At some point, my eyes grew heavy and I slipped into a peaceful sleep. The weight of Dean’s body around mine grounds me, making my wild heart slow down. And for the first time in a long while, I’m happy to be trapped in one place. I wake to the sound of the shower running in the adjoining bathroom, the mid-morning sun painted the room in a perfect golden hue. Flipping back the covers, I stepped out of bed and padded softly across the rug towards the hallway. Our room was tucked in the back corner of the house. A hallway ran down to my left, opening up to the rising sun, so I took it. As the light grew brighter and my eyes adjusted, I peeked around the corner into a massive living room. Even though this house was just a rental for the week, every detail screamed Dean. The floors were a beautiful dark wood, covered mostly by simple area rugs. In the living room an oversized leather L-shaped sectional around a gorgeous wood coffee table. The edges are uncut, rough and jagged; much like the man in the other room. Everything about this space felt peaceful, it felt like a home. I make a mental note of all the small characteristics I’d add to my home one day if I ever chose tosettle down. I take my time getting to the attached kitchen, every few feet hangs a large black and white photo. One in particular catches my eye, and I have to step back a few feet just to take it in all at once. In the photo, a woman stands in front of a brick wall, a cowboy hat tipped low, covering her face with her denim vest unbuttoned. Her stomach peeks out between her arms and I can make out the outline of her breasts. Not only is she feminine and beautiful, but wild at the same time. Smiling, I make my way to the fridge, running my hands through my unruly curls.
The moment Dean steps out into the living room, his eyes find mine. I stand behind the large kitchen island, a steaming mug of coffee paused midway to my lips. His sweats hang low on his hips, and over the brim of my cup, I drink in every exposed inch of him. Which is a lot. He’sconvenientlyleft his shirt in the bedroom, but I can’t complain. Regardless of how many times I see this man shirtless, he still takes my breath away every time he leaves it behind. I watch eagerly as those long legs carry him across the rug and onto the tile of the kitchen floor. He doesn’t stop and pick up the mug I’d filled for him sitting on the other side of the island. Instead, he passes right by it, his feet stopping only when his hands sink into my hair at the nape of my neck and pulls me against him. His kiss is tender but carries a gentle reminder of what he can offer if I just open my mouth and let him in. Just as his tongue brushes against me, he pulls back, leaving me breathless. With a smirk, he doesn’t walk away until he slides a hand under the hem of his shirt that hangs down to my thighs. That rough palm that handled me with so much affection squeezes my ass, and I let myself fall into his chest, melting against his bare skin still hot from his shower.
“Thanks for the coffee, darlin’,” he mumbles, kissing the top of my head. Just as I expected him to, this man drinks his coffee black. Not a drop of cream or sugar is added, and it fits. We eye each other from opposite sides of the island as we sip insilence. Typically, I don’t do well in silence. It’s too much time to think, to remember. But with Dean the silence between us feels blissful. With him, my mind isn’t spinning to fill the space. I’m not trying to impress him or hide my true self. He’s seen all of me, and hasn’t left me. Yet. I remind myself of our rules. Rules which are quickly becoming blurred.
“So,” I say, pulling myself out of my spiraling thoughts, “what do you want to do today?” I don’t have to be in Colorado until this Friday, which gives us a whole five days before I need to pack up and hit the road.
My skin heats as he lets his eyes boldly trail over my body. I raise an eyebrow at him when he brings those stormy eyes to mine. Gone is the dark rage from last night—today they are clear more blue than gray, and they pull me back into their safety. “Thought we’d go for a ride.” Resting both forearms on the island, I watch as his muscles flex, his brown, wavy hair falling slightly over his forehead as he leans down to look up at me through his lashes.
Leaning in as close as I can with the granite top between us, I raise my eyebrows at him and whisper, “What kinda ride, cowboy?” In an instant, he rounds the island. And just when I think I’ve darted out of his path, he catches the back of my shirt, pulling me back roughly until I slam against his chest. His arms cage me in, his fingers splayed across my stomach, one hand dipping lower. “You keep callin’ me cowboy, and I’ll give you the best ride of your life, darlin’.” My body trembles at the brush of his lips on my neck, the thrill of his promise sinking into my soul.
“Better make it last more than eight seconds.” I let out a childish giggle as he picks me up in his arms and carries me back to bed.
Beingin this house alone with Dean has been a ride I’ll never forget. We’ve had sex in basically every room of this house. I can’t walk past the staircase without feeling my cheeks heat at the memory of his hands in my hair and his hips slamming against me. Cooking meals in the kitchen has proven to be the most challenging task—ever since he lifted me onto the island, sending bowls and plates crashing to the ground. I became well acquainted with the ceiling, staring at it while he ate me out with a hunger I’ve never experienced before. But as much as I love being in bed with Dean, I’m itching to get in the saddle and take a ride. Especially if this ride is one with him next to me. It’s been years since I've gone on a trail ride with anyone other than just Queen and myself. A couple hours later, we have both horses saddled up and are headed out on a trail just behind the house. Dean holds the gate open for me and Queen, then walks Ghost up next to me. He swapped his black cowboy hat for a baseball cap today, and my Lord is it working for him.
“You’re staring,” he states, but his lips tug upward at the edges. He pulls his hat off and runs a hand through his hair, before spinning it around and placing it backwards over his head. Shifting in my seat, I drop my gaze and look out around us.
“It’s beautiful here.” He doesn’t reply, so I turn back to him. His eyes stay on me for a moment before he mutters, “Sure is.” He taps his heels against Ghost's sides and moves in front of me. I follow a short distance behind, watching them move together as one. Dean looks so comfortable on a horse that big, like falling off isn’t an option. I can’t contain my quiet laugh as Ghost dodges a branch that would have smacked Dean across the face.
“What’s got you giggling back there, baby?” Turning in the saddle to look at me over his shoulder, I notice that he looks genuinely happy. The sun lights up his face, washing away the shadows that usually rest in the lines of his features. Like being on the back of Ghost is where he feels most like himself. My heart falls a little bit harder at that.
“It wasn’t too long ago you were telling me that Ghost is amean motherfucker.” I do my best to imitate his deep voice. “And here he is, side stepping a branch to spare you a sore cheek.”
Dean’s shoulders shake with a laugh, but he doesn’t respond. I let the sound of the day surround us. Birds sing in the tall trees overhead. The sun shines through the leaves, casting little patterns on the dirt trail. The sky is spotted with white, puffy clouds. It’s perfection. My mind fills with images of riding with my parents as a kid. How simple life was back then. My parents did everything, I never worried about a thing. To be young and naïve again. Slowly, those memories morph into an illustration of what my future could look like. Having someone to take care of me like my parents did, to share the burden of adulthood. A man who could make me smile again, help me feel alive again. I watch Dean’s back for a while until he pulls his hat off again and runs a hand through his hair, almost as if he knows the affect it has on me. His long fingers pull the brim back down over his eyes before peeking back at me to make sure I’m ok. We share a tender smile. He makes me feel that way. I smile with him, I feel alive with him.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, expecting an update from Mallory or Kasey sometime today. Instead, I groan at the reminder on the screen:your period is expected to start sometime in the next two weeks.“Great,” I mutter, then instantly pull Queen to a stop. “Shit,” I whisper, glancing up to make sure Dean hasn't noticed that I’ve stopped. My mindinternally counts the amount of times Dean has come inside me in the past few weeks.Fuck!I don’t take birth control because it makes me nauseous and emotional. I don’t sleep around enough to worry about it, and when I did find someone worthy enough of a distraction, I always, always, had a condom on hand.
“You ok back there, darlin’?” I startle at the sound of his deep voice calling back to me. He’s stopped in the shade of an aspen lining the trail. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I nudge Queen forward. Closing the space between us, I stop next to Ghost, bringing Dean and I face to face.
“Why don’t you ever use a condom?” I blurt, then slap a hand over my mouth.Smooth. Real smooth, Hannah.
He cocks his head in surprise, those stormy eyes roaming my face. “You aren’t on the pill?” I’d expected him to sound shocked, maybe even upset. It wouldn’t be entirely my fault, usually both parties say something to the effect ofwill this lead to an oops baby?
“No.” I shift in the saddle, his gaze is firm and unreadable, making me feel a little out of sorts. “It makes me sick,” I say softly, almost embarrassed that I brought it up at all. Shifting Ghost as close as he can without crushing my leg, Dean reaches out and takes my chin in one big hand. The pad of his thumb runs along my lip, and I can’t help but whimper at his touch.
“Good, was gonna get you off that shit sooner rather than later anyway.”
My eyes bulge, and I can’t help the eruption of butterflies in my stomach. “Wh-What do you mean?” I stutter.
His hand never leaves my chin, his thumb rubbing up and down my jaw. “Darlin’, one day you’re gonna understand that you’re mine.” There goes rule number two. “It’s only a matter of time before I put a baby in you.” With that, he leans in, pressing his lips to mine. It’s not eager or controlling like he was this morning. No, this kiss feels like a promise. It’s over too soon,and he drops a kiss on my forehead. Then, as if he didn’t just flip my world upside down, he shifts Ghost to the side and motions for me to take the lead. And I’m glad for once he can’t see my face. I’m sure tomorrow my face will ache from the unfamiliar use of the muscles I’m using to smile this big. We ride in silence, stopping a few miles up the trail at an overlook. Dean helps me off Queen, and together we sit on a boulder covered in shade from the towering pines above us overlooking a valley below. The old riverbed is long dried up, but that moment will forever be burned in my mind. A memory that will surface when I miss the warmth of the sun on my skin and the tingle that lights me up every time Dean’s arm brushes against me.
I domy best to ignore the nausea that settles over me as we walk through the halls of the hospital towards Mallory’s room. Images of waking up here after my concussion to the news of my parents passing threatens to pull me under. Just as I’m about to duck into a room and lock myself away, Dean steps up beside me. Without any words, like he just knows what I need, he slips his hand into mine, our fingers holding each other tightly. “How do you know what to do at all the right moments?” I ask him, tipping my head back to meet his eyes. They still send butterflies zooming around inside me when they land on me. “I think my soul just recognizes yours, darlin’.” Those words cause all sorts of confusion within me. I nod lamely, unable to come up with the words to say back.
Kasey’s back comes into view first, and for a moment, Dean and I stand outside the door, watching as he brushes Mallory’s thick hair away from her face and says something that makes hersmile. Her right eye is black and blue, and her smile cracks open the cut on her lip. But he doesn’t miss a beat, just wipes away the blood with the pad of his thumb. The moment is so tender it brings tears to my eyes. Dean steps in front of me to give me a moment to wipe my eyes before he raps on the door twice with his knuckles.
The four of us chat for a bit about the trail Dean and I took this morning, upcoming rides, and horrible hospital food. I can tell we’re all trying our best to avoid the topic that we all want to address, but aren’t sure how. The TV in the corner changes from commercials to the evening news, and Mallory sits up in bed, shushing Kasey as he tries to make yet another joke in an attempt to get Dean to crack a smile. “Turn it up.” She motions to the news anchor talking on screen. Kasey grabs the remote and hits the volume button until her voice drowns out everything else around us.
“Police are investigating a missing person who was last seen at the bar BuckWild last night. A friend of the missing person who we have now found out is Sean Manners—”Mallory gasps at the image of her attacker when it flashes on the screen. Kasey stands from his chair and moves to her side, holding her hand in his.“—speaks about his disappearance.”The screen changes to another news anchor standing outside the bar. The man who we saw walking up the hall with Sean leans in to answer the question he was asked.“I’m not sure what happened to Sean. We spent the night inside drinking and dancing. We left around 10:00 pm and parted ways in the parking lot. Sean said something about getting together later this week. I got into my truck and haven’t heard from him since.”
The wood chair beside me groans as Dean pushes out of it, crossing the room to shut the door before coming back and sitting beside me. “Look,” I say, pointing a shaky hand at the TV. Donna, the woman who worked the bar last night, steps intoview.“Donna, thank you for speaking with us today. We also had a report of woman who was raped at your bar last night. Do you think these two incidents are related?”The news anchor tilts the microphone to Donna, and I clench Dean’s knee in my hand.“What happened here last night is tragic, and something that no one should ever have to live with. That poor girl was attacked while enjoying time with her friends. As far as I know, and from what the police have told me, she doesn’t remember anything about her attacker.”Her soft eyes snap from the anchor beside her to the camera, and it seems like she’s staring through the screen at the four of us.“But I hope he got the justice he deserved.”
Kasey mutes the TV and we all share a glance. I’m sure Kasey filled Mallory in on what happened just like Dean did last night while we laid in bed. “What’s done is done,” Mallory says quietly, looking up to lock eyes with Kasey. “I know what you two did.” Her gaze swings to Dean, tears falling down her cheeks. “But as far as any police are concerned, I have no idea what happened after he left me on the bathroom floor. I just want to move on from this.” With a nod, I give her a smile, then we move the conversation into lighter topics before a doctor comes in to do one last check before releasing her. I give her a long, tight hug and promise to check in soon. We both stifle a laugh at how stiff Dean goes when Kasey rounds the bed and pulls him into a tight embrace. Dean literally has to peel Kasey off him with a groan of disgust, but I see the slight tip of his lips as he slaps Kasey on the shoulder before tipping his chin in Mallory’s direction and leading me out of the room.
That nightwhen we lay in bed, our naked bodies intertwined, his fingers lazily running through my hair. “Dean?”
He answers with a hum, his fingers never pausing their path through my tangles.
I look up at him and ask the question that’s been burning in my mind since that night in the tack room.
