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Catching her cries in her throat, she only allowed herself a quiet, strangled moan as her body tensed, ecstasy blazing through her veins, pleasure shattering her into a million pieces, each one flying away before floating slowly to the ground like the apple blossoms off the trees after the storm rolled through.
“So good,” he said from somewhere in the distance. “So perfect.” And then, sharply, “Oh, you havegotto be kidding me.”
Her eyes popped open. “What?” She raised her phone to her face, suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness.
“Madigan’s calling on the other line.”
“Right now?” she blurted out, struggling to regain control over her legs, her arms, her hands, yanking the straps of her tank top up as quickly as she could, like Madigan was somehow about to join their FaceTime sex call. “Can you call him back later?”
“I would. I absolutely would. But he almost never calls me unless it’s important. Shit, he’s calling again.”
Despite the pleasure still melting her muscles and making her thoughts mushy, she said, “But it’s your turn.”
He laughed, but it was more like a groan. “I’m so sorry, Mira. But I should really take this. Believe me, I don’t want to. Missing out on aftercare so I can talk to my best friend with a raging hard-on was definitely not on my agenda today.”
Now she was laughing too. “Call me after?”
“Count on it.”
“Wait,” she said before he ended the call. “Happy birthday.”
“Best present I ever got,” he said, and then he winked. “And I don’t mean the tarts.”
When he ended the call, she slid her curtain open an inch, letting the sun shine on her skin. Her body was warm, her core pulsing, her heart soaring. But little by little, second by second, she and her heart came back down to earth, gravity returning, doubling, tripling.
It was too quiet. It was too quiet because Cole was gone. Because he’d never really been there at all. She was still alone, and as much as she wanted to convince herself the sudden, oppressive silence closing in all around her was tolerable, no big deal, completely fine, she couldn’t. Because it wasn’t fine.Shewasn’t fine.
Was this where they were heading? Was this what a long-distance romantic relationship would be like with him? FaceTime orgasms followed by missing him so much it caved her chest in, crushing everything vital beneath it? Would it be worth it? Would it be enough?
As a fluffy white cloud moved overhead, passing in front of the sun, her shoulders sank, because she didn’t have an answer.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
COLE
Cole was beside himself,inconsolable, not only because he’d just watched Mira come for the first time, but because her pleasure at her own fingers instead of his had opened a gaping hole in his chest he had no idea how to describe, let alone how to fill.
“Hey, Mad.” It was miraculous, but he sounded almost normal, not at all like a man who’d just been completely and utterly destroyed by a muffled cry.
“Cole.” Madigan’s uncharacteristically tense voice was a bucket of ice water over Cole’s head, and his pants. “Have a minute?”
“What’s wrong?” He stood from his chair. “Is it Ashley? Davis?”
“No, no. They’re fine. Everyone is fine.”
“You don’t sound fine, Mad. What’s going on?”
He sighed, and Cole would have bet every penny he owned that he was running his knuckles through his beard. “You know how Ashley and I are about to go on our honeymoon?”
“Yeah,” Cole said. “In a couple of days, right?”
“That was the plan. But now it looks like we might not be able to go at all.”
“What? Why?”
Mad sighed again, even deeper. “The entire time I’ve owned Little Timber, I haven’t spent more than a few days away at once. The only reason I thought we could take three weeks off was because Brian agreed to come back to Red Falls while we were gone to look after the home for me. But he just called.”
It was strange, the buzzing sensation building beneath Cole’s sternum. “Okay.”
