Love Notes

by Michelle Windsor

  “I think she does.” We spend the next forty minutes walking through the rest of the barn, where I show her how we milk the cows and store it, and where the feed and hay are kept. She seems genuinely interested and asks me a million questions. As we exit the barn, I point to the main house and explain that it’s where my parents and brother live, and then point out where we plant the different crops.

  “You don’t live here with your parents?”

  “I live in the old caretaker cottage just on the other side of that knoll. I think they got tired of hearing my guitar all hours of the night, so they kicked me over there a few years ago.” I point in the direction of the cottage. “Do you want to see it?”

  “Sure, I’d love to.”

  “You okay to walk? We can drive the truck over if you want?”

  She looks up at me and smiles. “I think I can manage to walk that far. I’m not that much of a princess.”

  “Hey, I was just trying to be a gentleman.” I give her a devilish smirk and take off in the direction of the cottage. “So, now that you know everything about me, do I get to ask you a few questions?”

  “You can ask.” She grins at me mischievously. “But I’m not going to promise that I’ll answer.”

  “Fair enough.” I walk a minute, thinking about what to ask her first, and decide to start with the basics. “Okay, let’s start with the easy ones. How old are you?”

  She laughs out loud and gives my hand a little jerk. “Don’t you know that you’re never supposed to ask a woman her age?”

  “Oh! You’re a woman . Alrighty then, I’ll go with thirty-eight. You’ve got a few wrinkles coming in around your eyes, and yep, I think I see some age spots as well.” I bend over and examine her face. “You actually may be too old for me. Maybe I should just walk you back to your car now?”

  “Oh, hush!” She giggles and lets out an exasperated groan. “I’m twenty-three. How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-five, so we’re actually pretty close in age.” I look over at her and smile. We’re cresting the hill now and can see the cottage up ahead.

  “Oh!” She reaches up with her hand and stretches it flat. “I think it’s starting to rain.” She looks up at the sky and flinches when a few drops land directly on her face. She laughs and looks at me, her eyes bright with delight. “Definitely starting to rain.”

  No sooner are the words out of her mouth, a loud rumble of thunder echoes across the valley, the skies open up, and rain pours down. “Shit! Run!” Gripping her hand more tightly, I run with her across the rest of the field until we’re up on the porch of the cottage. I throw the door open and pull her inside where it’s dry. We’re both drenched and dripping water everywhere on the floor, but one look at each other and we burst out laughing. I’m not even sure why we’re laughing, but we can’t seem to stop. We finally get to a point where we are just lightly wheezing, and that’s when I notice that her soaked shirt is basically transparent.

  She must see the shift in my expression because she looks down to where my gaze is locked and then gasps, throwing her hands up to cover her peaked nipples under the wet fabric. “Oh my God!”

  “Sorry!” I throw my hand across my eyes. “I didn’t mean to look. I mean, I looked down, and then I saw, and I know I should have looked away, and I was going to, but… Oh, shit.” I spin around and, uncovering my eyes, walk across my small living room area and into the bathroom. I grab a towel and, looking down at the floor the entire time, walk back to her and hand it to her. “Here, take this. The bathroom is right back there.” I point. “I’ll get you something dry to wear.”

  She plucks the towel from my hand and dashes past me into the bathroom, the door shutting quickly behind her. Okay, I know I should feel worse, but damn it, I don’t. Seeing her wet and exposed like that made me want to peel that shirt off her and see what one of those wet nipples would feel like between my lips. Fuck, now my dick is getting hard. I need to change my train of thought.

  I walk to my bedroom and peel off my own wet shirt and then my jeans. I’m pulling on a dry pair when I hear the bathroom door open behind me. I turn around and just about lose my fucking mind. She’s standing there, wrapped in just the towel I gave her, her hair tied in a knot on top of her head, and she’s staring right at me.

  * * *

  CHAPTER SIX

  S weet mother of all things holy, including the way Justin looks without his shirt on. I mean, come on! Who looks this good? It’s just not fair! I was having a hard enough time being around him with his clothes on, and now that I’m seeing him like this, how am I supposed to even function? My eyes travel down the length of his torso—his perfectly sculpted, lightly bronzed, all the bumps in the right places, torso. He’s not bulky at all. He’s lean and firm, and oh my God, my fingers are itching to follow the trail of hair that starts at his pecs and travels in a dusty line right down to the opening of his jeans.

  “Stop looking at me like that.” It comes out low and slightly resembles a growl.

  “Like what?” I volley back in defense, trying to avert my eyes. “I just wanted to see if you have a shirt I can borrow.”

  He walks to the closet, pulls a shirt off a hanger, and stalks slowly in my direction, his eyes traveling the length of my body, making me suddenly aware of how very naked I am under this towel. I step back as he continues to move forward, until I bump up against the wall, stopping me in place. When he’s directly in front of me, he finally stops, but leans in, placing the hand not holding the shirt on the wall beside my head, effectively trapping me in place.

  I slowly raise my eyes to look into his. His brows are furrowed, his eyes dark, his breath warm as he lets out a long sigh. He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body and am surprised steam isn’t rising around us. “I really want to kiss you right now, but I’m a little afraid.”

  My heart stutters in my chest before I can speak. “Afraid of what?”

  He leans in even closer and whispers, “I’m afraid I’m never going to want to stop.” And then his lips are against mine, and they are so warm and so soft and feel like they were meant to fit mine. The world feels like it’s shifting on its axis, and I reach out until my hand wraps around his bicep to try and keep myself from falling. I hear the soft swish of fabric as the shirt he was holding falls to the floor. His hand grips the back of my head instead, my hair falling out of its makeshift bun and around my face. His other hand leaves the wall and brushes the hair away to cradle my face, his body shifting to press against mine.

  And, yes, his body is just as warm as I thought it would be, my grip loosening on his arm so I can wrap it around his neck. His kisses are light and gentle and in stark contrast to how hard his body feels, making me want so much more. I wrap my other hand around his back and pull myself tighter to him, my leg wrapping around his, my towel raising to an X-rated level. His hand shifts to my leg and grasps onto it as he rocks his pelvis into mine.

  My head falls back against the wall as I moan at the ripple of desire that just tripled when his hard length rubbed against my core. I can feel how wet I am and wonder for a brief moment if evidence of that just transferred to his jeans. That thought is quickly washed away when his mouth moves down my neck, first nipping lightly, followed by his tongue soothing away the sting of his little bites.

  I can’t help myself when my hand slides down his bare back, into his loose jeans, and latches onto his ass to push his hips back into mine. I grind into him, and the scratch of the denim rubs against my clit, my entire body tightening at the sensation.

  “Tell me to stop right now or I’m not going to be able to.” His mouth is at my ear, his teeth latching gently onto my lobe as he lets out a tortured breath.

  I turn and move my lips so I can capture his mouth with mine and start to pull him closer when the front door suddenly swings open.

  “Yo, Justin! You here?” A young man, wearing a wet, yellow rain slicker is standing in the door frame. Luckily, we see him before he sees us,
and Justin spins around and stands in front of me, his body effectively blocking me from view. I look down to make sure the towel is still in place and find that, thankfully, it is.

  “What the fuck, Jonathan? Knock much?” The flat of my hand is on Justin’s back, and I can feel the vibration of his anger through his skin. “Wait outside!”

  “Shit!” I hear some stumbling and footsteps and then the door shutting. “Sorry, man! Didn’t realize you had company.”

  Justin bends down, swiping the dropped shirt off the floor, and then rises, spinning back to me. “I’m so sorry. That’s my idiot brother.” He places the shirt, a blue denim button-up, in my hands. “Let me go see what he wants.”

  I nod my head, my tongue frozen in place, then slide one naked arm and then the other into the soft shirt as I watch him walk outside. I turn my back to the door and then pull the towel loose so I can button the shirt. It falls to my thighs, covering all the important bits, but my nipples are still being traitorous and poke at the fabric. I secure the last button and turn when I hear the door open and Justin walk back through.

  “Looks like Maisy’s going to calve today. Jonathan and Dad need me down at the barn.” His eyes slide down my body and then back to my face as a smile graces his lips. “You look good in my shirt.”

  I can’t help the roll of my eyes. “Cliché much?”

  He shrugs and I watch as he pulls a t-shirt out of a drawer before yanking it over his head and then down over his torso. I want to sigh in disappointment, but I did just make a comment about clichés so bite my tongue.

  “Just know what I like when I see it.” His lips turn up in a cocky grin. “Will you be okay here for a little bit? There’s a dryer in the closet in the bathroom that you can use for your clothes.

  “Sure.” I clench my fingers around the cuffs of the too-long sleeves covering my hands and shift in my stocking clad feet when he stops in front of me.

  “Sorry we got interrupted.” He leans in, and his lips brush lightly against mine, warm and dry. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Okay,” I manage to squeak out.

  “You’re so Goddamn adorable when you blush.” His face lights up with a wide grin, and then he’s out the door.

  * * *

  SIX LONG HOURS LATER, I walk over the knoll and back to the cottage. I think it’s got to be just after eight, as the sun just set, and shake my head in frustration at making her wait so long. The cottage looks dark so I wonder if she left. I didn’t even think to look to see if her car was still in the drive when I left the barn.

  I step up onto the porch, slide my muddy boots off, and then open the door. I switch on a lamp, washing the room in a soft glow, and frown as I glance around the room and note it’s empty. I pull my shirt over my head and unbuckle my belt then my button and let my jeans slide down my legs before stepping out of them. I’m covered in slime and just want a hot shower. As I walk past the couch, I see a piece of paper with words scribbled on it. At least, she left a note.

  I pad toward the bathroom but freeze in place when I glance toward the bedroom. It’s dark, but I can make out a silhouetted form outlined on my bed and pause as I realize she’s still here. I take a couple steps into the room, confirming it’s not an illusion as I take in her golden hair strewn across my pillow, soft breaths gently leaving her in a light snore, and can’t help the smile that I feel lifting my cheeks. She stayed. I run my fingers delicately over the soft strands of her hair and marvel a moment that she waited.

  I turn and tip-toe to the bathroom and take a quick shower. I climb out, dry off, wrap the towel around my waist, and then notice that the clothes we were wearing earlier are folded neatly on the end of the counter. Treading as quietly as possible, I creep into the bedroom, find a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and slip back out into the living area. I slide the clothes on and then sit on the couch for a minute. Should I wake her up, climb into bed beside her, or wait here until she wakes? I reach up, absently scratching the scruff on my face, when I notice her note on the table.

  I pick it up and start reading and realize that it’s not a note at all, but a poem? Or, maybe, the start of one?

  a low-lit bar in the sunset heat

  voice that makes me stare in wonder

  crazy rhythm lingers and whiskey neat

  lightning strikes rumbles dark thunder

  * * *

  H OLY S HIT. I digest the words again. This is about how we met. The words are so simple but say so much. She told me she was a writer but didn’t say what she wrote. Poems? Stories? It’s a little love note. Another layer has bloomed, and my decision has been made.

  I place the paper back on the table, rise, and walk quietly into the bedroom. I loom over the bed for a moment, gaining a bit of courage, then slide under the covers. She moans softly, turns to me, snuggles up against me like a kitten, and I wrap my arms around her. Her body is warm and her scent like roses as I inhale. I listen to the cadence of her breathing until it settles into a steady rhythm again, my eyes finally closing as I drift off.

  * * *

  I ROLL over and instantly realize that the bed is empty. Quickly getting out of the bed, I move around the small cottage to see if she’s in the living space or bathroom, but it’s empty. I let out a sigh of disappointment as I glance at the clock. It’s only five-thirty and still dark out. I wonder what time she left and worry because it had to have been pitch black out there. I slide my bare feet into my boots, grab a sweatshirt off a hook by the door, and walk outside in the direction of where her car was parked. I won’t have a moment’s peace until I at least know she made it to her car safely.

  Stupid girl. Doesn’t she know there are wolves out here sometimes? It’s a farm, for crying out loud. They are always lingering around for the smaller stock and chickens. The sun is starting to show over the horizon, and I’m glad, as it’s making the hike over to the main drive a little easier. I reach the knoll and can see now that her car is gone. I frown, disappointed that I didn’t wake up with her in my arms. Turning, I head back to the house. I didn’t even get her damn telephone number, so I can’t even call her. Now, who’s the stupid one?

  I walk back inside the cottage and make myself a couple eggs and toast before heading to the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth. I flip on the light and walk over to the sink, turning on the faucets. I glance up at the mirror and freeze, a huge smile breaking across my face. I read the message she’s left for me in red lipstick and realize it’s Saturday, and that means I’ll be singing at Hook’s Landing later. That means I’ll be seeing her. The day just got a whole lot brighter.

  See ya at the bar tonight, handsome!

  XO Sydney

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I try to roll over, and when I can’t, my eyes fly open in panic. It lasts only a second as I realize Justin must have joined me sometime during the night and it’s his arms that are holding me in place. He’s breathing heavily, and I wonder how long he’s been asleep. I relax against him and relish the feeling of being in his arms. But then my mind wanders to that kiss from earlier. Holy crap. That was the best first kiss of all first kisses ever. If his brother hadn’t walked in, I’m not sure we would have stopped.

  I reach up and trace my fingers over my lips, remembering the way his felt on mine. Warm and soft and perfect. That’s what they felt like. I let out a long sigh. What am I doing? Even though he hasn’t told me as much, Kelly mentioned that he’s leaving at the end of the summer. Do I really want to do this to myself? I look up at his face, so relaxed, so beautiful even in sleep, and I find my answer. Yes. Why the hell not? Life is way too short not to take a chance every now and then.

  But, that being the case, I also know that when he wakes up, if I’m still here, things are probably going to go to the next level way too quickly. And, even though I was pretty close to going there yesterday, I’m thinking a little more sensibly now that he’s not kissing me. I slide myself slowly from his grasp and out of the bed. I walk s
oftly to the bathroom and pull on my shorts but decide to leave his shirt on. After pulling my lipstick from my pocket and leaving him a note, I grab my sweater and boots and carry them outside, quietly shutting the front door behind me.

  I pull on my boots and look up, realizing its pitch black out here. Of course, I left my cell in my car, so using the flashlight isn’t an option. Biting my lip, I look out over the field, waiting for my eyes to adjust, and wonder if I can do this. It’s dark and creepy, and I can hear things howling in the distance. I pull my big girl panties up, step off the porch, and decide to just walk really fast and look straight ahead. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? A big, bad wolf is going to come and get me?

  * * *

  I GLANCE at the door as it swings open, frowning when I see it’s just one of our regulars, Joe, and not Justin. I look at the clock for about the twentieth time this afternoon, registering that it’s only three-thirty, and shake my head. When he came in to set up last week, it was around this time, but there’s no guarantee it’s his regular time. I scold myself again for not remembering to leave him my number and having to go through this torture all afternoon of just waiting for him to show up. Because there is no way I am calling him.

  I absently grab a Bud Lite from the cooler, twist off the cap, and slide it across the bar to Joe, my eyes glued to the door. “You waiting for someone, Syd?”

  I swing my gaze to Joe, realize how rude I’m being, and offer him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Joe. Just thinking about a couple things.”