"Why?" I turn onto my side to look at him.
"Because you just got here today. Because I should've taken it slower, been more romantic. Because—"
"Stop," I interrupt, placing my hand on his scarred chest. "I wanted this just as much as you did. Maybe more. And it was perfect."
He moves his arm and looks at me, his expression vulnerable. "You really mean that?"
"Yes." I lean in and kiss him softly. "I really mean that."
He pulls me closer, tucking me against his side. I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly return to normal. The room smells like sex and sweat, and the sheets are already rumpled beneath us.
"We're really doing this, aren't we?" he says quietly. "Actually trying to make this work."
"Yeah," I agree. "We really are."
"I'm glad you came here, Claire. I know I said it before, but... I mean it. Even if this is crazy and we barely know each other and we're lying to everyone. I'm still glad."
"Me too," I whisper. And I mean it with every fiber of my being.
We lie there in silence, our bodies cooling, our breathing syncing up. Outside, the Montana night is quiet except for the distant sound of cattle and the wind through the grass. Inside, I feel something I haven't felt in two years.
Peace.
Maybe this mail order bride thing was the best decision I ever made.
Maybe sometimes the craziest risks lead to the most beautiful rewards.
And maybe Rhett and I can actually build something real out of this impossible situation.
I fall asleep in his arms, his cum still warm inside me, and for the first time since my father died, I dream of the future instead of mourning the past.
Chapter 9 - Rhett
I wake up to sunrays streaming through the bedroom window, warming my face. For a moment, I just lie there, eyes still closed, feeling the weight of Claire's body tucked against my side. Her head rests on my chest, one arm draped across my scarred torso, her breathing slow and even.
I remember everything that happened last night. Every touch, every kiss, every moment of connection. I'm not confused or disoriented. I know exactly where I am: in Claire's bed, in the cottage I prepared for her, holding the woman I hired as a mail order bride who somehow became so much more in less than twenty-four hours.
The sex was mind-blowing. But above that, beyond the physical pleasure, is the connection. We just met in person yesterday, and it feels so fucking right it's insane. Like all the broken pieces of my life suddenly clicked into place the moment she stepped off that bus.
Claire stirs against me, her fingers flexing on my chest. Her eyes flutter open, and when she sees me already awake and watching her, she smiles. It's a sleepy, satisfied smile that makes me beyond happy.
"Morning," she murmurs, her voice husky from sleep and from screaming my name last night.
"Morning," I reply, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Sleep okay?"
"Best sleep I've had in years." She stretches slightly, then winces. "Though I'm going to feel last night for a while."
"Sorry," I say, though I'm not really sorry at all.
"Don't be." She props herself up on one elbow, looking down at me. "I'm not."
We lie there for a few minutes, just looking at each other, both of us probably thinking the same thing: this is real now. We crossed a line last night that we can't uncross. We're not just two strangers playing pretend anymore.
And that means I need to do the right thing.
"I'm going to tell them," I say, the words coming out before I can second-guess myself. "At lunch today. I'm going to tell everyone the truth about how we met."
Claire's eyes widen slightly. "Are you sure? Rhett, it's only been a day. We can wait—"
