by Abby Brooks
Overwhelmed, I stepped out of her embrace and smiled to cover my discomfort. “Now that we've got that out of the way, how about we get started on the real reason I'm here?”
“Right. The real reason you're here.” Morgan’s eyes narrowed, as if she was squinting against the sun, except it was behind her. It looked like she was in pain, and it made me wonder if I was wrong to force that kiss.
Except, damn it, it wasn’t forced. Just like last night, I’d given her the chance to say no and she was the one who’d pressed her lips to mine. I had to be misreading her.
We spent the rest of the afternoon working on the chicken coop and Morgan proved to be a fast learner. Eager to help and easy to work with. Together, we made more progress than I expected. We were going to finish the thing in record time, and that made me sadder than it should. If I didn't have the coop to work on, what excuse would I have to see her?
I paused, wiping sweat off my face with the hem of my shirt. “How you doing? I know I’m ready for a break.”
Morgan's face was pale. A sheen of sweat covered her skin, and it didn't look like the kind that came from a solid day’s work. Dark circles stood out underneath her eyes and she could barely lift them from her feet.
“You okay? What’s wrong?” I put a hand on her shoulder then moved it to her cheek. She felt cool and clammy. Her entire body trembled. What in God’s name was happening?
“I don't think I am.” She let out a shuddering breath. “I had the warning signs of a migraine this morning and I ignored them. I thought it went away, but apparently this was a mistake. I’m sorry, Reuben.” She clutched my shoulder to steady herself.
“Please don't be. I'm the one who’s sorry. If I'd known…” I felt awful. I'd been enjoying the conversation, the company, and the occasional glimpses of her ass while she’d been suffering in silence.
Morgan shook her head and groaned. “It's not your fault. I’m an expert at hiding the symptoms and working through them, but I think I need to go inside and lay down.” She literally swayed on her feet.
I caught her before she fell, then swooped her into my arms, cradling her against my chest as I carried her inside and laid her in bed.
Chapter Seven
Morgan
A bad migraine could keep me in bed for days. Light would stab my brain and movement would send my stomach lurching with nausea. The best I could do was cover my face, stay as still as I could, and wait for it to pass.
I'd miss appointments.
I'd miss work.
I'd lose weight because I couldn't eat; the pain was so bad I’d throw up even if my stomach was empty. I was completely incapable of taking care of myself and I'd emerge exhausted at the end of it all, feeling beaten and bruised and so behind on everything. Sometimes it would take an entire week before I felt like myself again, and even longer to catch up on everything I missed.
This experience was completely different from my old ones and all because of Ruben.
After he put me in bed, he leaned in to whisper, “Do you need anything?”
I weakly shook my head. “Not right now, but thank you.”
“I’ll stick around for a little bit. Just in case you need anything.” He patted my hand and I met his eyes.
“I’ll be fine,” I croaked.
“I’m sure you will be, but I’ll just hang out in case you’re not…if that’s okay with you.”
Somehow, I managed to nod, then closed my eyes and drifted off.
At some point later, I woke to find my room completely, blessedly dark. The clock said it was sometime after midnight and my throat said I was incredibly thirsty. Squinting, I reached for the light on my bedside table, and knocked over a glass of water I didn’t expect to be there. It hit the ground with a crash so loud it felt like my head split open. Footsteps sounded in the hall and my door creaked open as I clutched at my throbbing temples, nausea churning in my belly.
“Morgan? Are you okay?” Reuben’s head poked through and I blinked in confusion.
“I’m fine. Just knocked over the water.” I put a hand over my eyes to shade them as he stepped into the room. “What’re you doing here?”
“I couldn’t leave you alone. Not like that. You looked so helpless.” Concern tightened his features. “Still do if I’m being honest.”
Half delirious, I managed to nod, then regretted the movement as my stomach revolted. I launched off the bed and staggered into the bathroom, before kneeling in front of the toilet and heaving. Reuben held my hair and rubbed my back, then cleaned up the spilled water, and sat with me until I fell back to sleep.
From time to time, Reuben would creep into my room, quietly leaving food and water on my bedside table, moving carefully because even the smallest sound hurt my head. I was in and out of consciousness for who knew how long until I finally woke for real. As I pushed myself up on my elbow, the door creaked open.
“Hey. You’re awake. How you doin’?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine and it’s okay to admit that. I’m going to head to the diner and grab something to eat. How does chicken soup sound?”
Just as I was about to tell him I didn’t think I could eat much of anything, my belly rumbled loudly, outing me.
Reuben smiled. “That settles it. I’ll be back in a few.” After he returned, he sat with me while I ate, rubbing my feet, and then, when I finished my soup, he perched on the bed behind me and rubbed my shoulders.
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmured when I tried to thank him. “I’d do it a hundred times over. Are they always this bad?”
“Sometimes they’re worse,” I croaked. Reuben reached for the water and handed it to me. I took a small sip and swallowed. “Have you really been here the whole time?”
By my best estimation, I’d been in bed for the last three days.
He nodded. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch. I hope you don’t mind.”
“On the couch?” I sat up and winced. I was feeling better, but not better enough to move that quickly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Actually, I did.” His eyes softened as he smiled. “How could I leave, knowing no one was here to take care of you?”
My parents had always implied I was weak or overexaggerating the extent of my headaches. As a child, I learned not to ask for help and carried that habit right into adulthood.
“I’m usually pretty good at taking care of myself.”
“But with me around, you don’t have to.”
Maybe I was still feeling weak, though probably it was the way he looked at me, but tears pricked my eyes at his words.
The next morning, we sat at my kitchen table enjoying a cup of coffee. Reuben held my hand, his thumb tracing lazy circles around my knuckle. It was the sweetest thing. Such a simple gesture. It shouldn't have meant as much as it did but when combined with the attentiveness he’d shown me the last several days, it felt like safety. Like protection.
It felt like coming home.
If only there was a way to say that without scaring him away by saying too much too soon. Instead, I met his eyes with the warmest smile I could muster. “Thank you,” I said for the hundredth time. “I can’t believe you stayed to take care of me like that. I…well, I appreciate the heck out of it.”
“You say that like you've never had someone there for you before.”
“I haven't.”
Shock dropped his jaw with sympathy following along behind. “Never? I can't believe you’ve had to go through all that on your own. If I have my way you never will again.”
And there it was again. Safety. Protection. Home.
“Believe me, if I had my way I’d never need to be taken care of again.” Which was exactly why I’d bought a house in the country in the first place. The daydream of health and happiness played through my mind and I smiled into his handsome face. “I really want this to work.”
By this, I meant moving to Cherry Falls and growing my own food. But this could also mean
the connection growing between Reuben and me. As crazy as it seemed, I realized I was talking about both.
I tried to hide a blush by taking a drink of coffee.
“I really want this to work too.”
The intensity in his gaze told me we were on the same page. With anyone else, I would have been frightened, but with him it felt right. I wanted us to turn into something real and I could have sworn he did too.
Maybe I was going crazy—or maybe I’d stumbled into the life I was meant to live.
We finished our coffee and Reuben made breakfast while I showered. Eggs from the market and toast from the fresh loaf of sourdough I'd made the other day. As we ate, he told me about his brother David and his sister Millie, how they had recently met their matches and fallen in love.
“I didn't think love was worth it,” he said, “but after watching the way their lives turned around…” He shrugged, looking uncomfortable, then dropped a hand on the table and stood. “You know what? I should get going. I’ve been in your hair long enough.”
As he reached for his plate, I grabbed his hand. “I don’t want you to go. I like having you in my hair.”
I’d meant the comment to be simple, but there was nothing simple about the way I felt when I touched him. Desire charged the room and I stood, stepping close to lay my hands on his chest.
His eyes hooded as they burned into mine. His fingers threaded through my locks and his gaze went to my lips. Fisting my hair, he drew me in, kissing me tenderly while his free hand snaked under my shirt, fingers skating across my ribs. My nipples tightened and my belly clenched. His name fluttered through my brain as lust burned through my body. His erection pressed against my stomach and feeling his arousal turned me on more than anything.
“See how much I like being in your hair?”
“I haven’t properly thanked you for everything you’ve done for me.” I slipped a hand between us to rub his swollen length. “I have an idea of how I could express my gratitude.” I stepped back and started to undo his pants, intent on dropping to my knees and taking his cock in my mouth, but Reuben stopped my hand.
“There’s no way I’m coming before you do.” He hooked a finger in the waistband of my shorts and drew them down my hips. “I’m a very giving man. And very thorough.”
The pad of his thumb circled my clit and I gasped, need clenching through me as he kneeled at my feet. I gripped the edge of the table and he hooked my leg over his shoulder, spreading my folds then lowering his face to lick and suck.
I groaned and gasped, dropping my head back to stare at the ceiling.
Heat built inside me, clenching and throbbing as he slicked a finger along my inner walls.
Never in my life…
Never…
Not once…
Had pleasure bloomed like this.
My body sang for him. My hips bucked and my chest heaved. He offered sweet oblivion and I fell into it, panting his name as I came.
“Fuck! Reuben!” I bit my lip, then sighed as I gave in to the pleasure. As my orgasm subsided, I stared down at the man on his knees in front of me and smiled, spiraling back into awareness.
He drew the back of his hand across his mouth and grinned up at me. “I like seeing you come undone.”
I adjusted my grip on the table as my legs trembled. “I had no idea…I’ve never…that’s…” I blinked as I tried to find words to make sense of my thoughts.
“Never?” He stood, cocking his head. “Please tell me you’re not talking about what I just did.”
I shook my head. “Never…”
“Never?” His eyes went wide. “No one’s gone down on you before?”
I met his gaze, a slow smile tugging at my lips. “That was a first.”
“I promise you; it won’t be the last.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I can’t believe how neglected you’ve been. Never had someone take care of you when you’re sick. Never had someone make you come with their tongue. We need to make up for lost time.”
I bit my lip, ready to see what else he had in store for me. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me too. But, as much as I’d like to continue this today, I need to get to the store. David’s been running the show while I stayed with you and he’s ready for a break.”
“I’m so sorry to have taken up so much of your time.”
He cupped my cheek, shaking his head as his eyes softened. “Don’t be. I’m not. And I’ll gladly give you more time tomorrow. We’ll finish that coop and I’ll take you to dinner, then show you how much I like being in your hair again.” He winked, then kissed me.
Stunned, I walked him to his car and said goodbye, then went back in the house, closed the door, and leaned against it.
“What the heck was that?” I asked the empty living room.
Whatever it was, I wanted more of it. More of him.
And lucky me, I was getting it tomorrow.
Chapter Eight
Reuben
The taste of Morgan drove me wild. I could still smell her sweetness on my hands, my lips.
My cock begged for attention as I drove away, damning me for my need to do the right thing. Sure, Morgan deserved to get off before I did. And yes, David had been doing the lion’s share of the work for the last several days. But a little selfishness went a long way every now and then.
“When you have a point, you have a point,” I said to my crotch and detoured home on my way to the store, where I climbed into the shower and took myself in hand.
Remembering Morgan’s face, the sound of her voice, the way my name fell from her lips as she came, I stroked my cock. I wanted inside her, to fuck her until she trembled. I’d pound away, taking pleasure in her tortured gasps as she clenched around me. She’d writhe and moan and gasp and cry until I exploded inside her.
My fist pumped. My breath caught. Over and over, her name, her face, her tight little body played through my fantasies until my balls clenched and I came, grunting in satisfaction as water pounded against my shoulders.
The next day, Morgan and I completed the chicken coop. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder as we stared at the finished product. “Do you love it? Is it everything you wanted it to be?”
“I absolutely adore it.” She leaned into me. “I’d never have gotten it done without you. Thank you.”
“I’m just here for the perks.”
“Oh yeah? The perks, huh?” She popped a fist on her hip. “And just what might those be?”
I drew her in for a kiss. “This is one.” I ran a hand along her body. “And this is another.” I tapped the side of her head. “And this is pretty good too.”
“I agree.” Morgan surprised me by cupping her hand against my crotch. “The perks are pretty damn enticing.”
My dick leapt to attention, but I urged it back into submission. There was an order to the day. Finish the coop. Take her to dinner. Then we’d see where the night went.
“You hungry?” I asked.
The glint in Morgan’s eyes told me she was going to say something sexual so I pressed a finger to her lips.
“For food. Are you hungry for food?”
She pouted. “I just want to repay you for the pleasure you gave me.”
“You’re not seeing the big picture.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, then slowly waved a hand in front of us like my plan was visible in the sky. “You have to let me woo you. Dinner. Dates. It can’t all be about getting me into bed. I have a very sensitive soul.” I placed a hand over my heart and Morgan laughed.
“And they say romance is dead.”
“Not with me it’s not.” I slapped her ass. “Now go get dressed so we can eat.”
We had dinner at Cherry Pie Pizza, then walked to Cherry on Top Ice Cream Parlor for dessert. I ordered a single scoop of banana ice cream in a cup while she went for a cone of Rocky Road. Her eyes lit up like a child’s as she accepted the treat.
I glanced at the tables filled with exhausted parents and wound-up childr
en talking too loudly. Not exactly the mood I was trying to set.
“It’s a gorgeous evening,” I said to Morgan. “Feel like walking to the fountain? We could claim one of those benches and people could see me out with the Cherry Falls mystery woman. Build up my street cred some more.”
“You’re overestimating my appeal. The only person who cares about me is you.”
Morgan took a long lick of her ice cream. Never had a frozen dairy treat seemed so erotic.
I swallowed hard. “If anyone’s underestimating your appeal, it’s you.”
She was also underestimating her ability to turn me on with her tongue, but we could talk about that later.
“Whatever, big guy.” She grinned and took another taste of ice cream. “I’d love to see the fountain and all these mysterious townsfolk who care so much about who I am and what I do.”
As we strolled down Hope Avenue, I draped my arm over her shoulder. She happily did unspeakable things to her ice cream cone and sure enough, everyone we passed watched our progress with interest.
“See?” I whispered, leaning close. “Just look at all the people pretending not to stare at you.”
She glanced around, just in time for everyone to look away. With a roll of her eyes, she punched my arm. “Haha. Very funny. You’re hilarious.”
“I’m not joking. Look! Those two coming out of The Flower Patch are totally staring.” I jerked my chin toward Thomas and Clementine Miller. They’d been married for thirty-five years and knew everything about everyone. Clementine clutched a bouquet of roses and eyed us like we were her favorite candy.
Morgan peeked, then stifled a grin as the Millers waved hello. She returned the gesture. “That’s one couple,” she said. “Barely counts.”
“Okay, fine. How about them?” I pointed to Grayson Blake and Hayley Morgan as they strolled out of the coffee shop, whispering behind their to-go cups.
