I’d allowed myself one selfish moment; I won’t do it again.
I dump my clothes in the hamper and yank back the sheets to collapse onto the bed, her scent immediately coming over me. It’s on my sheets and my pillow, that sugary, mouthwatering aroma everywhere; I can’t escape it.
Hours pass with me staring up at the darkened ceiling, hours of replaying the kiss in my head, the way she had chased my touch when I pulled away. How do you come back from a kiss like that?
I rise with the sun the following morning, the house around me still sleeping, and make a coffee before I stand at the window and watch the ranch wake up too. A herd of horses is running through the field opposite the house; their hooves a vibration I feel in the planks beneath my feet. This is what I know. This is what I have dedicated my life to. The horses. The ranch. And my children.
I told myself I’d never want a woman again. Want love again. And now Juniper Scott has come into my life, and I’m finding myself imagining opening myself up again like that. Mornings spent on the porch, watching the sun rise and set fire to the mountains; evenings chasing the stars before we tumble into bed and lose ourselves within the sheets. Soft touches and knowing glances. Dinners spent around the table, quiet moments where music fills the house and we dance with no one watching.
I didn’t believe I’d miss having someone like that, that I’d be fine just the way I am, but even I can admit it’s a lonely life.
The click of a door opening steals my attention, and I watch Juni emerge, her blonde hair disheveled from sleep, eyes a little puffy. She freezes when she spots me standing at the window, lashes fluttering a little. I can’t help but drop my eyes to her lips, slightly parted as she figures out whether she’s going to bolt or say something. They felt so damn good, soft and pillowy, her kiss something I’ll never be able to scratch from my memory.
Swallowing thickly, I place my coffee down and start toward her, pausing when she takes a step back.
“Juni,” My hand curls over the back of the couch, fingers tightening as if to physically hold myself in place.
“It’s okay,” she rasps, her voice a little croaky, edged still with sleep.
My head shakes, “About last night, I wanted it. I need you to know that.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” She looks at her feet, a wobbly breath leaving her. “I get it.”
“Do you?” I pry.
Her shoulders lift in a shrug, and she sighs, “Not really.”
I feel the corners of my mouth lift in a slight smile. “I’ve been on my own an awfully long time.”
She finally meets my eyes again. “So have I.”
I search her face, letting those three words sink under my skin. Physically, she’s not been alone, but emotionally… Yeah, she’s been just like me. Surrounded by people with no one to talk to. She’s been surviving. Merely existing in a world that has been more than cruel to her.
“But really,” she shakes her head, “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m leaving eventually anyway; it’s not like I’ll be around forever, and well, that would just complicate it all, right?”
“Right,” my molars grind, “complicated.”
“Yeah,” she breathes, wetting her lips, which draws my attention back to them.
So damn pretty.
She is a work of art you simply can’t look away from; from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, she is perfection.
A magnet.
I’m finding it nearly impossible not to go to her, not to follow the incessant tug that makes me want to close the gap between us and drag her into my arms.
“Would you prefer I find somewhere else to stay?” Her eyes bounce around my face as she fidgets on the spot.
“No,” the word snaps out quickly. “I don’t want you to leave.”
As I say the words, I realize I mean more than just this house. I mean this ranch, this town.Me.
“Okay,” she whispers, taking a step closer. My fingers tighten on the cushion as she starts to close the gap. I almost warn her to stop, to stay right there, my restraint on a fraying rope, but then her hand lands on my chest and she presses up onto her toes, her lips brushing over my cheek.
“You’re a good man, Silas.” She whispers close to my ear, “And in any other lifetime, I think I would have followed you to the ends of the earth.”
Fuck.
