by Lila Felix
“It was a silly boy’s dream too.” I clenched the tapestry-like comforter on the bed to stop myself from going to her.
She giggled. “You’re far from a boy, now.”
“And you’re far from a girl.”
Nothing could stop me now.
I marched across the room with one mission and one mission only. From the look in her eyes, she had the same idea. Our bodies and lips collided in a rush like we’d been starved for each other for way too long.
Her lips were soft and full against mine, just like I remembered. A slight moan came from her mouth as we progressed into a more passionate embrace.
I stopped it before we gave a new meaning to honeymoon suite. It wasn’t the time, and it wasn’t the place.
I hoped one day it would be the right time.
I broke away from our kiss and looked down at her, mouth still open and eyes still closed. “I have another proposal for you.”
Smiling, she kept her eyes closed. “That’s not fair after you-lips-you-kiss.” She stuttered.
She tipped her head and laid it against my chest.
“I think you and I should go back to the Boulder after this tour. It will give you some new perspective. I’ve got a cabin in the woods behind the main house with your name on it. No visitors, no guests, unless you want it – no going into town either. Just a fresh perspective and some good, quiet writing time.”
“What’s the catch?” she asked. I could feel her warm breath break the barrier of my shirt and go straight into my heart.
“Well, you’d have to stay married to me a little longer, I suppose. My family would be happy to see you and you don’t have to see yours if you don’t want to. We won’t publicize any of this. As far as your readers know, you would be back in Washington state, chilling with the sasquatches.”
“The longer we wait to process the divorce…”
“What? Say it, Viv.”
“The harder it will be for me. The harder it will be to undo it.”
“Just think about it, darlin’. Fresh country air might be good for you. We can leave as soon as the last leg of the tour is done. Just change your flight.”
She sighed again, this time looking up into my eyes. We shared the same breaths, and it was all I could do not to reach down and convince her with my mouth instead of my words.
From the faint whimpers she made the last time I kissed her, it was a viable option.
“Come on, Viv. Stay married to me just a little longer.”
Chapter Nine
Vivian
MAYBE I HAD a concussion? Maybe it was a brain tumor? Could I just be losing my mind altogether? It was the only possible explanation as to why I was standing in front of Brent’s house on his ranch Boulder.
As my short-lived book tour ended, I had it all planned out for me to go back to Washington, lock myself away in the world of my imagination, and work on my next book. Instead, I was planted back in Texas in the same small town I ran away from ten years ago. I never dreamed of coming back here, let alone being married to Brent Rush.
“It seems bigger than I remember.” I grabbed my laptop bag and purse.
I stared up at the two story house. It looked exactly the same. The bright white siding shined against the blue window shutters. The wrap-around porch still had hanging plants in full bloom. Not to forget the window sill plants. The memories of me helping plant and water them every year came rushing back to me. I couldn’t count the number of times Brent and I ran around this porch or how many times we sat on the swing looking out on the land eating popsicles or drinking Kool-Aid. I could almost smell Brent’s dad working the grill in the backyard and the smell of hay coming from the barn when there was a deep breeze.
“It’s the same. Although on some days it feels never ending.” He gathered up my luggage and headed into the house.
It still smelled the same. Apple pie and love. I could remember as a child running into the house and hugging Brent’s mom, Pam, tightly around her waist. She was the mother one would see on TV. Hard working, loving, caring, and the best cook around. There were many times I wished she was my mom.
“Keep mixing, Viv.” Brent laughed at me. “Haven’t you made brownies before?”
“No, my mom doesn’t bake.” I whisked faster.
“Baking is an essential in life.” Pam came in and hugged my shoulders. “You’re doing great.”
My heart warmed and my smile grew as she gave Brent and me more instructions on the batter. With her help, we were able to get them into the oven.
After the timer went off and they were cooled, Pam let us each sample one.
“These are delicious.” I hummed over the gooey, chocolatey goodness.
“It’s because you made them.” Her smile was warm and genuine. It was something a real mother would show to her daughter or son.
“Where did you say your parents moved?” I set down my purse on the table in the foyer.
“They decided to move into town. The ranch became too much for them.” He carried the bags upstairs and I followed him. “I couldn’t bear to leave the place. It’s home.”
I understood what he meant. This was home to me most of my years here. It had been hard to leave, but I needed to find myself. Had I stayed I would have gotten fatter and lost myself in Brent’s shadow. He wasn’t an Alpha type but extremely protective. He always had my back no matter the situation. I loved that, but I couldn’t rely on it either. I had to stand on my own two feet.
“I thought you would be comfortable in here.” He opened his old bedroom door.
I held back my gasp as it was decorated in simple tones of red and gray. My favorite colors. There was a large bed on the far wall, but my eyes went to the large oak desk facing the window which highlighted the ranch. I walked over and slowly ran my hands over the smooth top. I almost felt the creative juices pulsing through me.
“I thought this would be perfect for you to work and I promise not to disrupt you.” He set down my bags on the bed. “The bathroom is down the hall and you have plenty of room to put up your girly stuff. I’m sure you remember where everything is. I hope you feel at home here.” He touched my shoulder as he walked out of the room.
The strangest feeling came over me. An almost peaceful feeling. It felt so unreal being back here. I stared out the window and saw the land I played on many years ago. I helped till the garden, planted the vegetables, moved the cattle, rode the horses. I knew every part of this land.
It was home.
I moved about the room, hanging my clothes, arranging my items and my laptop on the desk to the fashion I liked. I put away all my toiletries, and when I came back into the bedroom, I decided I should write. I sat down and started to plan out the next book I had been thinking about for the past week when I saw Brent outside walking around. I knew he was heading toward the barn.
Before I could blink, or overthink it, I ran to the closet and slipped into a pair of jeans and grabbed my boots. You could take the girl from Texas but couldn’t take her out of her boots. I jogged out to the barn but didn’t see Brent. I went up to the horses, a few of them I didn’t remember, but a few were from when I was last here. I petted each of them. I wanted them each to know my scent before I invaded their space.
After several moments of making my rounds with the horses, I found a shovel and made my way to the first stall and began to clean it out. I didn’t know how long I was working before someone cleared their throat next to me.
I jumped. “Don’t scare me.”
“Sorry. What are you doing?” He chuckled.
“Helping out.” I stated the obvious by holding up the shovel.
“Why aren’t you writing your book?”
“Because there were things that need to be done around here. You’ve been gone a while and I know how hard it is on a farm to play catch up.”
I turned around and went back to the task at hand. Brent’s eyes were staring at me. I could feel it through my skin. However, I didn’t turn
back to him.
“I’m going to check the fence line. I’ll be back in a bit.” I didn’t respond to him and continued my chore.
When I finished, I headed back into the house and cleaned up. I was famished and was certain he would be as well. I had forgotten how much work manual labor was since it had been forever since I’d done it. I searched his cabinets and decided on grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. It was quick, easy, and filling. I remembered his mom making this exact meal for us a million times in our childhood. Plus, I wasn’t the greatest cook and didn’t want to burn down the house.
“Now, what are you doing?”
I yelped in fright. “Stop sneaking up on me.” I hit his shoulder. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
He laughed. “I wasn’t sneaking up on you. The back door slammed shut. You were lost in thought.”
“I was.” I moved the plated food and the pot of soup over to the table. “Grab some bowls.”
He did as I said and I took a seat at the table.
“Why did you do all this?” He handed me a bowl.
“I’m hungry and I figured you are too.”
“I am.” He ladled the soup for me and then himself.
“How was the fence line?”
“All good. Nothing caught up in it and nothing knocked down.” He went on about the cattle and how he’ll have to sell a few of them later this month at auction.
“Do you need money?” A slight panic came over me. Was he broke? Did I need to loan him money?
“No.” He glared at me. “I just need to thin out the herd a bit. I’m not broke.”
His tone was like ice, and I definitely hit a nerve. “I don’t mean to offend. I know how much this ranch means to you.”
He glared at me for a second.
“I mean it. I will help if you need it.”
“I have money and I don’t need yours. Thanks anyway.” He quickly got up from the table and headed back outside, without finishing his food.
Sometimes I forgot how to be around people. Spending all my time in the fictional world I’ve created made me closed off from the reality of real people. I’ve never been one to be a real conversationalist. Only Brent brought that out of me. But it has been a long time since I’ve allowed someone in my life. Then again, he convinced me to move back to Billings and marry him. He still had a tight hold on me, and I knew it.
When Brent did get mad, it was always best to leave him alone. He didn’t get upset often, but from time to time I got on his nerves enough for him to take a walk alone. I wasn’t going to go after him. I finished my soup and sandwich and cleaned up the kitchen. I left a note on the fridge letting him know his food was in the microwave and I’d gone upstairs.
I turned on my laptop, hit the iHeartRadio app and tuned into my favorite country station. As Lauren Alaina’s “Road Less Traveled” started, the words should have begun to flow out of me. But nothing happened. I stared at my notes. Usually it would help my creativeness, but I got nothing.
Seriously – nothing.
How could this be happening to me? I came out here and now I have nothing. I scrolled through my notes again hoping something would hit me, but even the descriptions of my characters didn’t make sense. I rubbed my forehead and pulled out my earbuds. The music was becoming more of a nuisance than helpful. Music was my other escape, and it seemed everything was going wrong.
It had to be because I was here.
However, as I looked out the window at the setting sun, I felt like this was home. Looking out at my cabin there were massive trees and wooded land, which I loved, but right now I could see all the way until there was nothing.
Now if I could just figure out how to get this book written.
Chapter Ten
Brent
“I’M TAKING YOU to the cabin.”
Vivian looked pained. “Um, Brent. I’m pretty sure I’ve used that exact same line in one of my books. Except the guy who said it was about to take a girl to a cabin and kill her. Are you trying to get rid of me already?”
I gave her my best ridiculous look. “If I’d wanted to get rid of you, it would’ve already happened. Remember? You wanted to get rid of me the first day we were married. I could’ve agreed immediately and none of this would’ve ever happened. You could’ve left me like you did all those years ago.”
She absentmindedly played with a book in her lap. “I was shocked. I was scared. I was angry and didn’t really know what to do. I’m…I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. It wasn’t you. It was me.”
“Maybe one day we can work through all of that. I hope that we can be totally honest with each other. I don’t want to live my whole life wondering.”
“One day we will. I promise.” She smiled at me. I’d watched her over the past few weeks. It wasn’t the robotic smile she gave everyone else. The smile my wife gave me came from somewhere that no one else had touched.
“So, let’s go.”
“Why? I like it here.”
I chuckled. “I know. But I think you like it a little too much. You haven’t been writing. Instead, you’ve been helping with the horses and doing work around here that you’ve got no business tending to. You need to write. I won’t be the reason that you have stalled out writing.”
“I’m just taking a break.”
“I know. And I love that you’re enjoying yourself here. But as a fan, I kind of want you to get back to work. I need to know what happened to Deidre from the last book. You kind of left us hanging.”
That got her going. She stood up and put a hand on her perfectly shaped hip. “That was a cliffhanger, Brent. Every author does it.”
“I know, but I need to know what happens. Wait!” I took a few strides toward her and got closer to her than I had in days. I hadn’t allowed myself to get close to her. I knew I would kiss her again and I wasn’t sure she wanted that to happen. If she did, she hadn’t made it known by her words or actions. I reached down and took her hands in mine, threading our fingers together. “Do I get some kind of insider first look information since I’m your husband? Or...does that require a bribe?”
Her eyes became glassy as if she was on the verge of either crying or losing herself. I hoped it was the latter.
“No?”
Yep, I had her.
“No what? You won’t accept a bribe or no you wouldn’t deny your number one fan a sneak peek?”
The entire time I spoke, I focused my gaze on her plump lips. Even when she was working in the stalls, she kept some kind of lipstick on them that made them look like the ripest berry, ready to pluck from the vine.
“Isn’t there anything I can do?” I pressed further, bending down and breathing the question into her ear. She shivered in turn. This close to her neck, she smelled like something between morning dew and the sweetest honeysuckle that we used to eat as kids.
“Brent, I, wait, no!” She suddenly remembered what I was asking of her.
“No? Not even if I do this?” I lowered my mouth to her neck and placed a line of chaste kisses in the direction of her shoulder.
“I’ll let you read the first draft. That’s something no one gets to do. But it has to be finished first. No peeking before I type the last words.”
“Deal.” I pulled back in an instant and broke our spell.
“You’re really mean,” she said, playfully slapping my behind.
“You’re one to talk.”
“Just show me the cabin so I can write, or you can kill me there, whichever it is.”
She was already killing me slowly. She probably didn’t even know it.
It was a two mile hike to the cabin and it was primitive, to a point. It had all the comforts of home without the frills. There was a king-size bed and a huge claw tub. Hot water, a phone, and even internet was installed.
But everything else was simpler.
“This is great. Wait, wasn’t this…”
“Yep. Grammy and Pap’s honeymoon cabin. He claimed that every on
e of his kids had been conceived here. That’s probably why no one ever used it after that.”
She laughed. “You had it cleaned, right?”
“Definitely. That’s even a new bed. I couldn’t keep that old one. It was just…” I shuddered at the thought.
“I think it’s sweet. He built this for them to...show each other how much they loved one another while they were here. You don’t see that kind of romance anymore.”
“I’ve got an idea,” I said and instantly thought better of it. She probably wouldn’t want to go. It was stupid of me to even ask.
“Yeah?”
“How about a swim tonight? Just you and me and the lake.”
Viv looked at the floor and the slightest of blushes crept up her cheeks. “I don’t know. I came here to write, not to swim.”
“It could be your reward for making your word count. You do that. I know you do. On your Facebook feed, you were always talking about giving yourself a reward for meeting your word count.”
“It was usually a Hershey kiss. Twenty-five calories of pure bliss.”
“I can bring those to the swim, or maybe a different kind of kiss.” My wife sighed beside me and I knew I wouldn’t win anything by pressuring her. “How about this? How about I go take care of my business and you write the heck out of whatever you’re writing and tonight, about seven, you either meet me at the lake’s edge or you don’t. You remember the place, don’t you?”
Her blush bloomed fully and I knew that she did. I wouldn’t forget that place as long as I lived.
She nodded. “I remember. Let’s see how much I get done.” I stood there, caught up in the storm of memories. “But you have to leave so I can work. Scoot.”
Before I knew it, Viv had pushed me out of the cabin and slammed the door behind me. I heard the bottom of the desk chair scratch the floor as she pulled it from its resting place.
She was getting down to business and tonight it was about time I get down to mine.
