“Surprisingly, yes. But I don’t want either of us to move.” She turned her head and nuzzled his chest.
“If we were at my apartment we could order takeout. I don’t imagine anybody delivers around here?” Peyton didn’t like the reminder that she lived three hundred miles away.
“You don’t imagine right.” Unable to stop himself he dragged one hand along her side, to her thigh. He’d been laying there inside of her and still hadn’t had enough. But it was early yet. They had all night. “I need to replenish my strength though, Stella. I’m not done with you yet.”
He felt her shiver against him. She liked that. He bit her again. This time a little harder.
“What kind of sandwiches?” She asked him sleepily.
Peyton finally slid out and rolled so that he lay next to her. “Turkey?” He glanced at her questioningly.
“Hmmm…”
Peyton chuckled and looked around for his pants. “Spoiled woman. All right. Don’t move. I suppose you did get the horses fed.”
She opened those gorgeous eyes at his words. “I understood why you left, today. I was mad but…” She looked so serious.
They were walking a fine line tonight. Taking pleasure while Corinne lay at that damn hospital. Did he and Stella need to talk? He didn’t want to talk, he wanted to feel, and make love and good god, he wanted to laugh.
“You’re kind of scary when you’re mad. I was damn near afraid to come home.” He chose to avoid the sorrow beating at their door. Buttoning his jeans, he glanced back up. “How do you like your sandwich?”
Stella roused from her lethargy and searched for her clothes. “I’ll help. If you leave me here alone, I’ll be out for the night.
He tossed his shirt across the bed. “You better come with me then.” He sure as hell wasn’t about to let that happen. His cock twitched as he watched her slip slim arms into the too big shirt. Sexy as hell.
Downstairs they worked together in comfortable silence. Peyton put on a Sam Hunt C.D., opened a bottle of wine, and then went about building the sandwiches. Stella added chips and a few olives to two plates and found some napkins. In between such mundane tasks, they worked closely, allowing their hands to brush one another’s more than necessary. At one point, Peyton stood behind Stella and worked with both arms around her, nuzzling her neck as he did so.
They carried their feast to the table and sat across from one another. Tonight belonged to them. They had all the time in the world.
Stella sipped some wine, watching him from above the rim of her glass.
“I thought you’d be more of a beer man.” She teased.
Some of the burgundy liquid glistened on her lips and Peyton couldn’t help leaning forward to taste it. “Wine has its advantages.”
“Mmm… “And then, “How do you like your steaks?” She took a bite of sandwich and eyed him playfully.
“Medium Rare, if it’s quality. You?”
She grinned. “Same. Pizza?”
“Lots of meat. Leave off the salad.”
“Speaking of meat–” Peyton raised his brows as he waited for her to complete such an evocative question “–Where are all the cows? Isn’t this a cattle ranch? I’ve met horses, dogs… not a single cow in sight.” Despite her joking she seemed genuinely interested.
“They spend the hotter months on BLM lands.” He explained to her that in a few weeks, when the cold began setting in at higher altitudes, he’d have to bring them back down. Normally Corinne would take part in this but… He caught himself here. Instead he told Stella she could come along– and Misty. “You’ll see Red in all his glory. He’s my right-hand man.”
“How many cows do you have?”
“Two-hundred pair.” He answered automatically before taking a bite of his sandwich.
“Pair?”
He couldn’t help smiling. “A mama and her calf.”
“They just hang out, on the BLM lands all by themselves? Why don’t they run away?”
He enjoyed her simple questions. “I check on them a couple times a week. Make sure they’re keepin’ out of mischief.”
