She gasped as he found her most sensitive places and ran her hands over his chest and stomach, kneading his muscles and skin like clay. He remembered this, too. What she wanted. What she liked. Country worked to keep his lungs refilling with air as she slid her leg between his and arched against him, squeezing out the last millimetres of space.
“I forgot how long your arms are,” she panted as Country rolled her to the side and wrapped around her, not willing to let go even if she insisted on changing the angle.
“It helps that you’re fun-sized.”
Jenna laughed, then sucked in a frantic breath as he reached farther. “I’m going to die, Gentry.”
“Right now?” His voice hummed against her cheek, sending her into a near frenzy.
“Dead. Right now. If you—” Jenna groaned and scraped her hands through his hair, then dropped rough kisses over his jaw until she reached his ear. “Is there anything I should know?”
Country shook his head. “I’m clean. Got tested a few weeks ago.”
Jenna’s tongue flitted along the lobe of his ear. “Me, too. Can I paint you another picture?” Her words were rough. Ragged.
Country tensed as she forced her hand between them, flattening her palm against his stomach, then pushing it below his navel. Tingles shot down both his legs, stripping the smug smile from his face. He couldn’t answer. Could barely grunt in reply.
“I don’t see you having to wear condoms. Ever.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jenna woke to light streaming through the slats of the blinds and reached for Country. The bed next to her was empty. Panic momentarily gripped her until she remembered she was in his bed, not hers. He couldn’t escape as easily as last time. Her eyes immediately found the nightstand, and just like before, there was a note. She contorted her body to reach for it and unfolded the paper.
Morning, love. Off to do chores. Be back as soon as I can. Made you eggs and sausage if you're hungry.
- C
(P.S. - Don't go anywhere)
Jenna grinned and placed the note back on the nightstand as emotions made a chemical soup in her midsection. Last night had been incredible—more than incredible. She wanted to shout the lyrics of every cheesy love song from Country's rooftop, all while the clarity of morning made her curl inward. Was Country still sure? Had he woken this morning and wondered if he'd made the right choice? Had he been satisfied? It had been over a decade since they'd last slept together, and Country had learned some new tricks.
Jenna sighed just thinking about it, then lay back on the pillows and stretched her legs between the soft cotton sheets. She wanted him back here. Now. But, recognizing that wasn't an option at the moment, she dragged herself out of bed and found her clothes. Country had rescued them from their pile on the floor and draped them over the arm of a chair sitting in the corner. She considered for a moment putting on a pair of Country's boxer briefs since she still didn't have underwear then realized there was no chance of them fitting her.
But the idea of snooping in Country's drawers made her pause as she pulled her sweatshirt over her head. I still have a gift I haven't given you. I keep it in the nightstand by my bed. Jenna's heart began to race. Should she?—?
She took a step toward the nightstand and stopped, her toes curling against the smooth wooden floorboards. She shouldn't look. It would be rude to snoop in his private things. But then again . . . he had told her he had it and given her exact instructions on where it was kept . . .
Jenna forced herself to leave the bedroom and walked down the hall to the kitchen. His house was clean and minimalistic. She ran her hand along the knotty alder cabinet fronts and took in his farmhouse sink and round wooden table. Slender, trimmed willow branches sat in a white vase in the middle, and there was a plate with eggs and two country sausages on it along with a biscuit and a small pot of homemade jam. She wondered if Country kept a steady supply of biscuits at the house or if the rest of the Maddoxes knew she'd spent the night here. Probably the latter.
She grabbed the plate and warmed the food in the microwave then toasted the biscuit and slathered it up with butter from the dish on the counter before adding the jam. It was delicious. All of it. Jenna stared through the living room out the front bay window to the snow-covered fields across the road she'd driven up the night before. Could this be real? Could she actually be here in Country's house eating food that he made for her after spending one of the best nights of her life in his arms?
That empty place in her heart filled to the brim and overflowed, wrapping her in euphoric contentment as she finished her biscuit. As much as she tried to stay there—to sit in that feeling like she'd soaked in Anne's hot tub—her analytical mind wouldn't let her. The question, What comes next? whispered through her head in a round, like a children's song.
She thought back to her last conversation with Glen. The emails she'd inadvertently read. She hadn't received any responses from the emails she'd sent last weekend, but there were still plenty of options to be explored. Except now, the idea of finding a job at another network felt like ash in her mouth. Wouldn't it be exactly the same? The same hoops to jump through, the same game to play in the hopes of impressing the men at the top.
She was tired of that game. Especially when she was sitting there eating food that the man she loved had prepared for her before going out to work at the butt-crack of dawn. Why was she working so hard to impress people who didn't have her back?
Jenna stood and rinsed her dishes then loaded them in the dishwasher. She used the cloth on the counter to wipe the table, then wandered into the living room and read the spines of the books on Country's shelves. She grinned, noting the ones he'd had years ago were still there, mixed in with new titles. She breathed in the scent of chopped wood emanating from the stack next to the fireplace and fingered a small carved figurine of a fox on the mantle.
She'd been here less than twenty-four hours, and she already loved it. She loved that it was exactly him. Both the Gentry she knew back when and the man he'd become without her. A lump formed in her throat as at least one answer to her questions buried itself within her. She didn't want another day to go by where she wasn't in Country's life. Not another damn day.
Jenna grabbed a book on agrotourism from the shelf and whisked back into Country's bedroom. She propped up the pillows and set the book on the comforter, but before she climbed back under the sheets, her eyes snagged on the nightstand drawer. He'd told her where he kept it. He had to have known, or at least hoped, that she'd end up here sooner or later, so why tell her where the gift was hidden?
She reached for the handle and pulled open the drawer, her eyes so ravenous, she could barely process what she found inside. A notebook. A set of black pens. A small black box with gold edging.
Her pulse jumped. Only very specific things came in boxes like that. It was probably a necklace. A bracelet? Jenna's hand reached for it before she could decide whether it was a good idea or not. She pulled the box out and sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingertips along the seam. After drawing a shaky breath, she flipped the lid open.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
