Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
He nodded before removing his hand from my mouth. “Good. Me neither. Now, hand me that towel, and let’s get some sleep. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since coming to Wyoming, it’s that ranch work starts disgustingly early. And the key element to any anti-aging regimen is a full night’s sleep.”
It was obvious he felt the tension that had crept in between us—an awkwardness that had no place in this tent. We were two grown adults—one of us more grown than the other, perhaps—and we’d had a consensual sexual encounter. Neither of us were prudes or virgins. Neither of us were strangers to casual sex.
So why did something feel so off?
Maybe because something about the sex itself had felt so indescribably perfect. And not at all casual.
After reaching behind me to find the discarded towel, I did my best to clean him off and help him back into his briefs. We turned out the headlamp, pulled the sleeping bag back in place over both of us, and lay awkwardly close without actually touching.
“Fuck this,” Richard finally said before moving closer and snuggling me. “Suck it up. This is happening.”
I made a sound of acknowledgment in my throat and held him in my arms. Something about having him there made my racing thoughts settle, and I fell quickly into a deep sleep.
Several hours later, Birdie’s cold nose nudged my head to wake me up, dragging me from my dreams. The barest hint of sunrise glowed against the skin of the tent. I reached out to scratch her head and murmured for her to give me a minute. Richard’s messy hair tickled my chin, and I realized his head was on my chest and an arm was thrown across my ribs. I leaned down to kiss his temple without thinking. He murmured something incoherent, and I told him to stay asleep.
After slipping out of the bag and stomping into my damp boots, I unzipped the tent and followed Birdie into the frigid morning. Because of poor planning, my spare clothes were still in my saddlebag, but at least they were dry inside a waterproof liner. I dressed as quickly as I could and stomped back into my boots, this time wearing a nice, thick pair of dry socks.
The fire ring was a puddle of soot, but I’d at least been smart enough to cover our makeshift wood pile with a small tarp to protect it from morning dew.
The tack and feed were still protected under another tarp, and I quickly set both tarps out on a stretch of grass in hopes they’d dry off a little before I had to pack them up. Then I made the fire and tended to the horses.
By the time I put water on for coffee, Richard was moving inside the tent.
“The fire’s nice and hot if you want to bring the sleeping bag and come sit out here,” I called. But a few moments later, he emerged fully dressed with his sleeping bag already crammed into its compression sack and his personal items packed.
“Morning,” I said, forcing myself not to be awkward or silent. His plea the night before not to make things weird echoed in my memory, and I wanted to make sure he didn’t feel used. “You’ve already packed, huh?”
Smooth, Boone.
He glanced up at me in surprise. “Were you expecting me to sleep in? We still haven’t found that heifer, and she could be in trouble somewhere.”
My heart warmed with his concern. I couldn’t help but let out a laugh, wondering what his friends and family back home would think if they could hear him now.
Or what Oscar would think.
My gut tightened at the thought of Oscar and his warnings about Richard. But he could hardly blame me for falling into bed with the man. Oscar was open-minded and sex-positive. I couldn’t imagine he’d send me a beautiful man like Richard without the thought crossing his mind that I might want to take him to bed. Plus, his warnings had been about falling for the man, not fucking him.
And I was certainly not going to fall for Richard.
Or so I tried telling myself.
“Why are you laughing? Is it that unbelievable I’d be ready to go so early?” Richard sounded defensive, his arms crossed tight against his chest. “I’ll have you know I haven’t overslept since that first morning—”
“No,” I said, smiling at him to reassure him. “I was just wondering what your New York friends would say if they could hear you now, lamenting a missing heifer and deeming her worth waking up for before the sun.”
“Oh.” His sudden laughter filled the campsite, and I wondered if maybe I would be happy to wake up to that sound every day. The thought startled me. I quickly busied myself with the coffee before pulling out the instant oatmeal packets and paper bowls Norma had packed.