MICHELLE
I wake in a strange bed and a strange room and sit bolt upright, clutching the blankets to my chest as David pushes through the door. "Good morning, beautiful." His smile is sad and I remember everything about last night in one great rush.
"Good morning, handsome. Where’s Claire?" I return his smile as the lush scent of coffee, pancakes, and sausage follows him through the door. "Oh my God. Did you make breakfast?"
David perches on the edge of the bed. "Claire’s downstairs eating breakfast, curtesy of my mother and her total lack of boundaries." He shrugs. "But if I'm being honest, when the lack of boundaries results in breakfast this good, I don't mind." He raises his eyebrows and smirks. "Much."
I take a deep breath in through my nose and let it out, savoring the smell of a home-cooked meal that I didn't have to wake up early to make myself. Light streams through the cracks in the curtains covering the large windows on the wall opposite the bed. I can't remember the last time I got out of bed after the sun came up.
"I'm sorry I slept so late.”
"Don't be. I just hope we didn't wake you. We Carmichaels aren’t known for our quiet demeanors." David puts a hand on my foot and gives it a squeeze. "But breakfast is ready, if you're up for it."
"If it tastes half as good as it smells, I'm definitely up for it." I let the blankets fall as I slide out of bed, revealing my bare breasts and naked ass.
"Speaking of up for it..." David stands and appraises me. "Having you curled up next to me all night was wonderful. I could get used to sleeping like that."
I dig through the bag of clothes I threw together, surprised by how comfortable I am being sans clothing in front of him. "Oh believe me, the pleasure was all mine." I give him a look and then drop my eyes as I remember how I balled up my fist and bit into it to keep from screaming in ecstasy last night. “But I don’t think there was much sleeping happening, was there?”
I get dressed and pull my hair up into a messy bun before following him downstairs where I hear Claire chattering and laughing with David's family.
"There she is." Annabelle opens her arms towards me with a smile. She grabs a plate and loads it up with more food than I could ever hope to eat, and plops it down on the table. "How do you take your coffee, dear?"
"No need to bother yourself." I say. "I can get it myself."
Annabelle flutters her hands at me. "Nonsense. You're a guest in this house."
"My house," David grumbles as he pulls out a chair and takes a seat.
"What, love?" Annabelle glances over her shoulder at him as she grabs a coffee cup.
"This is my house." David laughs. "I thought maybe we needed to be clear about that again."
Colton shakes his head as he cuts into his pancakes and dips a bite in syrup pooling on the plate. "You keep saying that like you think it's going to mean something to them."
"Michelle?" Annabelle holds out the mug, ignoring her sons. "Coffee?"
"Yes, please." I sit next to David. "Black is fine." I meet Claire's eyes as she gobbles up a bite of her breakfast. "How'd you sleep, Bear?"
"So good, Momma. That bed is like a big, giant, fluffy cloud."
Annabelle sets the coffee down in front of me with a smile. "It's so nice to have a little one around again, isn't it Dean?" She tosses her husband a funny look before turning back to the stove.
Mr. Carmichael raises his eyebrows, glances at Claire, and then rubs the top of her head with his meaty palm. "She's not so bad." He graces my daughter with the warmest of smiles.
Breakfast passes in a series of clinking plates, sarcastic comments, and so much love and familiarity that Claire and I end up catching each other's eyes and suppressing giggles. It's wonderfully outrageous and I think I love it. There was never a shortage of love in my family, at least not from my mom's side of things, which is the family I grew up in. But with my stepdad working a corporate day job and my mom chasing her dream and building the dance studio, family meals just didn't happen. There wasn’t time. I ate breakfast alone in a dark kitchen, making as little noise as possible so I didn't wake anyone. Breakfast with the Carmichaels is the exact opposite of those lonely mornings.
"So, little Claire." Annabelle finally sits as breakfast slows to a close. "Have you ever seen a chicken up close before?"
"I don't think so." She scrunches up her nose. "Have I, Mom?"
I shake my head. "Nope. Not once, not ever."
After having claimed a seat for all of one minute, Annabelle slides her chair back from the table and grabs Claire's empty plate. "Now that is a real shame because they are the silliest little cluckers you'll ever meet." She deposits the plate in the sink. "Do you mind if I take her out with me to gather eggs?" she asks me.
"Not at all. Are you sure you don't mind her tagging along?"
Mrs. Carmichael wipes her hand on the towel hanging from her front pocket before folding it and placing it on the counter. "Not even for a minute. Maggie used to love coming out to the henhouse with me."
Dean pauses with his last bite of sausage midway to his mouth, the fork frozen in air. Colton looks sharply at David. And David just smiles and wipes his face with his napkin before balling it up and dropping it on his plate.
"Thanks, Mom." He stretches his back and presses his hands to his stomach. "That was delicious, as always." He stands and clears his plate before refilling his coffee and then leaning against the counter.
"No problem, love." Annabelle wraps an arm around Claire's shoulders. "You ready to go giggle at some silly cluckers?"
Claire looks to me one last time and I nod my permission before they head out the door, Annabelle chattering merrily until the door swings quietly shut behind them.
"That door used to squeak open and slam shut, didn't it?" I ask, haunted by the sound I hear so clearly in my memory.
Colton laughs. "Not if Dad was sleeping, it didn't."
Dean sits back in his chair. "You and me remember things a little different. I think you mean to say 'only if Dad was sleeping.'" Dean shakes his head. "I'd drift off after a long day and one of you kids would come barreling in the house and that door would slam shut and wake me up every damn time."
David looks at me. "And by one of you kids, Dad means Colton. Sarah and I figured out early on that all was good if we slowed down enough to close the door quietly."
Colton rubs his hands together. "Fixing that door was my first real project around here, wasn't it?"
"Sure was." Dean nods once. "Best way to teach a lesson is through sweat and effort."
David grips the back of my chair and leans around me so I we can make eye contact. "So, Michelle. Are you ready to see the rest of the farm? Maybe get your hands a little dirty? I thought we could get some stuff out of the way here and then go to your house and see about fixing the door."
"Hell, yes." I nod. "Put me to work. I'd love to be useful. And the sooner we can get the door fixed, the better I’ll feel, I think." The thought of going back home at all makes me uncomfortable. After seeing it like that, my stuff strewn around so carelessly, my privacy violated, I’ll never feel safe there again.
Dean and Colton clear their plates and Dean offers to do the dishes, shooing us out of the way when I start looking for the sponge to help. David leads me outside into a crisp morning. Humidity is low, and the sun is warm, and the sky couldn't be clearer if this was a painting of an idyllic landscape. Somewhere off in the distance, I hear Claire giggling over the bleat of the goats. I take a breath and lift my face towards the sun.
"Normally, I'd start in the barn, feeding the animals," David says.
I smile. "Lead on."
Gravel crunches under our feet as we make our way towards the barn. We start by filling the bowls for the cats and checking that they have clean water, and then David introduces me to the goats.
"Their eyes fascinate me." I lean in close to study the creatures lining up to meet me, each pushing past the other in an effort to get closest. "They have rectangular irises. I can't stop looking at it."
"Their personalities are just as unusual." David leans on the door to the pen, his jeans hugging his thighs and his T-shirt accentuating his broad shoulders. When he bends down to scratch one of the goats under her chin, a private smile playing across his full lips, I commit the scene to memory.
David catches me staring. "Why, whatever could you be thinking about, darlin'?" he asks, his eyes roving hungrily over my body.
"What do you mean?" I look as sweet and innocent as I possibly can. "I was just watching you with the goats."
"If that's your goat-watching face, then you have a few dirty secrets I think you need to share with me." David abandons the goats, grabs the belt loops on my jeans, and pulls me into him.
"Eww! David." I press my hands to his chest. "It wasn't the goats I was thinking about."
"Yeah? Then just what, pray tell, were you thinking about?"
"I was busy thinking about how sexy you look." Talking about this kind of stuff makes me uncomfortable, but I know David likes it. And the more honest I am with him, the more I can admit I like it, too. What’s the point of feeling ashamed about telling David how attracted I am to him? "You look damn good in those jeans, so strong and confident, but then you’re so gentle with your animals." I shrug. "I like it."
David presses his forehead to mine. "Good." He slides his hands around my waist and presses my hips forward so I can feel how hard he is. "Ever done it in a barn before?"
I shake my head, my body answering the swell of his cock pressing into my belly with a surge of desire too strong to ignore.
David kisses my throat and then whispers in my ear. "Would you believe that I haven't either?"
"Does this mean I get to be a first for you?" The thought lights me on fire.
Instead of answering, David loops his fingers through my belt loops and leads me farther into the barn, towards a ladder in the corner that reaches up toward a shadowed loft. For a second, I wonder about hay getting into unmentionable places, but then he kisses me, and any and all objections dissipate like smoke on the wind.