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His words are somehow both clear and cloudy—like I can hear them, but my brain is trying to trick me into believing they can’t be true, that he’s not really saying them. Or that he can’t mean them.
“Porter?” My name a question on his lips, soft and unsure.
It feels like I’m being given everything I’ve ever wanted—Sully and to live here, on this ranch that feels entwined with my damn soul on a level I’ve never been able to understand.
“This is yours,” is what finally comes out of my mouth. He could have had this, and he didn’t want it without me? The man who’s held a grudge against his family his whole life, all because of a rumor his daddy used to tell him about? Looking at him now, it feels like it was all a waste, the anger dissipating some.
“It’s ours. Maybe it was always meant to be ours.”
And I want that, but more than anything, I want him.
I grab ahold of his face and smash our lips together. My tongue presses in, Sully giving me free rein the way he always does. I feel like I’m flying, like I could float away, the tension from earlier ground into dust and drifting away on the wind.
“Is that a yes? You’re gonna stay here with me?” he asks when I press our foreheads together, both our hats having hit the ground.
“I always wanna be with you…here or anywhere else. Are you sure, though? About your parents?”
“Yes. I’m tired of hiding. I want you, and that’s never going to change. I’m not ashamed of that.”
Our lips pull together again, this kiss slow and unhurried.
A few minutes later, we’re lying on the concrete foundation, looking up at the stars. He points out the constellations again, and then we talk about the house and make plans for a future I never thought I would have.
It’s late when we get back to the ranch, the house and the bunk both dark. I’m not surprised everyone went to sleep. I can’t help wondering how things went with Randy after we left. What it’s going to be like in the bunkhouse with him tonight.
“Come home with me. And this time, I don’t want you to leave.”
Nerves race down my spine. “You don’t gotta rush. I’m not sure that’s a good idea…risking getting caught leaving your room in the morning when we haven’t talked to your parents or the guys first.”
“I’ve loved you since I was a kid, Port. We’re not rushing.”
My heart grows or my chest shrinks or something. All I know is my ribs don’t feel strong enough to hold it in. “Jesus, baby. I love you too.”
We stumble into his house together, slowly strip each other out of our clothes. Sully nods toward the shower, and we climb in, washing each other and exploring each other in an unrushed way we haven’t had a lot of experience with.
When I push inside him later, it’s desperate but also unhurried—gentle kisses, long, sweeping touches, the hot squeeze of his body like home.
We come together, in deep breaths, sweaty bodies, and whispered words.
Sully doesn’t let me go, tangling himself around me like he’s afraid if he releases me, I’ll be gone.
But instead, I snuggle into him, take this thing we’ve always wanted and never had, before drifting off to sleep.
* * *
I wake up a few minutes before Sully’s alarm goes off. Rising before the sun is entrenched in me, my body automatically telling me when I need to rise. His mouth is partly open in this cute way I can’t stop staring at. My pulse does an annoying dance, and I kinda hate myself for it but can’t at the same time. He’s…fuck, this man means the world to me.
Before I end up keeping us in bed all day long, I roll over to get up.
“That time already?” Sully asks.
“Just about. I figured I’d get out of here early and head over to the bunkhouse to get dressed.”
He leans over and kisses my back. “Mmm, wish we could stay here…you need clothes in my place.”
“Slow down, cowboy. You need to tell your parents first,” I tease.
“I will.”
