to hate leaving this place tonight.
I’m lost in thought when Savannah appears beside me, pressing a warm mug into my hands.
“I take it Travis is still acting like a spoiled brat?” She arches a brow as she watches me bring the mug to my lips.
“He hasn’t come back since Callan dragged him home last night,” I say, wrapping my fingers tighter around the mug, letting the warmth seep into my frozen hands. “I’m guessing he’s busy throwing the world’s biggest tantrum.”
“I know he’s your guy, but I have to tell you, that boy is damn lucky he hasn’t been slapped over the years. The little shit could’ve done with it growing up.” A dry laugh slips out before I can stop it, and damn if I don’t like her a little more for her honesty.
“You don’t have to hold yourself back for me. I know exactly who he is.”
Her eyes narrow, and I can see the protective fire building.
“I just feel for Christian, you know? He doesn’t have any other kids, he doesn’t have a wife, he does everything for everyone, and yet he’s been treated like trash over the years by his own flesh and blood.
And tell me, who’s going to benefit from this place when it’s time?
The same flesh and blood who would watch Christian burn and wouldn’t piss on him to put out the flames. ”
My stomach drops so fast I’m pretty sure it hits my shoes while tears threaten to fall from my eyes, and suddenly, I’m fighting back nausea because how fucking horrible can one family be? The weight of her words—the absolute brutality of a son treating his father like he’s nothing—crashes over me.
Christian deserves so much more, and I find myself wanting to fight for him in ways I’ve never wanted to fight for anyone before.
“You’re right. It has to stop.” I turn and march my ass back to the house, pull out my phone, and send Travis a message that makes my fingers ache with how hard I’m typing.
PIPER: You need to get back to the farm. You owe everyone here a fucking apology, and we need to talk.
Shoving the phone into my back pocket, I spin on my heel and nearly run straight into Callan, who’s waiting just inside the doorway. He gives me a lazy wave, resting his hands on his hips as he studies me.
“Everything okay?” He tips his head. “Or should I not ask?”
“I was just messaging Travis.”
“Let me guess? You haven’t heard from him?”
“Nope.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Callan mutters, shaking his head. “Kid’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of Everest.”
I sigh, crossing my arms. “Did he say much last night?”
“Just the usual shit about Christian.” He drags a hand through his hair in a way that looks painfully familiar. A mirror image of his brother. “Has he ever talked to you about his problem with him? Because I don’t think I get it.”
“Only that he wishes he wasn’t tied to this town or the Crawford name. Apparently, compared to the Beaufords, you guys are nothing but a bunch of arrogant, self-serving assholes who are beneath what his mom and her family represent.”
Callan lets out a low whistle. “Wow, so Meredith really is a bitter old hag.”
“Did Christian break her heart or something? Because, honestly, I don’t understand where all this hate comes from.”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “They met, they had sex, they made Travis… one night was all it took. ”
I didn’t need to imagine that cowboy’s dick in anyone else, but here we are.
“Then why the grudge?”
“Pretty sure it comes from her parents expecting Christian to marry her.”
“After one night?”
“Yeah.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “They didn’t want anyone to know their daughter spread her legs in a field and ended up knocked up without a ring on her finger.
They offered Christian cash, tried to buy out the farm, and went straight to my dad with some bullshit deal to make the whole thing go their way.
It was a whole fucking mess for an eighteen-year-old kid, and Christian, being Christian, wouldn’t do a damn thing he didn’t want to do,” Callan continues.
“Especially not something like that. So he refused, and ever since, the Beaufords have made his life a living hell. Kept him from seeing his kid and made him fight for every scrap of time he got.”
“All the Beaufords fucking suck.”
“And yet you’re dating one.”
“Was,” I correct. “That’s done.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I’m not doing this for another day.” He watches me for a beat, nodding like he’s waiting to see if I’ll take it back. When I don’t, he exhales, shoulders dropping like he’s relieved. “Can I still work at the bar, or will you catch shit for employing the enemy?”
“I’d keep you on just to piss him off more, to be honest.” We both laugh, and he walks toward me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “You’ve got a job at the bar for as long as you want.”
“Thank you,” I say, meaning it.
We step outside, and the farm is already buzzing with life.
Families flood in, and kids sprint ahead of their parents.
Their excitement spills out in shrieks, and laughter bounces through the air.
Callan disappears toward the cutting field, saw slung over his shoulder, while Savannah hands out hot drinks, and I gather all the little ones into the most epic snowball fight this farm has ever seen.
Kids dive behind trees, parents laugh and cheer from the sidelines, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.
I’m pacing the kitchen like a caged animal, and my nerves are stretched so fucking thin they might snap.
Callan closed early to get back to the bar, and everyone else went home.
Now it’s just me waiting on Travis. I only know he’s coming back after the one-word message I got a couple of hours ago.
“OK.” That was it. No apology. No explanation.
Just a bare-minimum response that somehow still manages to piss me off.
I’m praying Christian stays away. If everything goes according to plan, this relationship will be dead and buried, and I’ll be curled up on my sister’s couch before I have to explain myself to anyone else.
The front door opens, and it’s not the slow, deliberate shuffle of boots that belongs to a certain hot daddy cowboy.
No, this is Travis.
He rounds the corner into the kitchen, where I’m leaning against the counter, my fingers gripping the edge so tight the tips start to go numb. He barely glances at me before exhaling like I’m nothing more than a fucking chore.
“Don’t start,” he growls. “I don’t need your shit too.”
“Too?”
“Yeah.” His jaw clenches. “My mom’s already riding my ass about coming back here tonight.”
A harsh laugh escapes me. “That woman wouldn’t dare say a word against her precious boy. She’d blame God himself before holding you accountable for anything.”
“Shut up, Piper. I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now.”
“Well, that’s good. That’ll make my life a hell of a lot easier because after tonight, you’ll never have to deal with me again.”
He stops and tilts his head. Then the bastard smiles, and that smile turns into a laugh—loud, cocky, and downright disrespectful.
“Is this you attempting to break up with me?”
“This is over, Travis. You know it, and I know it. It’s been a long time coming.” His smirk falters, eyes narrowing. “Don’t look at me like that,” I bite out. “Neither of us makes each other happy, and if we’re being honest, I don’t think we ever fucking have.”
Because this—whatever the hell we’ve been doing—has never been love or anything close to it.
“It’s the fact that you’re the one breaking up with me that I can’t wrap my head around.”
“Jesus.” I bark out a laugh, crossing my arms over my chest. “Your misplaced ego is so far out of hand it’s in another fucking time zone.”
“Do you really think you’ll ever do better?” My eyes harden as anger curls tight in my chest. “Look at you, Piper. You’re average at best.”
Oh, this motherfucker.
“Yet you pursued me,” I snap, and he lets out a low chuckle, his tongue swiping over his teeth before he speaks.
“And yet you never stopped to wonder why,” Travis sneers, stepping closer to me. “I mean, come on…”
“Hate to break it to you, Travis, but you’re nobody’s first choice.”
“I had my mouth on you right here on this farm on our first date. Didn’t have to try too hard, did I?”
His smugness makes my blood boil, and I want to claw the look right off his face. But I bite my tongue because the bastard isn't wrong, and I hate that more than anything.
“You think I don’t notice the way my dad watches you?”
“What?”
“I saw it the night we met, and I’ve seen it every time you two are in the same room since.” He stops just inches from me, so close that I can feel the heat of his breath. “Must kill him, knowing his son’s got the one thing he can’t touch. Bet he lies awake at night thinking about it.”
Wow. Fucking wow.
A laugh erupts out of me before I can stop it. I brace myself on the back of a chair, my head falling forward as my shoulders shake, and I gasp for breath.
“Is this funny to you?” he spits out.
“Oh god, you have no idea.” I wheeze, my body convulsing with laughter. I barely register him moving before his hands are on me, yanking me upright.
“Why the hell are you laughing?”
Still breathless, I swipe at my eyes and tilt my head back to meet his furious stare. His face is red, and his jaw is clenched so tight I swear I hear his teeth grind, and when he finally lets me go, his fists tremble at his sides like he’s one wrong word away from losing his shit.
“Because…” I breathe, still grinning. “It means that all these months of being bored out of my fucking mind with you, I could’ve been riding your dad instead.”
His nostrils flare, his whole body locking up like he’s barely keeping himself from putting his fist through the wall.
“You think he’s the better man? I took you.”
A laugh rips from my throat as I shake my head. “Yeah, because I never once believed somebody like him would want me. But you? You obviously did.”
“Don’t think you’re special, Piper. My dad would get balls deep in anything with a pulse if they looked his way.”
“Clearly…” I drag the word out, relishing the way his face starts to twist. “He did fuck your mom, after all.”
The crack of his hand against my face explodes through the kitchen like a gunshot. Pain lashes across my cheek and whips my head to the side with enough force that it makes my teeth rattle. The burn spreads like wildfire, my ears ring, and for just a second, all I hear is my own breathing.
And then it sinks in.
The asshole actually fucking hit me.
My vision tunnels to a pinpoint of red-hot rage.
There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing.
I rear back, pouring every ounce of hatred, every shred of humiliation, and every moment I’ve wasted on this pathetic excuse of a man into my right fist. Bone meets bone in a sickening crunch, and I’m almost certain I feel his nose cave beneath my knuckles.
His head snaps back, a garbled sound rips from his throat, and all I feel is satisfaction.
Because no man puts his hands on me and walks away with his nose intact.