Chapter Nineteen: Aspen

The bomb Owen dropped while sitting across from me took my mind off the enormous vehicle he bought for me parked in his driveway and the fact that my dad was undergoing surgery tomorrow morning to put a stint in his artery.

Did I expect to break into tears? Not in the slightest. But that's exactly what happened when the news sank in.

It was too much. His leaving, my life, everything. I was spiraling out of control in a tornado of emotion I couldn't end.

"Baby, come here," he murmured as he tugged me toward his lap and cradled me against him. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could stay or take you with me."

I couldn't understand my gibberish as I blubbered against Owen.

"Fuck. Cricket, what can I do? How can I make it better? Tell me what to do."

Instead of words, I gripped him tighter. My arms clenched around his neck as I tucked my face against the dip between his shoulder and neck and drenched him with my tears.

Time slipped by as I released all my feelings from the steel cage they'd been trapped in. By the time I sniffed back my last sob, the sun had long fallen behind the mountain range.

"Better?" Owen asked, gently stroking my back.

"Um… yeah." My throat was parched, leaving my voice hoarse and scratchy. "I… I don't know what happened."

"It's okay. You have a lot going on. Can I get you anything? Have you eaten?"

I hadn't. And after shaking my head, Owen set me on the couch and jumped up, heading toward the kitchen. In a few short minutes, he returned with a steaming bowl of mac and cheese. After taking the first bite, I knew it was exactly what I needed.

"Thank you," I mumbled around my second spoonful.

While I ate, Owen asked about my dad, the surgery, and the farm. It was nice to speak candidly about everything. With my family, I felt like I had to tiptoe around my fears or insecurities.

As I finished my last bite of pasta, I remembered something one of our lead ranch hands mentioned when he returned to the farm. "Oh, they let me know today that your house is scheduled to be demolished next Wednesday. With it being condemned, it was up to the town to decide the date. Did you and your mom want to go by before or anything?"

I was worried about Owen's reaction, but as he smiled softly, I knew I shouldn't have been. He'd been through so much in that house. His family nearly crumbled at the hands of his despicable father within the walls of the building.

"I'll ask my mom, but I think we're both ready to move on now."

"I worried if things were still rough between you two, but she mentioned you guys have been chatting more frequently."

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as he perched against the wall. "It's a work in progress, but things are getting better. I… held a lot of resentment toward her, when it was never her fault for what happened to me. I can't imagine the horror she lived through. That bastard is still interrupting things in her life."

As he continued to talk, I noticed he began rubbing an area of his arm covered in tattoos. It was something I noticed him do before, but I thought little about it until now. It happened whenever he spoke about his father.

Curiosity got the best of me as I yawned. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" he asked, stopping the movement with his hand still wrapped around his forearm.

"Rub your arm. I… um… noticed you do it when you talk about your father."

Owen's gaze traveled out the window for a moment, then returned to me. Holding out his hand, he asked me to join him. "Come with me."

He seemed both distracted and wary as he grasped my hand and guided me toward the bathroom. Wordlessly, he started the shower and began stripping off his clothes. I didn't think I'd see a more gorgeous man for the rest of eternity.

He stepped into the shower and closed the door behind himself, leaving me standing there fully dressed as the billows of steam started pouring from the top of the shower door. "Owen? Is everything okay?"

"Join me."

I'd taken a quick shower before leaving the farm, wanting to rid myself of the smells and sweat, but I didn't hesitate to yank my clothes off and step into the spray.

Owen's body arced in the mist, only his head falling forward into the water as his arms stretched out, his hands braced on the tiled walls. His massive back filled the space, and as I stepped up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his trim waist.

"Talk to me," I urged quietly. I wanted to be that comfort for him like he had been for me.

He turned around and lifted me over to the bench, where he settled me on his lap, raising his intricately tattooed arm up for my inspection.

"Touch it," he whispered, his eyes locked on mine, but I sensed he was mentally elsewhere.

Hesitantly, I ran my index finger across the mountain ranges and shaded trees. There were colorful birds and orange trees that stood out against the darkness on his skin. But beneath it all, I felt what he'd been hiding. Rigid scars marred his skin.

"Those were from my dad. He threw me against the coffee table when I was twelve, and the glass top shattered. That was the first time mom had to stitch me up herself, because he refused to let us go to the hospital." Owen guffawed. "That was the same year he decided to start making wine. The idiot thought he'd have the fixings that year. When they sprouted nothing, he took it out on me."

"Owen," I whispered, running my fingers along the jagged marks, landing on a beautiful set of orange-leaved trees.

"Do you know what those are?" he asked me.

I leaned closer, but they weren't like anything I recognized. "No, I don't."

With two fingers, Owen lifted my chin until my gaze was back on his. He leaned forward, our lips brushing in the softest caress. My nipples pebbled as his hand slid down my neck and between my breasts. Owen grazed his fingertip against the hardened peak, and I jolted in his lap at the contact.

"It's an aspen tree. In Greek, it means shield."

Dazed from his kisses, I pulled back and looked down at his arm. "It's…. You got a tree with my name?"

"I got it because it was a way to keep you with me, always."

"I… don't understand. I thought…."

Owen placed both hands on either side of my neck, rubbing small circles with his thumbs.

"You were the only peace I ever found in this town. Not baseball. Not school. Not my mom. You. Anytime I was around you, everything else went silent inside me."

"Then why were you always trying to one-up me in everything? The fairs, school, the farm, all of it. It was like a never-ending battle we had."

"Because it kept your attention on me. I didn't care what I had to do to get it; I just needed it."

I rested my hands on his chest, just above his battering heart. "I thought you hated me."

"Oh, cricket. I've probably loved you from the moment you stole my box of crayons in first grade."

"I did not!" I exclaimed. "Those were mine, and you know it."

His chuckle echoed in the stall, sounding like a thousand Owens surrounding me.

"I just told you that I love you, and you're arguing with me about crayons."

"I was not. I was just pointing out the fa—"

He silenced me with a brutal kiss that left me panting.

"Aspen Easterly, I love you so much that I tattooed you on my skin so I could keep you with me, always."

Smiling, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips in continuous kisses along his jawline.

"Owen Ramsey, I love you so much that I don't want to date anyone else when you leave. I want to try to figure out how to make this work." Pulling back, I added, "Even if it's for a couple of months a year that I get to see you, I want to try."

"Me too, cricket. Me too."

His hand slipped between my spread thighs and rubbed along my slick sex. "Christ, you're so wet for me."

Closing my eyes, I titled my head back, my ponytail capturing droplets of water from the shower. "Hearing you tell me you love me just… does something to me."

His other hand grasped my heavy breast and lifted it toward his waiting mouth. His tongue swirled around the nipple while his hand between my legs pistoned a finger in and out of me.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," he repeated, and I felt myself coating his fingers in all my desire.

He latched onto my breast, sucking on the bud and areola. Around my tight, puckered hole, I felt him run a slick finger back and forth. The sensation combined with his warm mouth as he finger-fucked my pussy left me writhing on his lap. I was feeling everything, everywhere… until I exploded in a myriad of pleasure.

"Oh fuck," I whispered as I fell over the cliff, riding Owen's hand like I was at a derby.

"That's it, cricket. Ride my hand. God… damn," he uttered.

As I came back to reality, he wrapped an arm around my waist and stood. I felt his cock align with my center, and my pussy practically begged for him to climb inside. But he gently swapped our positions, so that I was resting on the bench, and he was standing in front of me.

Owen licked his lips as he kneeled on the hard tiles and pushed my legs apart. My pussy was on full display for him as he skimmed his hands up my thighs until his thumbs brushed against the swollen folds. He flicked a finger up toward my clit, brushing the overly sensitive bundle of nerves, and I twitched, calling out his name.

"Bend your legs and put your feet on my shoulders," he commanded, eyes pinned on my sex.

I followed his directive until I was fully exposed to him.

"Christ, what did I do to deserve you?" he asked rhetorically. "I'm going to fucking devour you, baby."

Owen slipped a finger into my channel as he bent forward, sucking my clit into his mouth. The onslaught was powerful and overwhelming, but as I squirmed against his face, I felt myself pressing closer to him.

His tongue flicked wildly along my clit before he moved down toward my slit. Just when I thought he was going to fuck me with it, he moved past.

He couldn't possibly want to put his mouth on my…

His tongue pressed against my asshole and began moving up and down.

"Oh my God," I cried out, resting my head back against the cool tile. One hand inadvertently reached for his head, gripping his wet hair. Was I trying to push him away or hold him closer? I had no idea, but whatever he was doing, I didn't want him to stop.

While feasting on my rim, he swirled his hand around my clit until my legs began quivering. My toes curled as he moved, his fingers back on my pussy and he lapped at the swollen bundle.

Soon, I was crying out his name again as I clawed at the tiled bench. My legs skated down his arms and fell at his waist. I could barely open my eyes the release was so powerful. It took me a minute to catch my breath, and when I settled, I gazed up to find Owen washing his face.

"What are you doing?" I questioned as I tried to right my body but found myself unsuccessful.

"Well, I plan on kissing you, baby. And as much as I enjoyed eating you until you coated my face with your juices, I didn't think that was on your dessert menu tonight."

My cheeks flamed as I quickly shook my head.

"Can you stand?" he asked, holding out a hand toward me.

It took a couple tries, but I finally managed to pull myself upright.

"Good," he smirked with that sexy grin I fell for every time. Paired with his gray eyes, there was nothing Owen couldn't ask me to do. "Think you can give me one more?"

"More what?" I asked as I shivered and moved under the still-warm spray. Whatever water heater Rory had installed did a great job.

"Orgasm. I want to fuck you, baby."

"Um… yeah, I think so," I replied demurely.

"Thank Christ." Owen wrapped my arms around his neck and lifted me so that I wrapped my legs around his waist again. My overly sensitive folds rubbed against the head of his cock, and I felt an aftershock run through my system.

He held me in place with one strong arm wrapped around my back, while the other guided his cock into my entrance. Inch by glorious inch, I sank farther down until his shaft was buried in my channel.

"Owen," I moaned. "I… feel… so full."

"Is it too much?" he asked, not letting my body move an inch. He sounded as if he was holding on by a thread. I shook my head as I clung to him.

"Good," he growled as he lifted my body slightly, then dropped me back down.

We groaned simultaneously as he repeated the motion. After a few pulses, he pressed my back against the tile. The coolness was welcome against my heated skin. With the new surface to support us, Owen held me in place while he rocked back, then thrusted his erection inside me. I saw stars at the new angle and clenched my thighs tighter around his hips.

"God, baby. I can feel you milking my cock already. Your pussy is so hungry for my dick. I'm going to feed her until she's so full of my cum that I drip out of you for the next week."

I'd never realized how turned on dirty talk would make me. Maybe it was because it was Owen, but I felt myself tremble with yearning as he pounded into me.

"Yes," I whimpered as I clawed at his shoulders.

Thank goodness he'd been doing therapy with Kelsey, because I almost—almost—worried I would hurt his shoulder. But I was so lost in climbing to the pinnacle of my release that I didn't care.

"Come for me, cricket. I want to feel you."

Shifting his hold around my waist, he used his free hand to slide under my thighs and rub the puckered hole at my backside.

As he dipped just the tip of his finger inside, my body detonated.

"Oh my gosh," I repeated an unknown number of times as he pumped into me, seeking and finding his own release as I spasmed around him.

"Fuck, how does it get better every time?" he murmured as he turned off the water, still holding my limp body in his arms.

"I don't know, but it's amazing, Owen. I had no idea."

He wrapped us in one oversized towel, with my legs still wrapped around his waist, and carried us to the bed. After tugging back the sheet, he set me down and then slipped in behind me. I turned around and nudged one of my legs between his as I cuddled closer to his chest.

"You know, I've never been much of a cuddler," I told him as I nuzzled my nose against his chest. Owen had a distinct scent that was all him. I even asked recently what cologne he wore, so I could buy some to keep on hand when he left, but he didn't. The man used generic soap. Somehow, he had this naturally intoxicating fragrance that sent the butterflies in my stomach into a tailspin.

"I wasn't either. Not until you," he added as he stroked my bare back. "Can you stay the night, or do you need to get back?"

I thought about, considered my options. My duty to my family, or my duty to the man I'd fallen in love with. One would be by my side for the rest of my life, the other was leaving next week. Our time was fleeting.

"I'd like to stay," I answered truthfully, and the smile Owen sent my way was one I'd dedicate to memory. I didn't think I'd ever seen him smile with such sincere happiness before. "I should probably grab my phone though. In case my family needs to reach me."

Without another word, Owen rolled out of bed and returned a minute later with my bag in hand. I reached inside and grabbed my cell, noticing a few texts from Jenna. I swiped them open to find screenshots from Owen's ex's social media pages.

Giggling, I set the phone on the nightstand. "Seems like your ex-fiancée is still convinced you're getting married."

My bag dropped to the floor with a thump as he rolled his eyes. "That woman is driving me nuts. Thankfully, my lawyer and security are handling it."

When he slid back into bed with me, I trailed a finger across his chest, asking a question that had been on my mind since our fake relationship turned real. "Do you think she'll be a problem when you go back to California?"

"I can't make the promise that she won't, but I'm doing everything I can to keep that from happening."

I wasn't the jealous type, but something about Vanessa rubbed me the wrong way. But I had to trust Owen if we were going to make this work. And I wanted nothing more than to have this work.

"You can trust me, cricket. You're all I see. You're all I've ever seen."

"I know. I'm not worried. I do wonder what made you want to be with her though."

"Clearly, I had no idea who she really was. Up until the wedding, she was mostly amenable, just pushy about the things she wanted. I suspected most women like her were like that. Honestly, I think I was just blinded by the fact that I wanted to settle down, and she was there."

"Did you love her?"

Owen took a second before responding, his hand stroking my bare shoulder. "I think, at the time, I thought I did. But when I caught her and her best friend together, I felt… nothing. I wasn't angry. I wasn't sad. I wasn't ecstatic. I was just…. I don't know. It didn't affect me at all. So, knowing that. I don't think I ever really loved her. I loved the idea of being married."

"I get it. You love love. You're a hopeless romantic, Owen Ramsey."

He shrugged as if he didn't care. "Maybe. I just think, in the end, I knew she wasn't the one for me. I didn't feel the desire to brand her on my skin like I did with the little cricket I had back home."

"As much as I hate that nickname, that's a good answer."

"Now, your turn," he schemed as he rolled me onto my back, his hips pressed between my legs.

"I don't have any relationship history, a scorned fiancé, nor a love life to speak about."

"Ex-fiancée," he corrected. "No, what I want to know is why you've stayed single all these years. I've never heard of you with a boyfriend."

"No time. I've been busy since I was ten and could reach the pedals on the riding lawnmower."

"That's not the real reason. I know that's what you use as your excuse to everyone else, but I'm not them. I want to know why you held yourself back from having a romantic relationship."

Squirming beneath his steely gaze, I ran through a list of lies to tell him, but instead, I chose the truth. If he could share, then I could too.

"I was scared. Scared of making myself vulnerable to someone. Scared of having my heart broken. Scared of never finding my person. Scared of never having what my parents have. Scared of love in general. It was easier to close myself off than to put myself out there. But I promised Jenna I'd try… and now, here we are."

"Here we are," he repeated as he pressed his lips against mine. "And thank you," he added as he brushed a kiss along my cheek and then nose.

"For what?"

"For telling me the truth and for giving me a chance."

I started giggling, which earned me a cocked eyebrow from Owen. "I guess I should thank Vanessa for screwing up and being late to the altar. Otherwise, you may have never returned home."

He rocked his hips against me, instantly silencing my laughter. "Yeah, I'll make sure to send her a bouquet of dead flowers."

"Yeah, you do that." I gasped as his velvety cock glided across my mound.

"Are you sore?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"A little, but please don't stop," I begged. "I want you to make love to me, Owen."

"We didn't use anything in the shower. I'm clean. I get tested by the team, and I had a test done after the Vanessa fiasco."

"I'm on the pill. I want to feel you bare again."

Owen coated his cock in slick heat before guiding himself slowly inside my pussy. This time, his touches were tender, his pace slow. But as I hitched my leg higher on his hip, Owen's stride grew crazed. I met him thrust for thrust. Until he spilled inside me and we fell into a heap of sweaty bodies.

"Fuck, I love you," he mumbled next to my head as he yawned.

"I love you too," I replied.

Owen planted a quick kiss on my forehead and rose from the bed to retrieve a washcloth to clean up between my legs.

"Get some sleep, beautiful." He tucked my body up against his, and I drifted away, listening to the steady thumping of his heartbeat.

Tomorrow was going to be a new day with all new responsibilities and what ifs, but for right now, I was exactly where I wanted to be.