She’s everywhere, and I never want to let go. We move slowly, savoring every touch, the feel of her body against mine grounding me in a way nothing else ever has. We move slowly with the momentum moving faster and faster and her arching her body harder and harder.
The groans coming out of her are turning me on even more with each one. She tastes so good, she smells like vanilla and hay. I don't want this moment to end. I hear her whisper, "Cash, I'm almost there, I'm closer, closer," and she shudders with pleasure, watching her makes me go at the same time.
When we fall apart together, it’s not quiet. It’s a gasp, a groan, a soft cry against my neck. It’s her arms clinging to me like I’m the only thing holding her steady. It’s everything I didn’t know I’d been missing.
And when the aftershocks fade, when we’re left panting in a bed of hay and sunlight, I rest my forehead against hers.
Neither of us says a word for a long while.
But everything that needed to be said is already there, in the way she breathes against my chest, in the way I don’t want to let her go.
When it’s over, we lie tangled in hay and sunlight, our breathing the only sound in the loft. Her fingers tangle in the hair on my chest, and I stare at the rafters, trying to remember how to exist without touching her.
“This was a bad idea,” I say, but I don’t mean it.
She doesn’t answer right away. Just snuggles in closer. “Maybe. But it felt like the right one.”
And that’s the problem. It did.
We start to shift, the warmth of the moment giving way to the sting of hay in places it shouldn’t be. Avery groans softly as she pulls away, brushing strands of golden straw from her hair. “I think I have hay everywhere,” she mutters.
I grin, grabbing my shirt from a nearby beam. “Pretty sure I’ve got some in my boots, and we weren’t even wearing them.”
She chuckles, low and breathless, as she tugs her shirt back over her head. I reach out and pluck a bit of hay from her collarbone, letting my fingers linger a second too long. Her eyes flick to mine, softer now, and something unspoken passes between us.
“You good?” I ask, voice rough as I button my jeans. "You know we didn't get one hay bale moved"
She nods, biting her bottom lip. “Yeah. Just… hoping we don’t get caught climbing down this ladder looking like we rolled in the hay. Literally.”
“Harper sees me, I’ll never hear the end of it. Emmy sees me…” I trail off, grimacing. “Let’s not think about that.”
We both laugh, and it’s easy, lighter than it should be. Maybe it’s the sun or the afterglow or the way her smile settles something in me I didn’t know was restless.
Avery brushes her hands down her jeans, eyes scanning the barn below through the slats in the floor. “Looks clear.”
I gather what’s left of our dignity, run a hand through my hair, and gesture toward the ladder. “Ladies first.”
She shoots me a glare over her shoulder. “You go first, but only if you promise not to stare at my ass the whole way down.”
“No promises,” I mutter, smirking.
And as we make our careful descent, one rung at a time, I know this changes everything, even if we’re both pretending it doesn’t.
We're barely off the ladder when the barn door creaks open again.
“Hey, y’all seen…” Harper’s voice cuts off mid-sentence.
She’s standing there with Emmy at her side, a broom in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other. Her eyes take one long look at us, rumpled, sweaty, covered in hay, and then zero in on the stray pieces Avery just missed brushing from her hair.
Harper’s brows shoot up like rockets. “Well, well, well. Looks like someone had themselves a hayride.”
Avery makes a choking sound. “We were just—”
“Adjusting the insulation?” Harper deadpans. “Because I can see at least three places that need… fluffing.”
I clear my throat, tugging my shirt into place. “We were looking for some old documents.”
Harper snorts. “Right. And Cash was helping you… file them alphabetically? With his pants?” She raises an eyebrow. “Should I be expecting hay reports with morning meetings now? Or is this just part of the new ranch orientation?”
