None of this is right. My chest seems to understand that because it’s getting tighter and tighter by the second.
Why do I keep living like the next day isn’t going to come?
When I’m sufficiently cleaned and washed, I step from the bathroom and into Ryker’s bedroom where he’s set out a pair of leggings and a hoodie I thought I’d lost years ago. Next to them, a note. “You left these at my place up in the Springs last summer. I just remembered I had them. Love you.”
My heart squeezes again at thelove you. At the fact that he kept my clothes and moved them. At the fact that I feel more cherished than I ever have.
I only wish it were a permanent feeling.
Stomach churning, I slide into my clothes, tuck the sweet note from Ryker into my pocket, and step out into the hallway, suddenly face to face with Marin.
Marin?
“Marin?” I narrow my brows with a bit of relief, the tightness that was growing in my chest immediately gone. “What are you doing here? Where’s Benny?”
She tilts her head toward the door. “He went with Ryker down to the bar. I drove right past the distillery and tried calling him, but he wasn’t answering his phone.” She grins and gives me the once over. “Now I know why.”
“Wait, what? What’s going on at the distillery?”
“I think you were right about the rednecks at Mullet’s bar.” She lowers into the chair beside me with her cup of coffee. “They started parking their trucks up and down the street to fill all available spaces, and duct taped signs to them that point back at their bar.”
“What do the signs say?”
“Real locals drink down the street.” She shakes her head and bites back a laugh. “It’s not funny, but it kind of is. It’s like a full-on circus on Main Street right now.”
My jaw drops as I grab Ryker’s mug off the counter by the coffee maker. It’s a dark blue mug with a deer head on the front. It’s been sitting in the same spot since last night. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t washed it in weeks, but I don’t care. Drinking from it makes me feel close to him. “Holy crap. That’s crazy. I hope everything is okay.”
“Yeah,” she grins super wide, “I’ve lost interest inthatcircus. I’m more curious about this one.” She tilts her head to the side. “You’re looking extremely satisfied and relaxed this morning.”
“Oh stop!” I try to bite back the guilt, but I’d guess the heat rolling onto my cheeks is giving me away. I’m so glad Benny went with Ryker. I can’t imagine how this would’ve gone if he hadn’t.
“So… what happened?” Marin presses. “I want every filthy detail.”
“I don’t know… we talked. He—”
“I said filthy! I want thefilthydetails.” She flattens her stare and shakes her head playfully. “I’m a lonely, lonely girl. Make me believe in love.”
I smile. “A lady doesn’t talk about the wild crazy sex she had with a much older man. And she definitely doesn’t talk about how he likes being in control. Or how much he loves todole out spankings. Or how I snuck into his room to sleep last night. Or how he asked me to crawl down onto my knees and suck him off this morning before work. No, a lady doesn’t talk about stuff like that.”
Her brows rise and her mouth drops open as she fans herself with a nearby fishing magazine. “Oh damn! You’re living the dream! You think he’d want to hook me up with one of his big, sexy brothers? I have a wedding I need a date to.” She laughs. “Preferably Archer.”
“Your direct boss, Archer?”
“A girl can dream, right?”
I nod slowly. “I could see you two together. I mean, maybe it’s just me, but I swear I’ve seen him checking you out.”
She shakes her head back and forth quickly as though that’s insane. “Really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. The other day you were on your tip toes reaching down into the ice chest and he couldn’t keep his eyes off you,” I purse my lips, “but you didn’t hear that from me.”
Her cheeks pink. “Well, doesn’t matter anyway. I know you’re into the age gap thing, but Archer isn’t going to go for it.”
“You’re wrong, though. Ryker and I are twenty-five years apart and this is the best relationship I’ve had to date. He takes charge, he knows how to treat me, he left me a sweet little handwritten note this morning, and the sex is,” I pause and take another sip of coffee as I stare at Marin over the mug, “insane.”
“We’ll see, but I think I’d have to be drunk off my ass to get the nerve up.”
“Good thing you’re surrounded by barrels of whiskey then.” I grin and grab a donut from the box in the center of the table. They aren’t fresh, but they don’t look completely stale yet, so I take my chances. Usually, the pastries from Josie’s bakery last for at least a week before they go bad.
