Jason

The wind whips around us as we chase the sun. The road’s wide open. I could keep riding. I could steal her away from this life that’s holding her back. Would she stop me?

Would Delilah want to keep going or turn back?

We’re both caught in a whirlwind we can’t control, and it sucks. I know she loves me. She doesn’t have to tell me, though she does often. She shows me. I see it in her pretty blue eyes. I feel it in the way she touches me and in the way she cares for me.

I love her.

I cover one of her hands with mine before returning it to the handlebar. Having her on my bike, wrapped around me, was yet another fantasy I never thought would happen. Here we are though. Trust in me to care for her—to keep her safe—has been handed over without question.

Delilah took the helmet and put it on before I had a chance to insist on it. It was as easy as her saying, “Share this piece of you with me.” An hour later, we haven’t made it far, but we’ve crossed county lines. I veered off onto a small, hidden-from-the-highway dirt road about ten minutes ago. I don’t think she’ll remember when I brought her here back in college, but it felt like a good time for a visit.

The river comes into view, and I love the sight of the mountains with the gray and purple of twilight. We dismount and she sets the helmet on the bike before wandering toward the river. “You brought me here a few times. I always remembered it, but could never find it.”

“Why were you looking for it?”

Standing at the water’s edge with her back to me, she says, “I thought if I could find it again, it would lead me back to you.”

When her head tilts down, her shoulders shake with a sob. I go to her as she covers her face with her hands. Holding her from behind, I whisper, “My heart was always with you. The beat was just silent until I returned.” I turn her around and hold her as she cries on my shoulder. “I’m not mad at you, honeysuckle.” Stroking her hair, I whisper, “And I’m not leaving.”

She looks up, her puddled tears running down her face. “For now?”

“I’m thinking about forever. What do you think?”

A smile cuts through the sadness that had overtaken her face. “I’d like that.”

“Remember how I said I wanted to talk about money?”

“Yes, but I don’t.”

Chuckling, I ask, “Why is money such a taboo topic?”

“Because it brings out the worst in people.”

That’s not the Delilah I know. She’s never been one to focus on the negatives, but after what I’ve learned regarding the human condition, she’s right. “Does it have to be that way?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

“I’ve saved some money, Delilah. I was thinking about our future and the farm.”

“What? Why would you be thinking about the farm?”

“I want to be where you are.”

She steps out of my reach and crosses her arms. Staring out over the lake, she’s nodding her head before she speaks. “I’m not letting you spend your money on the farm if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“What if I want to?”

“You were shot. You’ve done unimaginable things for that money.”

“Is it too dirty for you to want to use it for a good cause?”

She laughs. “I’m not that high and mighty, Jason. I meant, you’ve had to sacrifice so much to earn every dollar.”

“Everyone who works makes sacrifices.”

“Usually not with their life.”

“I didn’t think I would, but shit happens. Things go wrong. Bad people sometimes get ahead, but they didn’t win.”

“What happened to them?”

“They died.” I walk to the edge of the water and squat down. Picking a weed, I rub it between my fingers before tossing it to the ground. “You have more questions, so can we just get them over and done with?”

“Why did that note from your friend Cruise say Eric on it?”

“Because it wasn’t from Cruise. It was from my old . . . boss, a friend. Acquaintances. I don’t know what to call them. I consider them friends and allies more than anything else.”

“So it’s like an inside joke?”

“It was an alias I went by at one time.”

“Eric? Eric,” she repeats, trying out the name. “It doesn’t fit you.”

Chuckling, I ask, “And Jason does?”

“Yes. To me, it’s just a part of who you are. Like Cuddle Bear.” This time she laughs.

I go to her. Taking her hand in mine, I say, “You can call me that if you like.”

She bumps up against me playfully. “Okay, Cuddle Bear.”

“Anything else you’re wondering about?”

“The Oreos.”

“Now that is an inside joke. It’s not even funny. I like Oreos, and I ate someone else’s.”

Digging the toe of her shoe into the ground, she says, “Yeah, guess you had to be there.”

“What’s wrong?”

“When you tell these stories about being shot or working on movie sets, I feel like you’ve lived a whole exciting lifetime without me. You went on adventures and saw the country. You lived a life I thought I’d be sharing with you. I worry I won’t be enough for you.”

“You feel left out because I was shot?”

That earns me a half smile. “Not that. You know what I mean.”

“I do, but no matter where I traveled or who I met, nothing compares to being on that farm with you. If I could change things I would. I would come back after college for you.” We start walking along the bank. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“All right.”

“I know you’re recently divorce—”

“Oh my God. Are you going to ask me to marry you?”

“What? No.” A hand flies to my hair, and I run it through. “Wait. I mean—” The heartbreak on her face does me in. I rush to cup her head in my hands. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m so sorry. I thought you meant you were going to ask me.” She looks away, as if she’s too embarrassed to look at me. “Forget it. Forget I said anything.”

An ache grows in my chest seeing the pain on this woman’s face. “If you’d say yes, I’d marry you right now.” Beautiful eyes the color of bluebirds peer up at me. She wears her heart on her sleeve for everyone to see. It’s battered like mine but filled with so much love to give. “I would.”

“I’m a recently divorced, almost bankrupt farmer in the middle of nowhere. My spirit has been bruised along with my body. I have a lot more scars than I had when I was wearing that Freeland County tiara. I feel older than my years because of them. And here you come, riding back into town, and screwing up my plans of being a spinster the rest of my life.”

“You know why? Because when I heard you were single again, all the plans I made suddenly seemed secondary to you. Scars don’t scare me. I have a lot of my own. As for your divorce, I say this is my lucky day. It’s as if Cupid himself had a say in the matter. I also think you’re more stunning than the day we fell in love.”

“Which time?”

“Both. Age doesn’t hold a candle to your beauty. But who cares if we get lines and both age if we’re living a good life and growing old together?” Taking her by the hips and wiggling them back and forth a bit, I say, “I’m not sorry about ruining your plan to grow old alone.”

With a pretty smile on her face, she asks, “Why are you so good to me?”

“Because you deserve good. Lots of it, and I intend to give it to you for the rest of your life.”

“I love when you give it to me.”

Leading her back to the bike, I say, “Speaking of giving it to you . . .”

* * *

With my ass pressed to the leather, Delilah slides down my hard cock. Seated to the hilt, her head falls back and her hair sways across my thighs. When she tilts forward, she says, “I will never get tired of how good you feel inside me.”

Fuck. “Show me how good I feel to you.”

“So good,” she rasps.

My stomach muscles tighten from the sound. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last long, babe.”

She moves faster, her eyes closed, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Don’t come yet. I’m so close, Jason.”

She’s an angel under a halo of strawberry-blond hair. A vixen who knows how to command her pleasure. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Oh, yes. Jason,” she releases on a sharp-edged breath, her body tremors and her hands squeeze like that perfect pussy of hers.

“Fuck.” I grab her by the hips and hold her down while I thrust until I’m emptied of everything held deep inside—my emotions, my secrets, my come, my sins. Everything is given to this goddess who rules my world and is healing my soul.

My lids are heavy, and I drop my forehead against her chest, trying to catch my breath. I look at her, her gaze on me. She runs her fingers through my hair, and says, “I’d marry you if you asked. I want you to ask not for me, but for you. We’re not in a hurry. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you.” We kiss and things feel settled between us in the good kind of way. “We should get back.”

“It’s a shame to leave somewhere so beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here again.”

“I’m glad we came.” I wink, amused by the double entendre.

“So, do you always carry condoms in your pocket?”

“Only when I’m with you.”

“Good answer, Mr. Koster. Good answer.”

Once we’re redressed and back on the bike ready to go, I lean back and ask, “You ready?”

“Ready for anything.”

* * *

I’ve been negligent. I’ve been back long enough to have stopped by to say hi, so here I am, walking along the far side of the field. The little house looks to be in good shape. Ricardo and Paloma always did take care of it.

I find Ricardo on top of a tractor. He cuts the engine when he sees me. Leaning on the steering wheel, a smile that time recorded in the deep lines surrounding his mouth appears. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to come by.”

Kicking the large tire, I gaze up using my hand to protect my eyes from the sun. “I should have come sooner.”

He climbs down and we shake hands. “It’s good to see you, son. How are ya?”

“I’m good. Staying out at the farm and helping Delilah with chores. You?”

He sits on the step, shadowed by the tractor, and takes off his hat to wipe his forehead. “Keepin’ on with the keepin’ on. Heard you were hanging around these parts.”

“Yeah,” I say, looking toward the farmhouse in the distance. “Never thought I’d be out here again—”

“But here you are.” He smiles. “She’s always been a good girl.”

“She has.” I shove my hands in my pockets. The conversation is awkward when I don’t want it to be. “I wanted to come by and say hi because things are getting serious with Delilah.”

“Gettin’?”

“Maybe already are.”

“That’s what I thought, considering that truck of yours seems to be permanently parked over there.” He stands, but puts his foot on the step, the lightness already making room for the talk I knew was coming. “It’s not been easy for her. If you’re planning on leaving anytime soon then best be doing it now. She doesn’t need another broken heart.”

“I’m not leaving anytime soon.” I glance over when a car drives by. When I turn back, I look him in the eye. “I’m going to marry her this time.”

“You do right by her if you do. She deserves better than she’s gotten.”

“I carry that regret heavy on my shoulders every day. If I would have known—”

“Don’t let it weigh you down too much. I was right here and . . .” His gaze goes to the ground between us, and for the first time in my life, Ricardo looks . . . regretful. His body slumps. “We can’t change what’s happened.” The dark brown eyes hold more than memories, but are still optimistic. “I know you well enough, Jason, to know you’ll do right by her. But if you don’t, we own two shotguns, and Paloma and I aren’t afraid to use them.”

“I’d forgotten how you never messed around.”

“My days are long but there never seems to be enough time. I don’t have time to beat around the bush.” He reaches forward, and we shake hands again. “Good to see you, son. Since you’re hanging around, feel free to come give me an afternoon off here and there,” he jokes.

“I will.”

Sitting atop the old tractor, he says, “Make sure to say hello to my wife or she’ll give me a hard time. She’s not home right now, but she’s been dying to see you.”

Delilah is fortunate to have them nearby. They care about her. They were there for her when I wasn’t, and I’m thankful she has them in her life. “She could have come over anytime. Both of you. You’re always welcome. You know that.”

“Eh, I told her to give you and Delilah some time to grow together. I see it worked.”

Chuckling, I reply, “It sure did. Thanks for that.”