“Sorry. I got distracted thinking about where I could move,” I lied, sort of. But I had to tread carefully. Here I was wishing this woman would be in my bed forever, and yet I was still homesick.
I had to find a way to merge my two worlds—my love of the farm, and this woman in this gargantuan city. Of course, it occurred to me that the person with a solution would be my mom. I made a mental note to go home for a day or two and discuss it with her.
Until then, though, I wanted to get inside Emerson.
Enough of this talking.
My hand found its way back down toward her core, making sure she was still more than ready. Panting in my ear, sweat dampening the back of her neck when I ran my other hand under her mane, she whispered my name in a silent plea. I didn’t wait, finding myself deep inside her, taking my time, making delicious morning love to Emerson.
Yep, I’d have to do whatever it took to merge both of my loves. Farm life and Emerson Bender.
“Gin fizz,” I shouted from the end of the bar, my elbows leaning on the hardwood.
“Cool it, buddy,” some douche said next to me.
I didn’t even look his way. Just brushed my hair out of my eyes and focused on my girl.
Instead of the cocktail I requested, Emerson set a beer in front of me. I winked and tossed a twenty on the bar, which she promptly shoved back at me.
“Hey, that’s not even what he ordered. Can I get some service?” the douche demanded.
“When the woman behind the bar is yours, you get your drink first.” I tipped my beer bottle toward him and moved to the back of the bar to catch a preseason football game on TV.
“Okay, caveman,” he shouted back at me.
His words didn’t bother me, although I’m sure Emerson was shooting daggers at me. I didn’t look back at him, not caring. No way was I going to let some pompous shit talk that way to me or her.
Despite it being Thursday, the bunny was running—or hopping—around, making a fool of himself. Going up to girls and dancing with them, shaking his tail. I rolled my eyes and went back to the game.
I didn’t like Emerson still coming over here to work, but if there was anything I’d learned from my mom, it’s that you can’t steamroll a woman. And I’d already talked Emerson into enough. So, I was here keeping an eye on her, bossing douches around.
If I had my way, next up for Em would be culinary school. She was loving being at the bakery this week. Imagine if she could do it long-term? I’d have to talk with her dad. He’d be game for it.
Her dad loved me after a few days. He got that I had her best interests at heart.
Damn straight. But what about mine?
Shit, I didn’t want to dwell on it. Luckily, my phone beeped, taking me away from my deep thoughts. Or not.
It was Bruce in a group text with Moira and me.
I rubbed my forehead and mumbled an obscenity or two. I hadn’t bothered to fill in either him or my mom on the status change with Moira, or the fact that I’d moved a chick into my grand digs.Okay, not a chick, but you know what I mean.
Hoping you can come home this weekend for our anniversary. I’m going to make a small dinner at the house. My ribs, which you know are damn edible.
My mom must be missing me. A wave of guilt washed over me, and I took a big gulp of my beer, reminding myself that she wanted me here.
Of course Bruce would include Moira. We hadn’t had a family occasion without her in years. But that was before my dad rode in on his white horse, wielding his sword—I mean,deep pockets—and demanded I move to New York.
I’ll be there.
That’s all I responded. I’d call Bruce tomorrow and explain my new living situation. Heck, my new feelings. I wanted to bring another girl home, and they needed to know about it.
Not sure how I would handle the Moira situation, but our relationship had run its course. Nobody successfully marries their high school sweetheart and lives to tell happy stories about it. Right?
Goddamn, I was even becoming cynical like a New Yorker.
“What’s up?”
