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“Thank you, Jacob. I appreciate you setting that up for me.”
Another awkward silence followed.
“Are you driving?” he finally asked.
“Yes, totally driving. I’m not wasting a single dollar on first class, and no way am I flying coach. I just need to pack. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Harmony, you are thirty hours away by car. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Oh. Then I am definitely flying. Later, cousin.”
I hung up my phone and lost myself in images of gorgeous ranch men wearing tight jeans with no shirts. This was going to be so much better than Rome.
Now Italy was a place I had a wardrobe for, but a ranch? Not even. My parents would have burned them long ago, along with the cosplay outfits I used to parade around in. Apparently, dressing up and pretending to be someone else was not an acceptable hobby. I raided my closet and found one pair of designer jeans, several yoga pants, and one pair of track pants left over from high school. Then I found some cute dresses that were short, lacey, and strappy, and what I imagined sexy women might wear on the ranch. Finding appropriate footwear was even worse! I had designer boots, sandals, and an array of heels, none of which were ranch style. I found one pair of ballet flats in the very back of my closet and had to blow off the dust before adding them to my suitcase.
Staring around my room, I wondered if I should take anything else? I had no idea when or if I would ever return. The thought made me sad, but also a little excited, as I would finally be out from under my parents’ domineering control.
Most of my life was on my phone or stored in the cloud, but I did have a few mementos from a long-ago childhood where a few happy memories still existed. I pulled the cigar box from its hiding spot under my bed and flipped open the lid.
Little trinkets and toys I’d salvaged from the garbage where my mother had the maid toss them were nestled inside. A lucky rabbit paw on a chain. A plastic compass from a birthday party, a mini-Rubik’s cube, an opened packet of Popeye candy cigarettes, and a few family photos.
I pulled out one of the candy cigarettes and pretended to smoke. Closing the lid, I added the box into my suitcase. I grabbed a few of my favorite naughty books—that’s what I called the erotic romance I found and couldn’t get enough of.
If I took those, then I’d better take my toy collection. Reading those and not getting off would be a nightmare. Unless I found that handsome cowboy right away and my nights suddenly filled with passionate sex.
Thinking of sex reminded me of the incident with Gray Remington. I felt a little bad about lying and probably getting him fired. But I couldn’t help myself, and it was the only way to get his attention and save my own tail from the wrath of the school, I justified to myself. Still, as I closed my bedroom door for probably the last time, I wondered what would become of the gorgeous lawyer/teacher who had captured my interest.
Chapter 3
Gray
The relief I felt as I pulled up to the gates of Rawhide Ranch was palpable. I’d been aware of the steady release of tension from my shoulders the further away from New York I traveled.
Once I got past the noise and pollution of the larger cities like New York and Chicago, the drive became relaxing instead of white knuckled on the steering wheel. Upon reaching North Dakota, I turned off the AC and opened the windows, inhaling the fresh air in great, deep breaths like a man who had lacked clean oxygen for too long. And it was true. I hadn’t really breathed since the last time I was at Rawhide two years ago. I took in the fresh, outdoorsy scents; even the less savory ones when I passed large tracts of land with too many cows and horses to count were better than the smell of city pollution. I belonged in the country. Maybe the whole mess that had me moving across the country and changing the entire trajectory of my future was actually a blessing in disguise.
I’d never driven much beyond the eastern states. My time had always been very limited to quick weekend trips, and it was on my last trip to Rawhide that I truly explored and connected with who I was deep down. Meeting a variety of submissives and Littles opened up my heart to possibilities and the kind of woman I wanted by my side in the future. Master Derek, the owner and director of the Ranch, had carried on the tradition of creating and maintaining a safe environment where all those under his care could thrive. And it wasn’t just the people seeking asylum, but also the staff. After having met several of them during my trip, I’d caution to guess that everyone at Rawhide was seeking asylum in some way, and now that would include me.
After the debacle with Harmony Carrington, I needed to be in a place where there were strict rules to follow, and clear expectations of what would happen to those who chose not to follow them. My life had been so orderly and structured as the only golden child of my rich philanthropic parents, and my weekend trips to Rawhide were an escape to be myself, but still provided that structure that I craved in my life.
What happened with Harmony had been a huge mistake. I should have never let her get to me like I did, but it was an eye-opener for me for so many reasons. Firstly, because I realized I could no longer hide from being myself, and hoped by being at Rawhide I, too, could find a way to bind my two halves together. Secondly, Harmony Carrington had been haunting me for the past two thousand miles. There was an undeniable attraction there. Despite all the crazy sassiness she exhibited, her soul had called to mine in a way I’d never experienced before. Behind her facade I believed was a deeply wounded woman who required a lot of patience and direction. Thinking of her with another Daddy-Dom really bothered me. But after what she’d pulled, throwing me under the bus with a twinkle in her eye, was beyond forgiveness. It was the act of a complete and utter brat who was used to getting her way no matter who she had to hurt to get it. That was the crux I struggled with: the hurt woman and the brat co-existing in the same person. I didn’t quite know what to do with that revelation because I’d left her and my old life behind for good. Perhaps I could use that experience and what I had learned through it to find my forever Little when the time was right.
Forget her, Gray. She’s in New York and you’re here for a new start.
After checking in at the gate, the long drive to the main house was a new level of peace. I could feel the pervading essence of rightness in the very land I drove upon, and the atmosphere surrounding me.
I hadn’t expected to see Sadie and Derek outside on the extensive front porch that stretched the entire length of the building as I pulled up, but it was great to see them. Derek sat in one of the wooden rocking chairs, his legs outstretched, and Sadie perched on his lap. The sun was shining, and the spring air was cool. It was the perfect day to sit outside. Although it was completely updated, the porch with its swings and large basket chairs was reminiscent of another time. It was easy to imagine the same setting one hundred and fifty years ago, the inhabitants looking for a cool place to seek shelter from the sun, women wearing long dresses and drinking from tall glasses filled with lemonade. I shook my head to clear the vision and stepped out of my vehicle.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” I said, as the couple stood and traversed the stairs to greet me.
“Welcome back!”
Sadie gave me a hug as Derek stood back, watching with a shrewd gaze. The type of gaze that had me feeling exposed, my soul naked. I hadn’t told him everything yet, and it was obvious his radar was pinging that not everything was hunky dory. The man had an uncanny way of reading people and situations.
Sadie pulled back and stood beside her husband. “How was your trip?”
“It matched my headspace. Getting out of New York was hectic and charged with negative thoughts. The further away I got, the better, until I arrived at your gates and felt the peace of this place thrumming through me.”
Sadie giggled. “Most people say it was good or bad. Have you ever thought about being a writer?”
