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She kisses me after running to me as soon as she gets off the plane. I can’t help but grin. She has her usual overnight bag and her briefcase, which I find disheartening. I concentrate on the kiss instead and whisk her off to the car to head to dinner. She has a few glasses of white wine with our dinner, and when I ask her about dessert, she waggles her eyebrows at me, and we head back to the ranch.
Fucking her in my bed feels like claiming her, like I get to have someone that other men want and she’s all mine. And falling asleep next to her after I come, sated and slick with her juices on my face, is pure bliss. When I wake up the next morning, I can smell bacon cooking and coffee brewing. Now this is the real surprise.
I had no idea that Julia knew how to cook, let alone cook a proper country breakfast. She has biscuits in the oven, gravy on the stove, and I see some fat and crispy bacon on a plate, so I know she’s using bacon grease in that gravy. She’s sexier than I’ve ever seen her, wearing only my flannel shirts. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to bend her over that counter and take her right there.
“What do we have to do today?”
I go over to the coffee pot and get a mug down from the cabinet. “Well, I have a few hands hired to do most of the chores this weekend. We can relax this morning, and then we’re hitting the trail for a picnic out at one of my favorite spots.”
“You made a picnic?” Her voice goes up a few octaves on the end of her question.
“You didn’t see the basket in the fridge?”
“No, I went out to the store for this stuff. I didn’t know if you’d want me to use yours.”
I’m floored. “You went out to the grocery store, 25 minutes away, and then came back here to cook breakfast? I hope you got dressed for that.”
“Of course.” She pulls the biscuits out of the oven, and my mouth begins to water. “I went for a run down the trail off the barn and then took a shower before I went out.”
“When did you get up? It’s only 7am!” I sit down with my coffee.
“I’m up every day at five. Internal clock.”
I take a sip. “Wow,” I say when my mug comes down, “and I thought I was an early riser.”
“I’m glad you slept in a bit,” she turns off the stove, “you work too hard.”
I laugh at that, and coffee almost comes out of my nose. She gives me a stern look, and I go back to my coffee as she gets the rest of the meal ready to go for the table. She sets down plates and utensils, and she looks like she belongs here. With her hair swept up in a messy bun, smelling like my shampoo, I have a dream of every morning being like this.
“Dig in.” She smiles and takes the chair next to me.
After breakfast, we get dressed and head out on the trail. I bring her the long way around since we didn’t get to take the walk on that foot bridge over the creak the last time we went riding to check the fence line. We have to carefully walk the horses over it instead of riding, and we stop to look out at the scene in front of us when we reach the middle of the bridge.
“This is so peaceful,” she says, and takes a deep breath in, then lets it out.
I’m happy she’s in the moment with me, her phone nowhere to be seen. I’m not sure she brought it with her, and that surprises me. It pains me to admit it, even if it’s in my head, but my mother may have been right.
We stop for the picnic, and I see her enjoying every part of the scenery and her lunch. She asks me about the ranch and what my week has been like, and she doesn’t mention her job once. I don’t bring it up either. I need a break from hearing about the goings on at her office, and right now, I’m completely in paradise.
There’s no rush to get back, and we enjoy a good old fashioned make out on the picnic blanket. The ride back to the ranch on my horse is slightly uncomfortable with my semi. The rest of our night is wide open, and I know exactly what I want to do next.
As soon as we walk through the front door, she goes back to my bedroom, and I start cleaning up the kitchen. I look at that countertop and think about bending her over it again.
Julia comes back into the kitchen with her phone at her ear, and my heart sinks. Boner gone. I can already see where this is going, and I’m kicking myself internally for believing that I’d get the entire weekend with her. I stop what I’m doing, lean against the counter, and fix her with my best withering stare.
She doesn’t notice.
I can only hear her side of the conversation, but I can tell that there’s some kind of crisis that’s going to make her think she has to fly back on the red eye tonight. She can’t give me one more day. She’s supposed to go back tomorrow evening. It’s Saturday. What could they possibly need right this minute?
She’s pacing the kitchen as she speaks, and then she walks over to the front entryway and comes back to the kitchen with her fucking briefcase. I throw up my hands and go to make some coffee. She still doesn’t notice me, even though I’m making a lot more noise than necessary as I fill the coffee pot and add the grounds.
Her computer is out, and she’s talking frantically. I see her put in Bluetooth earbuds, and I’m wondering if maybe she’s going to try and handle this remotely instead of leaving. I’d still be unhappy about her working in my kitchen, but I wouldn’t be as unhappy as if she asked me to take her to the airport.
She looks over at me with a grimace. I’m not sure if she’s annoyed about my aggressive coffee making or if she’s genuinely sorry that she’s taking this call right now. Either way, I’m not letting up. The coffee percolates, and I cross my arms over my chest. When it’s done, I pour a cup, and she looks up at me again, pleading with her eyes. I pour her a cup too and set it down next to her computer.
“Thank you,” she mouths at me. “I’m so sorry.”
She goes back to her conversation, and I sit down at the table with my coffee. I sip quietly and listen to her as she works. She’s talking to her CFO about the IT project and the meetings from earlier in the week. As it goes on, I know she’s about to ask me to take her to the airport.
