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“Just after 4.”
Her bottom lip pooches out and it tugs at my heart. “So early yet.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I need to get back to the ranch and get ready for my day before the sun comes up.” I always start my day long before sunrise, but in this moment, I’m ducking out a little earlier than necessary from Dolly, hoping to get in before anyone else is awake. I don’t love the idea of doing the walk of shame in front of my employees—and even worse, my family members. I feel guilty about it. It’s not that I’m ashamed of spending the night with Dolly, but this is a string I’m not ready for my family to pull at.
“Okay,” her words trail off, her eyes growing heavy with sleep again.
“Go back to sleep. I’ll see you Thursday for our hike.” I lean down, kissing her forehead. My hand lingers on her chest, feeling her breath grow deep as she falls back to sleep.
I let my mind wander as I drive over to my house on the ranch. I enjoy these peaceful mornings, alone with my thoughts. My brain wants to try to figure out what this means for Dolly and me: I wonder how I’m going to make this work, and I feel guilt for not telling her about Texas. But I push those thoughts aside, letting myself bask in the happiness that fills me for the first time in a long while.
After our first time together last night, neither of us could get enough. I spent what felt like hours exploring her body with my fingers and tongue, dragging my lips over every inch of her, trying to memorize her. Nothing about our interaction felt awkward or uncomfortable. We explored each other like we’d been intimate for years—like it was natural for us to be wrapped around each other’s naked bodies.
We didn’t discuss if it would happen again, or if itshouldhappen again. I think we both just wanted to live in the moment, finally allowing the tension—which has been building for years—to boil over.
I pull into my driveway, the headlights sparkling across the field that’s covered in frost. The coolness of fall has replaced the warmth of summer, a slight chill running through my body as I park my truck and make my way inside. After taking a quick shower, I brew some coffee and fry up a few eggs with toast.
The sun won’t rise for another two hours, so I take my time eating some breakfast at the kitchen table. I’ve eaten at this table alone for a few years now, ever since I moved into this house. It’s never hit me how lonely and quiet it is until now. I imagine what it would be like to look across the table and see Dolly’s smiling face looking back at me. An image of a toddler on her lap flashes through my brain and I pause, my fork halfway to my mouth. I drop it back down to the plate, nausea hitting me. That was Dean’s dream: a happy home and a family with Dolly. I have no business making it mine.
I shove back from the table, leaving the half-eaten food on the plate. Refilling my coffee thermos, I grab my hat and coat and make my way across the pasture to the barn.
* * *
“Donutsandmy favorite oat milk latte?” She smiles, climbing in the truck as I close the door behind her. “Two sweet treats in a week! You’re not taking me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me, are you?” She eyes me, taking a big bite of a glazed donut.
“No, only planned on maiming you and leaving you for the bears and mountain lions.” I back out of the driveway, driving toward the trailhead. The entire way there, she’s laughing, telling me a story, singing along with the radio in a very off-key manner that has me laughing, or asking me the most insane questions in a game ofWould You Rather?She loved playing this game when we were younger, coming up with the most hilarious situations and forcing us to choose.
“If you had to—like,had to,” she emphasizes like we haven’t played this game a hundred times over the last decade, “would you rather have toes for fingers or no elbows?”
“What kind of question . . . I swear, I don’t think you’ve ever repeated one of these crazy scenarios you’ve dreamed up over the years. That’s impressive.”
“You have to choose.”
“Oh boy, okay, let me think . . . if I had toes for fingers, I’d still have toes on my feet, right?” She nods her head yes. “Mm-kay, well, if I can’t bend my elbows or don’t have elbows, I can’t do my job, so I guess toe hands it is.”
“That would look so funny, but I agree with you. Now you ask one.”
“Hmm.” I think about it for a second. “Okay, would you rather never have pastries again or never have coffee again?”
“Ugh,” she gasps, clutching at her chest like I’ve offended her. “That is an absolutely awful situation. You’re mean.” She laughs, groaning dramatically like this is an actual real-life situation and her answer will determine the outcome. “No pastri—no, no coffee. Shit, I can’t decide! No pastries, I’m sticking with that. I feel like if I didn’t have coffee, I’d be a miserable shell of a human.”
“I’d concur; I’ve seen you without coffee.” I shake my head and shiver, prompting her to lean over and playfully smack my arm.
“Oh, I’ve got a good one! Would you rather travel back in time or teleport somewhere?”
I don’t have to think for a second to know the answer to that. I look over at her, but she’s poking around in the donut box.
I’d travel back in time to the second I met you, and I’d tell you right then that I think you’re the most beautiful, exciting, alluring woman I’ve ever met. I’d tell you that although we don’t know each other yet, I can promise you we’re meant to be together. That you will never find someone who will love you the way I will. That no matter what happens in life, I’ll be by your side.
“I, uh, I’d teleport for sure. Sometimes I’m really lazy and I just don’t have the energy to go back downstairs to the kitchen for a beer, so it would be pretty nice to just—poof!—be in front of the fridge.” I smile, hoping it hides the sadness I’m feeling for myself for not being man enough to tell her how I really feel.
“Laaaame.” She smiles widely, rolling her eyes for a second. “I’d teleport to the moon . . . or Mars, just to check it out and say I’ve been somewhere nobody else has been.”
“Now that sounds like a much better idea than mine, I’ll agree.” I slow the truck down, pulling off the main road onto the small winding gravel road that leads all the way back to the trail. It’s hidden—so much so that only locals ever hike back here, and not very often. In all the times I’ve been here, I think I’ve only ever seen two other people. I didn’t tell her which hike we were doing. I wanted it to be a surprise, and by the look on her face, it is.
“Oh my God,” she looks over at me, “I haven’t been up here since we were teenagers.”
We used to come up here with Dean, and sometimes my brother and cousins. There’s a tiny alpine lake we’d swim and fish in. We’d bring up our small jon boat and hang out on the water all day doing nothing really. Sometimes we’d bring a tent and camp up here.
