Page 22 of Cord

“And I’m glad you did,” he says, his words a soft rumble.

“I’m glad too,” I admit. I know this marriage isn’t the real thing, and Cord is just a really good guy. But I feel like he gets me in a way that no one else does.

The moment he stops the truck, I’m scrambling out. I take a deep breath of country air, feeling my whole body relax. There’s no sound of traffic here, no hum of thousands of electronics, and no pressure or deadlines. There’s just peace. For the first time in years, it feels like my soul is breathing.

“Come on. I’ll show you to my cabin, and you can get changed,” he tells me as he grabs my bags from the trunk.

I glance down at my sundress and heels. I felt so cute when I put these on this morning. I definitely enjoyed the appreciative hunger in his gaze today when he told me I looked pretty. He’s been limited to three compliments a day, and he never fails to use them all.

“Something you don’t mind getting dirty in,” he clarifies and raises his eyebrows, that teasing look becoming more familiar to me now.

I grin as I follow him to his cabin. It’s big and beautiful, just like he is. But it’s also masculine and sterile with only a few pieces of furniture scattered throughout the entire place. But my favorite thing about it is the way it smells like him. It’s a spicy mix of leather, vanilla and earth that I’ve come to associate with my husband.

Molly and Milo like it too if the way they sniff everything is any indication. I don’t miss the dog beds that are tucked away in the corner of the living room or the bag of dog food in the kitchen. I love that he’s always thinking of them.

After the tour is finished, Cord puts his hands in his pockets and explains, “I don’t need much.”

“With a view like this, I’d have to agree,” I tell him, watching the way the tension leaves his shoulders. “Not to mention these exposed beams.” I point to the ceiling, and his chest puffs out a little then.

“Built the place myself.” He’s preening now, reminding me of those nature documentaries where the male of the species tries to attract a mate.

“The craftsmanship is excellent,” I tell him, even though I have no idea what good craftsmanship looks like.

He runs his hand along one of the doors. “My parents were alcoholics. They were always getting evicted from one place or another. But this place is mine. It’s the one place no one can make me leave.”

My heart twists at his words. I lost my mum when I was young, but it’s different.

My childhood wasn’t filled with the same level of instability as his. I never had to worry about where I was going to put my head at night or guess if the electricity would be on when I came home after a day of school.

I always knew that my father loved me. He kept food on the table and provided all of the emotional support that I could need. But I know that Cord doesn’t want me feeling sorry for him. “Your cabin is stunning.”

He nods toward the bedroom. “Get changed. We’ll start your tour.”

Once I’m dressed, we settle Molly and Milo in a spare bedroom with an activity gate. He gives them each a specialty made rawhide bone before he takes me around the ranch. He teaches me how to feed the chickens, how to brush the horses, and even how to muck out a stall. I definitely don’t care for that last chore.

“What’s your favorite part of being on the farm?” I ask him once we put in half a day’s work. It’s nearly dinner time and I’m not ready to stop. No wonder he loves working outdoors. It’s so energizing to be in the fresh air with the sunshine on my back, and the birds singing in the trees above me.

“The best part is working with the machinery. I restore the tractors on the place.”

I want to know everything about Cord and what he does. “Can I see?”

He leads me to the workshop and shows me a beautiful tractor. He runs his hand along the gleaming machine. “I just finished this one last week. Haven’t even given it a test drive yet. Do you want to do that with me?”

I nod, and he climbs onto the tractor then helps me up. I settle in his lap, feeling his hardness underneath my body. I put my lips together to keep from moaning out loud. It’s been a week since he’s been inside me, and I’m tempted to start grinding on him right here. But I’m the one who insisted on the guidelines, and it’s not fair to tease him.

He talks me through the controls and how they work, his voice rough and gritty. I recognize that raw, masculine need in his tone from our honeymoon.

We spend the next thirty minutes cruising around the farm on the tractor. The wind in my hair is making me laugh. Cord’s arms are around me holding me tight, and it’s the most fun I’ve had in ages.

When I shut off the tractor behind the barn, I turn to Cord. “That was amazing. No wonder you love working on these machines.”

His gaze is on my lips. My hands go to his shoulders, and I lean in. It’s the only sound he needs because then he’s kissing me. A hungry, devouring kiss because we’ve denied ourselves for a week, and now there’s only primal need. His tongue strokes along mine, sending shivers down my spine.

But it’s his groan that shakes me out of my stupor and pulls me back to reality.

I call his name softly. “We had rules, and they included foreplay.”

“We’re not breaking the rules. This is just kissing.”