Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cash
The Following Morning
My alarm went off at 3:45, but I was already awake. I turned it off quickly, not wanting to wake Hailey, who was asleep next to me. This was the second night of us sleeping together in my bed, and I was used to it already. It was hard getting up and leaving her behind, but I had things that needed doing on the farm.
She snuggled into me, making a soft, sleepy sound. “Do you really have to get up?” she whispered.
I kissed the top of her head. “Not right this second,” I replied. I couldn’t wait too long, or the horses would be screaming for breakfast and freedom from their stalls.
She put her arm around me, holding me to her like that would keep me from getting up if I tried. It was sweet and only made me want to stay in bed with her for longer. “You could stay here for the rest of the day, just snuggling and having sex. We’d have to get up for food too, but then we’d need to get right back into bed.” She giggled at the thought, and I held her closer, thinking about how strange it would be to spend an entire day in bed voluntarily.
Lying in the dark together, I realized there was something I’d been meaning to talk to Hailey about, and this seemed like the perfect time. It was dark, and I wouldn’t need to look her in the eye while I did it, which made it easier.
“I’ve been reading your books,” I said, just coming right out with it. “I bought one in town, the last one you wrote, and had the rest ordered.”
“Really?” she asked, sounding slightly tickled as she hugged me tighter. “What did you think?”
“The writing was great, really descriptive and it made it easy to imagine the setting and the characters.” Her style was almost rhythmic, like you were listening to music instead of just reading. I fell into the story, enjoying it despite the fact that I wouldn’t usually read that kind of fiction. It had been a relief to see how well she wrote because that meant we could discuss her books. If I’d found her writing terrible, I’d never have brought up her books at all, and it likely would’ve changed things between us, as much as I hated to admit it.
“But…?” she asked, glancing up at me in the filmy dark.
“I was just surprised is all. Your writing is darker than I thought it’d be. The characters are vibrant, but so many bad things happen. The storylines don’t suit your personality.”
She giggled, still sounding sleepy. “I get that a lot. Cute blonde girl with glasses who should be writing children’s books or romance novels.”
“I didn’t quite mean that,” I started, but she interrupted.
“No, I get it. Even my agent is surprised by what I come up with. It just helps me process the things in my own life. I put it all out on the page. I really think that’s why I’m such an upbeat, happy person. Writing is my therapy. I put all the dark stuff into my books, exorcising my own demons, I guess you could say. I don’t write twisted slashers or anything, but that doesn’t mean bad things don’t happen to my characters. It’s supposed to mimic real life, and that can be hard depending on who you are and where you live.”
“I liked the one on the boat best, I think, even though the little girl ends up without her mother at the end,” I said.
“That one was fun to research,” she said. “I spent a few weeks in the Caribbean on a boat. There are definitely worse ways to spend a day at the office.”
I didn’t like the sound of spending that much time on a boat, but then I’d never been on the ocean before, or seen it outside of a picture in one of my books. “You definitely like dark themes for your books. What’s the one you’re gonna write about this trip?” I was interested to hear the answer, and anxious too. I didn’t want her to paint Wyoming in a bad light or have some grumpy cowboy as the main character that was clearly based on me. She’d done justice to the rest of her settings, describing their beauty in a way that spoke to the reader. I didn’t think she’d make Jackson look bad, but I did worry how she’d portray me to an audience.
“Well, I usually start with a theme I want for the novel itself,” she explained as she ran her fingertips over my chest, tracing the muscles and ribs. “For this one, I decided on the isolation of rural life. It will revolve around a central character, a rugged cowboy type living in the wide open spaces of wild Wyoming.”
I chuckled at that description. “Rural life ain’t half as isolated as what I expect city life to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“All of them people everywhere, but no one talks to each other. I don’t spend much time in town, but I know damned near everybody. It’s slow here, and easy. From all I’ve read about the city, it seems like things move so fast, you don’t have time to think, let alone talk with your neighbor. You’re surrounded by activity and other folks, but do you really connect with them?”
She thought about that, her fingers moving over my skin, creating trails of sweet sensation. I could lie here with her rubbing on me for the rest of the day, the horses and cows be damned.
“I can see what you’re saying, and I agree, proximity of people doesn’t equate to a loss of isolation. I’ve felt more at peace and connected to those around me since I’ve been out here than I ever have in New York, and I doubt I’ve even seen a tenth of the people here that I’d see in a day in the city. I love it there, but I’ve been able to center myself here in a way that’s almost effortless. It’s so beautiful, and I’ve made real connections with you and other people in town. I don’t think the same thing would be possible in Manhattan, and not just for an outsider, but for someone who lives there.”
Hearing her talk about what she’d experienced since coming out here got me thinking. It was true that she’d seen plenty since arriving out West, but there was one thing she hadn’t done, and that was go out on a date with me. I wanted to show her a nice time at the best steakhouse in Jackson. That would mean making a reservation, which I’d do later today. I wanted to surprise her. The rodeo had been a good time, but this would be an actual date.
“I need to go tend to the animals,” I said, but reluctantly. I had a day’s worth of chores to get to if I wanted to finish by the time we sat down to dinner together. And after dinner, we could retire to my room, spending the dark hours tangled together in bed.
She groaned to let me know how displeased she was with the idea.
I leaned to kiss her on the lips, staying a little longer when she pressed her tongue into my mouth, letting me taste how sweet she was. It was difficult to get up instead of doing something about how hard my cock was getting just kissing her and being this close to her warm, naked body. But if I didn’t get up now, I never would.
“Come on out when you get up,” I said as I dragged myself away from her.
“Okay,” she replied, burrowing back into the blankets.
I smiled, watching her for a moment before going to the bathroom to start my day.