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Emery
“Rise and shine, beautiful.”
My eyes crack open, and I see Graham hovering over me, a wide grin on his too handsome face. The first thing I notice, aside from my baby daddy standing over me, is that it’s still dark outside.
The alabaster white walls of his childhood bedroom are still blanketed by the pale moonlight, sitting low in the sky. I stretch my arms over my head, trying to shake the grogginess inside me.
I am not, and never will be, a morning person.
“What time is it?” I groan.
Graham looks down at his watch then back at me. “Four thirty.”
“In the morning?”
My voice is a hoarse screech, much different than his way too perky, sunshine timbre for this early in the morning. The man has literallylosthis mind.
“You do realize that the sun isn’t even up yet?” I pull the warm duvet back over my head and close my eyes.
I don’t actually expect an answer to my question, so when I feel a tug at the covers, I groan for the second time in five minutes.
“Of course, I do. I wanna take you somewhere, come on.”
Hearing the excitement in his voice is the only reason I begrudgingly toss off the covers and put my feet on the cold wood floor.
“Fine.”
I’ve never been a morning person, and I do not foresee that changing in the near future. I’m wearing an old t-shirt with a pair of shorts, and before I can even get up to get dressed, Graham shakes his head.
“Nah, just wear this. We’re not going far.”
He extends his hand, holding out an old sweatshirt that I’ve seen him wear. I nimbly take it from him, and pull it over my head, relishing the fact that it smells exactly like he does. Warm, happy… him.
God, my hormones must be raging. That has to be the reason I’m currently sniffing his sweatshirt like a weirdo.
We’ve only been at his childhood home for four days and honestly? I love it more than I ever imagined I would. Granted, there isn’t a “country” bone in my body, but there’s something peaceful and serene about being cut off from the rest of the world.
The farm, his family, all of it. It’s not what I expected, but in the best way. We’ve spent the past four days with his mom and sister, doing things on the farm and getting to know each other. I’ve learned how to muck a stall, which is not the best experience, but I did it without complaint because his mama was so proud when I finished it.
That’s something I’ve quickly learned about his family: they’re infectious. Youwantto make his mom smile, to impress her and earn her wide smile and loving eyes.
So, I’m officially a bona-fide country girl.
After I slip on my shoes, I follow quietly behind Graham as we exit the house and climb into the old truck that’s parked out front.
Graham cranks it up, and we pull behind the house, past the barn, into the expanse of hills and fields that are spread out behind his property. There’s only a gravel road that seems to wind around the property. It’s still dark, the sprinkle of stars scattered across the sky, and the bright headlights of the truck shine out in front of us.
We ride in comfortable silence, partly because I’m still half asleep, but mostly because I’m enjoying the scenery of his home. It’s nothing like Chicago, and surprisingly, the longer I’m here, the more and more it appeals to me.
After a short drive, he pulls up near a field that’s full of… strawberries?
He opens my door and extends his hand to help me out.
“What is this?”
Instead of answering, he pulls out a blanket from behind me, and then reaches for my hand once more.
His warm, strong hand slides in mine and he clasps gently, tugging me right alongside him. We climb the steep hill just in front of us until we’re at the very top.
