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My chest physically hurt at the sight of her. Dark blonde hair strewn every which way. Her whole body was covered but I could see the outline of her curves that I wanted too badly to feel. Her breaths were slow, even, relaxed. Like she was content and happy to be fast asleep right there in my bed.
I’d always been intrigued by this girl, even when all I knew of her were the stories her brother told me. When I met her in person yesterday, I could have sworn that some sort of cupid sent her to me.
I don’t believe in love at first sight by any means. But I’ve never seen a woman so smart, kind, and gorgeous at the same time. Add the car ride to the bar on my lap, her taking off my belt in the middle of a crowd of people, and then her sleeping in my bed?
When it comes to Blythe Farrow, I’m good as gone.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
As if perfectly on cue to ruin my day, I feel my phone vibrate and see that it’s another unknown number. I get this call, never from a traceable source, at least once every day. Sometimes more often than that.
I used to answer every once in a while, but I never stayed on the line for too long. I don’t want them to be able to track my location. They want to dig up the ugly parts of my past. But refuse to let them.
I’ve known from day one that moving to Texas was a risky move. Not as risky as staying in New York though. My so-called father made sure of that. Fucking crook. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough once I realized the situation that he’d put our family in. The corner he backed me into. The lies he told me.
It changed the entire trajectory of my life when I finally realized that the life I was living wasn’t the one that I wanted anymore. I had the power and the resources to get out, so I did.
I just wish it wasn’t continuing to affect me even thousands of miles away and years later. The shadow of that previous life threatens to come into the light all too often. And I’ve been fighting like hell to keep it hidden.
I tighten my fists inside of my leather work gloves and close my eyes. It’s ironic that I left because I wanted to be a better and more honest man than my father, yet here I am keeping secrets like my life depends on it. Maybe it does.
My unwillingness to get close to people has made that possible. Something about Blythe makes me want to throw that philosophy right out the window. I’d love nothing more than to be close to her.Insanelyclose.
* * *
By the time I make it back to the bunkhouse, it’s a ghost town.
Normally I’d enjoy the quietness that this time of day usually brings, but I find myself wishing there was a certain laughing blonde skipping around putting a smile on everyone’s face. Mainly mine.
Seeing as how it’s Saturday night, I’m sure the other guys have some sort of plans again. They don’t always stick around on the weekends like I do. At least half of the time, I make sure all of the animals are fed and the rest of the chores on the ranch are taken care of while they trot around town with friends or family doing whatever it is social people do.
Well, I’d hardly consider Heston to be social. Not sure where he goes exactly.
There’s a back door to the bunkhouse that leads right into a mudroom. I don’t want to trudge my dirty boots and jeans all over the living room, so I enter through here instead of the front door.
Once in the mudroom, I strip everything off but my briefs. We keep an old washer and dryer back here so I throw my clothes in, toss in a detergent pod, and start the load.
I’d like to take a long hot shower before I open a beer and grab my computer to do some end-of-the-year ranch bookkeeping. But I stop short of my bathroom when I see steam rolling out from under the door.
I walk as quietly as I can to get close and press my ear up against it. Just barely, I can make out a sweet humming sound and the spray of the water. I furrow my brows. Looking around to investigate, I see Blythe’s phone and a pillow with a pink satin case on my bed. An entirely too-large purple water bottle sits on my nightstand. A black hair scrunchie is on top of my dresser.
I smirk and huff out a breathy laugh. Shaking my head, I turn back to the door and slowly turn the knob so as not to make a sound.
One foot after the other, I carefully walk toward the shower and stop anytime I think I may have made too loud of a step. It smells like a meadow of wildflowers in here. The floral scent wafts out of the sides of the shower curtain and I inhale deeply.
The groan that escapes me is a mistake because Blythe gasps and a plastic bottle falls. Realizing she probably doesn’t know who’s in the room with her, I clear my throat.
“There’s a guest bathroom you know.”
An adorable squeak rings out and yet another plastic bottle crashes down. Just how many products did she bring in there with her?
“Umm…” A nervous giggle. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t be back until after dark sometime.”
“Mm-hmm.” I cross my arms and lean my hips back on the edge of the sink opposite the shower.
“I’ll just… well… can you give me five more minutes? I have to rinse out my hair mask.”
“I think not,” I answer. It’s a rush flustering her like this. I want to pull back the curtain just to see the flush in her cheeks. Maybe to see a few other things too.
