“Eliza, I want you with me everywhere.”
She grins, that radiant smile that first caught my attention in the permit office. “Okay then. But I’d rather wear pants.”
“Whatever you wish, Storm.”
As if on cue, Chiron lets out a contented bray, and we both start laughing.
20
Eliza
I wake up to the weight of Reed’s arm across my waist. For a moment, I’m disoriented—this is my bed, my room, but there’s a warm male body pressed against my back and the smell of hay clinging to both of us.
Then I remember. The storm, the barn, Reed’s hands all over me and the way he looked at me like I was something precious instead of damaged.
Reed shifts, his breath warm against my neck. “Morning,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.
“Morning.” I turn in his arms, staring at his disheveled hair and the stubble shadowing his jaw. In the daylight, last night feels almost surreal. “How’s your ankle?”
“Better.” He flexes his foot experimentally. “Sore, but I think I can put weight on it.”
“Good.” I study his face, looking for signs of regret or awkwardness, but all I see is the same warmth from last night. “So…”
“So.” He smiles, and it’s so real, so happy I almost don’t know what to do about it. This man is happy to wake up beside me.
We stare at each other for a moment, and I feel the familiar urge to bolt, to make some excuse about morning chores and disappear before things get complicated. But Reed brushes the hair from my face, and the gesture is so gentle I stay put.
“I want to keep doing this,” he says quietly. “Not just the sex stuff, though that was incredible. But this. Us. Whatever we’re building here.”
Relief floods through me at his directness. “Me too. But we have to be really clear about everything. I’m not used to this.”
“No games,” he says. “Just honesty.”
I trace a finger along his torso, remembering how I kissed him there last night. A bunch of times. I hum happily. “Then honestly… I need to go check on the animals.”
Reed nods, but when he tries to sit up, he winces. “Shit. I can’t tell if I messed up my body falling on the ice or hauling bales of hay with you.” He flexes and rotates his wrists. “No wonder you’re so buff.”
I huff but appreciate that he notices things I’m proud of about myself. Like my muscles. “Stay here,” I tell him, already pulling on clothes. “Rest your ankle. I’ll be quick.”
“Eliza—”
“You helped me yesterday when you could barely walk. Let me take care of you for once.”
He opens his mouth to argue, then seems to think better of it. “Fine, but if you’re not back in twenty minutes, I’m coming after you.”
“Deal.”
I pull on boots and my coat, then step outside into a world transformed by snow. Everything is white and pristine, the storm having dumped at least eight inches overnight. My truck is buried, but I can see tire tracks in the road where the plows have been through.
The animals are fine—their water bowls didn’t even freeze, probably thanks to the heat Reed and I generated in the barn last night. I smile, remembering how good everything felt with him, how he didn’t rush me, but I came fast and hard for him, anyway.
Chiron interrupts my daydream with an accusatory bray—apparently I’m late with the breakfast pellets—but the goats seem content with their warm barn and full hay nets.
“Sorry, guys,” I tell them as I distribute fresh water and morning grain. “I was… occupied.”
Ursula gives me a look that suggests she knows exactly what I was occupied with, which is ridiculous, because she’s a goat. But there’s definitely judgment in those yellow eyes.
I’m back at the house in fifteen minutes, stomping snow off my boots before heading upstairs. I can hear the shower running, which means Reed ignored my advice to rest.
