“And I made it happen three times?!” I crow, proudly… and a little fucking awestruck, if I’m honest. A little devastated for her, considering how easy it was to get her off, how fucking beautiful she is when she’s wound up and at the mercy of my fingers, how good she tastes and how much my heart swelled when she fell apart with my name on her lips. How incredible she felt, squeezing my cock like she was born to do it. Like she was fucking made for me. Those good-for-nothing assholes she must have been with before mustn’t have even bothered trying, because if they had, they surely would never have let her go. Maybe I should send them a thank you card.
“Four, if you count the time up on the ridge,” she admits shyly. Fuck, how could I forget? That was one of the hottest moments of my life.
“Thank you,” I whisper into the space between her neck and shoulder. I kiss the soft skin there. “Thank you for letting it be me.”
“Pretty sure I’m the one who should be thanking you,” she says breathlessly, tilting her head against the pillow and opening up the space for me.
“Oh, I have plenty of ways for you to thank me,” I say with a waggle of my eyebrows. I dive in, leaning over her body and licking and sucking at the skin of her throat.
She giggles, and I swear to god it’s like the sound of angels.
“Maybe after a nap,” she says, and nestles back into me. “Think you’ve worn me out, Cowboy.”
Dear Lord, if I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me. Let me stay in this heavenly slumber with Ruth tucked against my body, basking in a post-sex glow that has her skin gently flushed, her eyes glazed and sparkling, and the prettiest smile on her beautiful face.
“Get some rest, baby girl,” I say, pressing one last kiss to her shoulder. “We have all the time in the world.”
We sleep for about two hours. When I wake, Ruth’s hair is tickling my face as she leans over me, a peaceful smile on her face as she watches me sleep. Or, I guess, watches me return to wakefulness.
“Hey, sleepy,” she says softly. That smile colours her voice in a way I’ve never heard before, and fuck, I think I could hear it every day until the world ends, and I’d never tire of it. I try to return her greeting but no words come out, so I clear my throat and try again.
“Hey, you.”
“Who’s Tansy?”
A sharp shock catches my breath like a kick to the chest. Tansy is a name I haven’t heard for a long time.
“Tansy was Grandaddy Smith’s horse. First horse I ever rode. She was beautiful—buckskin, the most majestic girl. Where’d you hear her name?”
“You talk in your sleep.” Her smile is still soft, and she settles on her elbow, tilting her head to look at me.
“I do not.”
“You said, and I quote,‘hey Tansy, you want a peppermint?’”
“Well, that’s only a little embarrassing,” I say with a chuckle. I duck my face away. It’s been years since I’ve even thought about Tansy. Grandaddy taught me to ride on her, not long after Mom gave him hell for putting me on a bull for the first time. I rode like hell, and I loved every one of the five seconds I managed to hang on, but even though I heard the whisper of my name in the rodeo’s call, I chose ranching.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Ruth shifts, dropping from her elbow to her side until we’re laying face to face.
“Of course, honey. Anything you wanna know.”
“If Tanner is your dad’s name, but the ranch came from your mum’s side of the family, why is it the Tanner Ranch?”
I let out a low chuckle. Although a little weird, it’s an easy question to answer, and far less awkward than any of the other questions I thought Ruth might ask.
“Before Mom met Dad, the ranch was the Smith Cattle Ranch of Skillett, officially. Except, Grandaddy had been forced to broaden his scope from just cattle, and the business was losing direction. He was close to selling up. Mom went off to get her MBA, and when she came home for the summer, Dad was working the ranch. His grandfather was one of Jody’s family’s ranch hands, but they didn’t need any extra hands, and Grandaddy did.”
I smile at the memory of the story I’ve heard a hundred times. The way Mom’s eyes would soften when she talked about meeting Dad in the kitchen for the first time. How his would sparkle when he added the part about sneaking away behind the stable block.
“Anyway,” I continue. “Mom finished her degree doing distance learning. She and Dad married, and because she had all the business know-how, she jumped in right away to help Grandaddy figure out how to keep the ranch. When she diversified the income streams and got us back in the black—and not just surviving, butkillin’ it—Grandaddy changed the name. He said it was always gonna be Mom’s someday, or be handed down to her kids, and since she’s a Tanner now, the ranch might as well take her name.”
Ruth’s eyes have that same softness as Mom’s, the same sheen of tears coating them.
“That’s beautiful,” she says quietly. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“Baby girl, I’ll share anything you want with you.” I close the space between us and capture her lips in a gentle kiss. A kiss that quickly develops into something far more intense.
“I’m pretty sure you mentioned some ideas about me thanking you,” she says with a wicked grin. “Care to share any of those?” She turns in my arms until she’s on her back and I’m propped on one elbow, hovering above her. There’s a twinkle in her eye, a kind of clarity that’s arisen since our nap. Her lips curl into a small smirk.
