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Her release pulses around my shaft, and I fall apart.
My dick surges and spills the most powerful fucking orgasm since the last one I had with this siren. Every new time with her is more perfect than before. I drive into her, nearly losing control of my legs. They’re weak, fucking fuzzy, my vision goes blurry, and I come so damn hard I almost lose myself to the other side.
But just when I think I’ll crumble into oblivion, my woman takes my mouth with hers. And when we kiss, her lips still slightly cool from an entire morning in the November mountain air, I thank the Lord this is actually real. That after all these years, I’m here, back in my hometown, with the most genuine woman in the world. It’s moments like these I believe I’m not such a bad guy after all because karma is on my side.
I help Joey back on her feet which must be absolutely frozen on the cold, concrete barn floor. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”
“For you? Boy, I’ll be fulfilling my crazy fantasies for years to come. This one wasn’t yours.” She heads toward the bathroom but tosses me a sassy smirk over her shoulder. “It was mine.”
When she’s dressed again, I insist I get her something to eat because even though my mom would have given Joey a schedule, she isn’t keeping tabs on her. My cowgirl surely has an appetite now, and I can’t stand the thought of her working the rest of the day without food in her belly.
I drive her over to CCs. The rest of the Canyon—as far as Jolie and I are concerned—will see our lunch as a meet-up not a date. Because we’re friends, right?
All the way over, I think again about how she’s here on my ranch. About her job. About how even though we disappear into perfection when we’re together, our imperfect lives are always there waiting for us when we open our eyes.
And I want to fix that for her.
At the counter, I order her a tuna melt without even asking, recalling it as her favorite. When I glance back at her to confirm, her wide approving smile is everything. It’s what she always had when we were younger. Unless there’s tomato soup. I love the predictability. The stability… home.
We sit and eat, and I have to admit, I’m famished, since I never actually went to Santa Fe and I could have gone for that imaginary burrito. CCs is comfort food for us both. Or I hope it is because I’m about to dive into some uncomfortable conversation. I want to get to the bottom of what’s eating Jolie up and why she’s at Moon Ridge.
I take a drink. “As much as I’m sure my mom loveshaving you around, and I’d love to have you at Moon Ridge anytime I come home, I’m still curious…”
Her gaze is fixed on the ceiling. I know she doesn’t want to talk, but she has to.
“… maybe you need to talk about things, Joey?”
She sips through her straw and keeps it in her mouth, mumbling. “Maybe.”
“You know you can talk to me. No judgment.”
“I know.” She lowers her eyes, and immediately her aura shrinks.
Jolie has always radiated, and every time I bring this up, it’s like watching a sunset fade into black.
How could I have let myself lose touch with her all these years? I could have been supporting her all this time instead of having to face the now-hollow expression in her eyes while she considers telling me what’s going on.
“Tell me why being a vet is just fine. And why are you really working at Moon Ridge?”
“Geez. Going for the jugular. Where’s the segue, Dane?” She sits back and crosses her arms.
“A Mento for your thoughts? I’d buy the whole damn company to know what’s up with you.”
Somehow, my comment makes her smile, but it quickly flattens when she decides to open up. “I thought it was the euthanasia. That’s what I thought it was mainly, but these past few days, I realize it’s not even that so much. It’s not like I put healthy animals to sleep. It’s the up-and-down constant rollercoaster of fake or real emotion… I don’t know which way is up anymore. One minute I’m happy for a birth, the next I’m giving someone a sympathy hug. It’s fucked. And I might be able to manage the emotions if I had a minute to myself, but it’s like I’m on call twenty-four seven.”
In all my years and all the people I’ve met through teams and otherwise, I’ve never come across someone as sincere and direct as Jolie Hunter. She was born without a filter, and even though her candid nature could land her in the doghouse sometimes, it is what I love most about her. There’s something wonderful about being with a person who wouldn’t—hell, couldn’t—lie to you.
“I can see how that would be especially hard for you. For an authentic person like you…” I take off my cap and scratch my head. “It would be hard for anyone… but especially you.”
She reaches out to touch my hand. “Thank yo—” She rips her hand away and glances around to see if anyone has seen her do it. “Thank you. Colt said he’d support me no matter what, but I don’t think he gets it. He’s able to do what has to be done in any situation. He has morals and everything but he can change his colors and still feel like the mere fact of being a chameleon means he’s grounded. Me? I’m just… me. I’m not good at being composed; it actually takes a lot out of me. But he was right about one thing. I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with small animals very often. Thank God Colt put me off opening an actual practice here. Guess he read me pretty well in the end.”
“You can handle anything?—”
“No I can’t.” She dips her straw up and down, staring at it like she wants to dive into the pint glass of Coke. “I’m not classy and professional like Colt is.”
Putting herself down is not an option in front of me. “I’ve always admired how frank you are. I think it’s a superpower. You take it for granted how easy it is to be honest. Just like Colt thinks his strengths are normal, but they’re not. Maybe you should lean into it instead of shying away.”
“Unfortunately, having a mask on is just part of theprofession, Ashton. Hockey players wouldn’t understand. You get to fly off the handle and express yourselves however you damn well want. You have no idea how many clients I’ve wanted to slug and couldn’t. The people are the real assholes most of the time.”
