Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Cradled in his arms, I feel safe, I feel wanted, I feel whole.
But what’s going to come next, when we wake from the strange, dreamlike fantasy that this night has been to a morning back in the real world?
I don’t know how long I sleep for, but at some point in the night, I’m lifted out of Scott’s bed. “What?” I whisper, finding myself naked in Cash’s arms.
“I need you,” he says, carrying me into his room. The bed is warm, and he covers me first with his comforter and then with his body, nuzzling my neck.
“Is everything okay?” I whisper, stroking his cheek.
“It is now,” he says.
For a while, his hands roam my body, caressing my breasts, my hips, my thighs, and my ass, all the parts of me that are soft and womanly. I’m braced for him to want to the same thing as Scott, but he doesn’t go there. Instead, he falls asleep wrapped around me protectively, and I smile.
He needed me to settle into the world of dreams, and I think that’s just the sweetest thing ever.
20
I wake to an empty bed and an empty house. Still naked between the sheets, I roll onto my back, gazing up at the ceiling, reliving everything that happened last night.
There is no going back now. I've kissed them all. I've touched them all. I'm not a virgin anymore.
Reaching down, I cup between my legs, finding myself sticky and a little tender.
My heart thuds a little faster as I remember what it felt like to have the Bradfords' hands on me, to feel them come in my hands, my mouth, and my pussy.
I blush, even though I'm alone, and wonder if this is how Connie felt after the first time she was with her men. I get the feeling Connie definitely had more experience of these things than me. Maybe that made it easier for her to comprehend.
Is it normal to feel like a different person? It's odd to have a sense that I've stepped over the barrier from girlhood to womanhood. Maybe stepped is the wrong word. Run headlong might be a better analogy!
But I can't spend all day thinking about last night.
I need groceries and to purchase seeds and plants for my garden. If I want to be home in time to give the Bradfords lunch, I'm going to have to get a move on.
The drive into town feels different. The sun is out, and I'm bubbling with a feeling much like I have when it rains after a long summer. The smile on my face must be ridiculously large because I find people smiling back wherever I go.
I'm planning on making a huge beef stew tonight, filled with chunks of tender meat, an ale gravy, and plenty of root vegetables, and tomorrow, I thought I'd try to make a lasagna for the first time. All the layering of pasta sheets, meat sauce, and the creamy white sauce seems complex, but I don't think I can go too wrong if I follow the recipe.
After I've loaded the food into the trunk, I wander Main Street looking for a store that sells the things I need. My parents always handled things like this, so I'm not sure where to go. At the end of the street, there's a hardware store that I venture into, hoping I'll find what I want.
There's a young guy loading up the shelves who looks familiar. Maybe we went to the same school. "Do you sell vegetable seeds?" I ask him.
"Sure." His blue eyes scan my face, obviously wondering the same thing. "Follow me."
"Thanks." He makes his way to the back of the store, holding his hand out to a rack displaying a huge array of different varieties. This process is going to take a while because I need to make sure I'm buying seeds that will grow into hardy plants that will withstand and survive an organic way of gardening.
The man, whose nametag reads Rob, hangs around.
"You're Melanie, right?"
Nodding, I cock my head to the side and squint at him, still not sure of the connection between us.
"You were three years older than me at school," he says, grinning.
"And three foot shorter than you now," I laugh.
"I've grown," Rob says and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Seriously. Is he hitting on me?
"You have." I smile, raising my eyebrows and taking in his shaggy brown hair and scruffy beard. Combined with a plaid shirt and protective apron, he looks like he was made to work in this place.
"So you're growing vegetables?"
"Yeah. I thought I'd try my hand at it."
"I thought…I heard you lost your farm." His cheeks turn pink, the bluntness of his comment striking him after it left his lips.
Shrugging, I decide not to divulge too much. This town is teeming with connections that I don't know enough about. I don't want to say anything that will get back to or harm the Bradfords.