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Jesse laughs and backs up onto the bed, grabbing a slice of bacon.
We enjoy a peaceful breakfast, him watching his news show and me scrolling through my news feed while I fill up on biscuits, jam, eggs, and bacon.
I don’t tell him what this feels like. It already feels like we’re an old married couple. A happy, old, married couple.
It makes me sad to leave.
“So I guess I should get out of your hair after breakfast. You probably need to prepare for the week,” I say while helping him tidy up the bedroom.
Jesse looks over at me as we fluff the duvet. “But we haven’t ridden horseback yet.”
“I’d love to go horseback riding, but I don’t have jeans or proper footwear or anything like that. Also…” I point to the window overlooking the deck, where the rain is pelting the glass.
He nods, thinking. “So, we skip to phase two. Stay in bed and catch me up onStar Wars.”
“Catch you up onStar Wars? What do you mean?”
He scratches his head. “I haven’t seen anything that came out sincePhantomMenace.”
That’s my Sunday decided.
Wrapped in blankets and donning Jesse’s freshly laundered flannel, we opt to watch our movie marathon in the den with the bigger TV.
I make the executive decision to skip episodes two and three and go straight to episodes seven through nine.
When that’s all through, I have to explain to my poor, overwhelmed cowboy about the movieRogue One,plus the shows:The Mandalorian, The Book of Boba Fett, Obi-Wan Kenobi,and half a dozen other spin-offs. We finish our day together withRogue One,which I secretly hoped for.
It’s a beautiful, lazy Sunday full of more kissing, talking, eating, and boning than I’ve ever done in one day. Hell, more than I’ve done in a month.
And sadly, it has to end because I open early on Mondays, and I have so much work to do to prepare.
Gingerly, I climb into his truck, noticing the pleasant soreness between my thighs. Jesse buckles me into the bench seat next to him for the drive back to town, one arm on the wheel and one around me. The safety of this is questionable, but who’s complaining?
We sit in his truck in Darling Creek, parked in the alleyway next to the building, and kiss like teenagers.
Jesse kisses me with lazy, sweet brushes of lips and tongue. “It’s the end of the date. Are you going to invite me upstairs?” Jesse teases.
Oh, I want to.
A part of me wants to urge him to come home with me and keep me company while I prepare the kitchen, make the dough, and do other tasks I don’t feel like doing today.
But a part of me is still overwhelmed by who this man is. Who am I to be so needy with this man with a thousand responsibilities?
“If I invite you upstairs, I won’t get any work done. And even if I had nothing to prepare, you’d end up staying with me and be late for your staff meeting in the morning,” I say.
“How’d you know I have a staff meeting on Monday morning?” Jesse asks.
I shrug. “I guessed. Seemed like a thing you would do.”
He arches a brow. “Oh, so I’m a corporate stiff?”
“Your words, not mine,” I laugh.
He kisses me hard. “There’s only one reason to call me stiff….”
I scoff and playfully punch his shoulder. “Don’t say it.”
“…and that’s my dick.” He’s so proud of that joke; all I can do is roll my eyes.
