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“Hm?”
“…Are you still mad about today?” she asked quietly. “I’m sorry I did it.”
“I was,” I replied. “And to be fully honest, I still am a little. I wish you could have told me or someone, Sam. Any of the guys would have driven you out there.”
“I know,” she replied.
“Promise me you won’t do it again,” I asked. “If you need to go somewhere, tell me or Ben, okay.”
“I promise,” she replied, then dug into her food. “Is Miss Everett goin’ to come back?”
I stilled. “She might pop in a time or two; why?”
“I like her,” Sam shrugged. “I wonder if she can still ride a horse.”
I closed my lips as the memory of her riding me presented itself front and center. Instead of sayingyes, she can; Isaid, “Well, when she comes back, we’ll have to ask her.”
* * *
That night, at about ten, when I was showered and ready for bed, I got a text…from Rayna.
Despite all my reservations, common sense, and doubt, I trust you…so yes.
“Yes…to what exactly?” I asked myself before I pressed the call button.
“Hello?” Rayna said.
“I need to know what you mean by yes,” I said, gazing out the window to the gibbous moon rising in the east. “Yes to Sam, yes to me…or both?”
“…Both,” she replied, a bit breathlessly.
Pleasure and relief flowed through me like a river breaking its banks. “I’m beyond pleased to hear that.”
“I’m surprised you’re awake at this hour,” she replied. “I’d intended for you to see the message tomorrow morning.”
“Most nights, I don’t go to bed until nearly midnight,” I replied. “When I’m done with the boys on the ranch, I head to my office to do work on the administrative end, but today…today was not the usual.”
“I’d say,” she replied. “How is Sam holding up?”
“She’s come around,” I replied, “And speaking of Sam, she likes you. Would you mind coming back tomorrow so you can talk?”
“Sure,” she replied, then her tone turned sultry. “…are you sure only Sam wants to talk to me?”
“Oh, Sam wants time with you, but after that—” I rolled my neck. “—it’s our playtime.”
Stunned silence echoed from the other half of the line until she muttered, “You might be the death of me.”
I laughed, and she chuckled. “Good night, John…sweet dreams.”
“Oh, they will be,” 3I replied, closing the call and dropping the phone unto its charging pad. For once in a long while, I could not wait for the next day to come.
* * *
It took almost everything inside me not to steal Rayna away from the moment she stepped foot into my house, but I was stronger than that. I’d waited years to find a woman like her; what was so horrible about waiting a few hours?
Oh, I’d gone down to greet her when she arrived, greeted her, and sent her with Sarah to Sam’s room before I’d escaped to my office for some necessary video calls. I was glad my PA, Ewan, somewhere in Houston where my business's “official” headquarters sat, was taking notes. My attention was squarely on Rayna and the private moments we’d have for ourselves later.
“…and the profits are up,” Ewan said, and I dearly hoped this was the end of this damned meeting. “In about five minutes, all stakeholders will get an email about the specific breakdowns in the profits and all the particulars.”
