Chapter 44 - Chase Me, Cowboy

After I finish reading through the contract, I turn off my phone and leave it by the bed. I’m exhausted to my core. This week, I’ve met more people than I can properly remember the names of. Lingo I’m not familiar with rings in my ears when I’m finally alone. People keep talking to me about timelines, EPs, and a million other things I don’t feel ready to even be considering.

I’m in shock.

It used to be that these things took time. And it did, but it also happened like the roll of the dice.

Now, I’m reeling. And all I want is the hard warmth of his chest. Sleeping in his arms was so safe. I lie on my side in the empty farmhouse and think about him for hours before I finally succumb to exhaustion. It’s hard being the only one staying here right now. There’s nobody and nothing around to distract me. The farmhouse is one of the coziest, most peaceful places I’ve ever stayed. But it’s set up for zero distractions.

I’d like to write music here.

Going through angst and heartache are less desirable.

The next morning, I get up and pull on leggings and a heavy wool sweater. In the kitchen, I use the ridiculously nice espresso machine to make myself a hot latte. Then, I grab my shoes and head out into the dewy grass. It’s so clean, so placid. My mind starts turning the way it always does when a new idea is about to come.

The walk to the lake is an old wagon trail from when this was a working farm. I follow the worn earthen path, woods on one side, and hills on the other. The fenceline is beautiful in the silvery mist. Everything is so quiet, so still. In that quiet, I can feel the empty spot in my chest like a physical ache.

When did I fall for him?

Was it early on, in Maine? No, because I left. Honestly, I think it was when he said one more time and flew to me in New York. It was when he told me to stop snarking at him and his energy became gentle. Was that when he felt something for me? Because everything seemed different that night. It was different in Kentucky, alone, with the world so far away.

I want to run to him. To board a plane, tell Jenna I’ll be right back, and go to wherever he is.

I can’t because he hasn’t texted me. He hasn’t called.

Is this how it’s always going to be?

My head goes silent. My feet keep moving through dry leaves. I’m about a quarter mile in when something moves up ahead. I freeze, waiting. I don’t think anyone else is staying at the studio or the farmhouse, but maybe they came in last night.

The mist is too thick. I squint, heart pounding.

A dark shape appears, getting closer. Tall, broad, walking with his head up.

My body tingles. My heart speeds up so fast I can barely breathe. Jamie appears, materializing from the mist like some kind of cowboy Mr. Darcy in a white T-shirt and worn pants, creased like he was traveling. His hair is messy, eyes tired, but he’s never looked better.

Crack—the mug falls from my hand, breaking in two.

I don’t care. I’ll pay Jenna back.

My legs go from shaking to running, as fast as I can, through the slippery grass. He stops and right then, I see it all over his face. The hesitancy, as if he thought I would be angry and ask why he was here, disappears. His iron walls crumble. He lifts his arms, and I hit the broad, warm expanse of his chest hard enough that he stumbles back a step.

I’m going to cry. I’m going to explode. I’m going to grab his hand and beg him to marry me right now.

Well, that might be premature, but…I wouldn’t say no.

He pulls back enough to kiss me, mouth warm against mine.

God, I love him.

The world shatters. His fingers dig into my body, keeping me from spinning into space. I do love him, even if it’s too early and we’re all wrong for each other. He’s the only place in the world where I’ve felt I belong. I could travel everywhere and still have my home if he just stays at my side.

We break apart.

“Hey,” he says softly.

I swallow hard.

“Please don’t leave this time,” I manage, voice shaking.

He cups my face. “Hey, hey, I won’t, sweetheart. Swear it.”

“Cross your heart?”

“You can do that for me,” he says, kissing my forehead. “It’s all yours.”

My jaw drops, then I’m laughing. Or am I crying? I can’t tell, and it doesn’t matter because he gathers me in his arms and kisses me hard. My arms wrap around his neck, and he lifts me right off my feet.

“You think Jenna will notice if I come see you at the farmhouse?” he asks.

“There are outdoor cameras.

“Eh, it’s fine,” he says, walking back the way I came. “Better to ask forgiveness than permission.”

There are a million things to figure out, to worry about. Right now, I don’t care about a single one. He’s holding me in his arms, carrying me down the path to the house in the most romantic way possible. I cling to him, burying my face against his neck. He smells so good. Everything about him is perfect. I don’t know how I ever got angry with him, ever. Right now, I could drown in Jamie Iron and die happy.

We go inside, and he puts me down, stepping from his boots. I wrestle off my sneakers and he follows me into the kitchen.

“Come here, you,” he says.

“Upstairs,” I hiss.

He grabs my waist, flipping me around and bending me over the kitchen table. Heat tingles in my stomach.

“You got any meetings today?” he breathes.

His hips grind into my ass, dick hard beneath his pants.

“No, not until tomorrow.”

He bites the side of my neck. My spine arches. God, he turns me on just like that, and I’m helpless.

“Then I get you all day,” he says. “And tonight.”

“Yes,” I pant. “Please.”

He runs a hand down my stomach, beneath my leggings to my pussy. My eyes shut, head lolling. The hard pad of his middle finger grazes my clit, then he presses me open and slides two fingers into my pussy. Not deeply, but to the middle knuckle. Enough that it burns in the most delicious way. He braces the heel of his palm and fucks me, short strokes against the front wall.

“Goddamn it,” he says, desperate. “You’re soaked, baby.”

I moan. “I missed you.”

“I can fucking tell.”

He pushes both fingers in deeper, fucking. We’ve done a lot, and he’s made me come countless times, but never this fast. It hits me so hard it takes my breath away. He pulls his fingers from me and yanks my leggings down. Zip—the head of his cock hits my ass as he opens his pants, then slides into my pussy. My head spins, and my palms hit the table, bracing as he starts fucking. Rough, dirty, exactly how I need it.

“I missed you too, baby,” he rasps.

Delirious and so full it hurts a little, I let my head fall back on his shoulder.

“I can tell, too,” I manage.

He laughs, then groans and pushes his face into the side of my neck. Taking my hand, he presses it flat on the table and braces himself. His thrusts increase, harder and faster, like he can’t control himself. Yes, this is what I needed: to be fucked hard before we figure things out.

He obliges. My head is empty, even when he picks me up, pulls the rest of my clothing off, and flips me over. I sink to my back, and he slides back inside, our eyes connecting.

“God, baby, look at that pussy take my dick,” he murmurs, touching my clit.

My eyes roll back. His fingers keep working, touching where our bodies connect. It’s filthy, but there’s something sweet about it. And it’s only sweeter still when he leans in to kiss me and his hips stutter, coming deep inside me as his tongue grazes mine.

I needed this—I needed him.

He is my home, my safest place.