Page 143 of When We Were Us
We’re either snuggled up together around a fire behind the cabin or under the covers talking, laughing, touching, and exploring one another’s bodies like a couple of teenagers. Sometimes we fuck fast and messy, and other times it’s a slow, like a sensual dance of two people who have loved one another for half a lifetime.
I wake up alone in Hank’s cozy, one-bedroom cabin. It’s warm and toasty under all the blankets, but the bed feels empty without him in it. Tucker is snuggled up, snoring at my feet.
A low fire burns in the wood stove in the corner of the room. The last two weeks with Hank have been nothing short of amazing, and I can’t think of a better place to wake up every morning.
It’s been a week since Hudson and Paige left for New York, and I’ve spent as much time as I can with Finn. She’s seemed a bit down since they left, but the second Hank is done at the ranch, she insists I come home to him.
I spent the last two days at the ranch working alongside Hank and Jack, assisting with preg checks. It’s not all that different from performing them on a horse, both using a combination of manual palpation through the rectum and ultrasound or both. So, when Hank mentioned what they’d be doing, I was more than eager to be there, learning everything I could about the ranch.
I love spending time there, and every day I spend there, I can’t wait to get my hands dirty. In this particular group of one hundred fifty, only seventy-eight of them were bred, leaving the other seventy-two open.
Last night, we laid awake until after midnight while he ran through the differences between getting ready for spring and winter on the ranch. With around five-thousand cattle pairs on just over nineteen-thousand acres spread out way beyond the city limits of Timber Forge, the ranch is considered medium-sized for around here. Hank explained that most of the calving is done in the spring due to the more extreme temps at this elevation in the winter, but dropping a small group of calves in August and September means two paychecks a year.
And since the bulls go to work twice a year, they don’t need to keep as many with a split-breeding season. It's a little more costly, he’d said, as there’s an extra feed cost for hay around the first of the year, but once the spring breaks, the calves are ready for weaning in May and there is always plenty of new growth for them when that time comes.
I love how passionate he is about all of it, and lying in his arms while he talks about it is becoming one of my favorite things.
When we’re not at the ranch, we’re working on packing up the house, sharing intimate dinners on the couch at my place or here in the cabin, and making love every single day. Some days, multiple times. My vagina is most definitely ruined for Hank Hayes, and I am not complaining.
I’ve never felt more safe, content, or happy.
It’s just after six a.m., and Hank and Duke left this morning to drive five hours to Helena for a meeting with The Beartooth Livestock Co-op. I vaguely remember him kissing me goodbye when he left, but either way, he’s only been gone mere hours and I already miss him.
It’s ironic because I spent the last seventeen years away from him, but since we’ve finally given into our feelings for one another, two days without him seems like an eternity. I smile at the memory from last night.
“I got you something.” I’m lying in the crook of Hank’s arm, listening to the rain on the metal roof after another ridiculously delicious orgasm.
He turns his head on the pillow, while he plays with the ends of my hair. “Yeah?”
I nod and roll onto my stomach, wrapping the blankets around me as I go, and he laughs. I reach under the bed, where I stashed the small box Ginger sent me a couple of days ago, then scoot back over and hand it to him before propping myself up on my elbows.
“What is it?”
“Open it and see.” I give him a small smile and nudge his bicep. “It’s for your trip tomorrow.”
He glances from me to the box and back again, then unfolds the flaps that are tucked into one another. Reaching inside, he pulls out the contents. His glance flips to mine and he chuckles, confused.
“You got me a cell phone?”
“Well, it’s an old one of Ginger’s, but yeah.”
“But I have the trusty flip phone.” The corner of his lips tips up and he fights it back, feigning confusion.
I drop my forehead to his chest with a laugh and then look back up at him. “Yes, I know, but you’re leaving for two days, and that little brick of technology doesn’t make video calls.”
“Video calls?”
“Yes.”
When he doesn’t answer, just continues staring at me, I laugh again. “Don’t worry, I’d never make you give up your grandpa phone.” I shoot him a saucy smile. “This one will only work over Wi-Fi.”
“What’s that?”
I stare at him for three full seconds until I realize he’s screwing with me, and he bursts into laughter.
“You should have seen your face.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re freaking hilarious.” I smack his arm, but I’m laughing, too.
