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Ten
On the night they’d spent together after he’d sworn they’d never sleep together again, caution had closely followed their orgasms. Now there were no roped-off areas, no caution lingering in her eyes, no awkward covering of her naked body. She was the picture of bliss. Her eyes were drawn, her smile adorably goofy, and she was laid out nude like she was as unashamed as she’d ever been with him.
It was hell leaving her to dispose of the condom, but he did, taking care to tug on his jeans before jogging down the stairs. He returned to the loft to find her sitting on the center of the blanket, wearing naught but his plaid shirt.
He’d thought he preferred her naked to clothed, until she was covered in his navy-and-green flannel. Because she belongs with you.
Guilt spiked in the center of his chest, but he told it to go to hell. She’d assured him that she trusted him. She’d reminded him that she knew what she wanted. He couldn’t regret what had just happened if he tried.
Nothing had felt more right than sliding into her, watching her eyes sink shut and her mouth drop open. Unless it was the moment she’d wrapped her legs around his back and scratched her fingernails across his shoulders. That’d felt pretty damn right, too.
“I thought I was too full for that sort of acrobatic workout.” She emitted a throaty laugh. “Guess not.”
He crossed to where she sat and folded her against him, moving the collar of the shirt to the side to place a kiss on her neck. “Were you cold?”
“I was, but with you here I’m not. If we were in your room or my apartment, I’d still be naked. Is that incentive enough for you to take me indoors?”
As if he needed more incentive than her cries coating his ear canal as she came. Although, his bedroom held memories that could thwart his plan to win her back. He frowned, considering. She’d seen the ranch, been inside the house, chatted with his sisters. And then there was the loft. Aubrey hadn’t had a memory that would endanger this version of them...yet.
She leaned back against his chest and let out a sigh. He knew her sounds—even after not being with her for years, he still knew them.
“Something on your mind other than round two?” He hugged her waist, and she held his hands, toying with his fingers in silence before she finally answered him.
“Are you planning on getting married?”
His nose in her hair, he inhaled, unsure how to respond.
“We’ve had to have talked about it. Humor me, and remind me why we’ve been dating since the age of sixteen and haven’t progressed past sex in the loft.” She twisted her neck to look over her shoulder at him. “That wasn’t a complaint, by the way.”
He could lie and say they’d been too busy to talk about it, or he could tell her the truth, which was that they’d been engaged once, but she’d changed her mind. Vic had promised to do what was best for her in this situation, and in no way was reminding her of a tumultuous time ten years ago helpful to her recovery. When he answered, he let his reply hover in between truth and fiction.
“We’ve talked about marriage. Like moving in together, the timing wasn’t right for us.” He didn’t think he’d ever spoken truer words about his and Aubrey’s relationship.
After they’d broken up, he’d been angry. He couldn’t fathom why she’d throw away everything they’d built. He’d known in his gut she’d never find someone better than him. When he’d returned to the world of dating, he’d had a similar epiphany—he’d never found anyone like Aubrey.
The women he’d dated had been beautiful, intelligent, self-starters. Sleeping with them had rewarded him with physical relief, but he’d never found the connection he’d had with Aubrey. Over the years, it’d become painfully clear he’d never find the solace he’d found in her. Aubrey was his own personal Halley’s Comet. Once in a lifetime, and he’d never believed he’d be lucky enough to have her come around again.
When he’d propositioned her at the Silver Saddle, the ache in his chest had been unbearable. The morning after their incredible night together, he’d walked away, reminding himself of his promise to her. He’d told her it’d be like the sex had never happened. He’d meant it at the time. Having her back in his life and knowing there’d be no happy ending for them would be sheer torture.
Now he was in some sort of bizarre limbo. She hadn’t forgotten the night they spent together, but her mind had altered the circumstances surrounding it. She didn’t remember their agreement. She’d woven their steamy night between the sheets with the people they’d been prebreakup. Back when she’d been his world, and he’d been hers.
Until she’d gone to college.
He used to tell himself she’d changed when she went to school, but now he understood that she’d become more of who she already was. She cared about others, revered education and was warm and patient with everyone she encountered. He’d admired her abilities and her intelligence, but he’d also been blind.
He’d been solely focused on himself—on his legacy. His father was the king, the ranch his castle. Victor Jr. saw Vic as the prince who’d be crowned after he retired. Vic had been raised to believe that he knew better than anyone—his mother and grandmother, his sisters and Aubrey included—what was best for the Grandin family. He’d never stopped to question if that was true or not.
To him, Aubrey’s interest in graduate school hadn’t been about her pursuing her dreams, it’d been about delaying each rite of passage on the way to his ultimate goal: inheriting the ranch. When she’d told him she wasn’t ready to be a mother, he’d had a vision of his future kingdom crumbling. He didn’t have a backup plan. His father hadn’t asked his opinion about the ranch or his future but had simply told Vic what was expected of him. And Vic, in his attempt to appease his father and step up and be the man he’d been tasked with becoming, had argued with Aubrey and had ultimately lost her.
He’d failed at strong-arming her into doing what he wanted. Was it any wonder she’d decided not to marry him? Had their roles been reversed, he never would have stayed with her. He wouldn’t have changed his lifelong goals for anyone.
He’d been so shortsighted.
Thankfully, Vic wasn’t a cocky twenty-one-year-old anymore. He was a grown man navigating the choppy waters of real life. With the threat of losing the ranch his family treasured, and possibly losing Aubrey for a second time.
She impatiently tapped her fingers on his hand before unhooking his arms from her waist and moving away from him. She stood and pulled on her jeans, her movements jerky.
“Where are you going?”
