CHAPTER SEVEN

The week I’m ovulating, Gerard stays close and sends the men out to do the field work. We’re careful that no one notices. He comes in for lunch, goes to wash up in our bathroom. I make an excuse about forgetting something and slip up the back staircase.

He folds me in half and fucks me into our bed. My ankles over his shoulders and his cock buried so deep in me I swear I can feel it in my throat.

Getting his cum as deep as he can.

It’s a whirlwind and I’m left sore and dazed at the end. Then he goes back out to the ranch and we play the waiting game. Today, I’m upstairs in the nursery taking the linens out. Through the open window comes a soft breeze. The air smells like a thunderstorm. Dark and crackling with anticipation.

Safe in the nursery, I run my fingers over Cash’s knit blanket. It’s a soft pearly gray and there’s a tag with his name embroidered on it. I set it aside, making a note to add a second tag for the next baby’s name.

A thrill moves through me.

Thunder rumbles. I inhale the air, tasting a little coolness on it. Through the glass I see my husband on Shadow in the western pasture. We’re alone, Cash is gone for the day. Maddie and her husband went to South Platte for groceries and Cash begged to go too. I know he’ll come back high on sugar and sound asleep in the cab of the truck, but I let him go anyway.

The afternoon has been quiet. I prepped dinner for Maddie and set the bread to rise in the hot kitchen. Then I moved barefoot to the nursery to start going through the baby things.

I like privacy for this. Sometimes seeing Cash’s little socks and blankets makes me cry.

Today, they only make me hopeful.

Thunder sounds again and I go to the window, pushing it open wider. Gerard turns Shadow and they start moving back towards the yard. He’s got Big Dog with him, loping at his heels. Small Dog is shockingly still around, but he sleeps every minute of the day. His entire head and belly are now a silvery white.

“How old is he?” I asked Gerard one day.

He shrugged. “Not sure.”

“Well, was he a puppy when you bought him?”

He shook his head. “Didn’t buy him. I left the door open a while back and when I came downstairs, there was a dog on my couch.”

I gazed at him, still surprised by my husband after all this time. “And you just took him? Did you try to find his owner?”

Gerard shrugged. “No, if he belonged to someone else, he must not have liked living there.”

I pull myself from my mind and glance down. My husband is in the yard now, dismounting Shadow. I lean out the window, palms on the sill, and whistle.

He looks up and I feel his slow perusal of my body. Pale eyes burning up my body.

“What are you up to?” I call down.

“Sir,” he corrects.

Oh, he’s in that kind of mood. I reach up, tugging at the string that holds the bodice of my sundress together. Untying it halfway. Giving him a flash of my cleavage.

“What are you up to…sir?” I say, letting my voice drop.

He shakes his head once, jaw working.

“Storm’s coming,” he says.

“Better get to handling it then, sir.”

I shiver deliciously—I love teasing him just as much as he hates being teased. But there’s nothing he can do right now. He’ll need to close up the barn and outbuildings before he can come upstairs.

From below, he gives me a look. The kind that comes with a spanking later. Then he takes Shadow’s reins and disappears around the house, heading to the barn.

Thunderstorms aren’t common up on Sovereign Mountain, but I’ve witnessed a handful and they’re a treat as long as there’s no destruction. Being up on the mountain gives a prime view of lightning for miles. The rain moves over the grass, making it roll like the ocean.

I leave the nursery, moving through the house in my bare feet. When I step out on the porch, the wind whips my loose hair and tears at my skirt. Blowing it up around my thighs.

Carefully, I move down the dusty path and step into the cool barn. Gerard locks Shadow up and pulls the back door shut, securing it against the wind. He turns and his pale eyes fall on me.

Heat moves through me in a wave. God, he looks good. Big, strong, so much taller than me. His t-shirt is stuck to his chest with sweat, his hair windswept. He never cut it as short as I’d wanted at first and now I don’t care. I love having just enough length to curl my fingers through when he’s between my legs. And I love that his temples are dusted with gray.

My toes curl on the cold concrete.

He takes his hat off and beckons me. I go, shivering when he takes me gently by the throat and kisses my mouth.

“You’re beautiful, redbird,” he says.

My heart thumps. He’s never been an eloquent man. He’s never given me a romantic speech or written a poem. But I know how much weight words hold for him. When he says I’m beautiful, he means it.

I run my hand up his chest. Touching the side of his face, scratchy with his beard.

“Should we…go inside?” I whisper.

He glances out of the barn, just as the rain hits the ranch in a torrent. I pull back, shocked by the cold mist coming in. He strides past me and pulls the sliding door shut. For a second, it’s dark. Then our eyes adjust to the light coming in from the windows.

Rain batters at the glass. The horses chew softly in the background.

“I think we’ll be waiting it out in here,” he says.

I’m a little disappointed. Gerard doesn’t like having sex in open places. He’s jealous and it would piss him off if anyone walked in on us. He keeps the shades down and has me in the privacy of our room most nights. Occasionally, we’ll fuck in a field, far out of the way. But never where anyone can see.

“Yes, sir,” I sigh, sinking down on a bench by the door.

He crosses the barn, leaning against the window. I’m not going to pout—he doesn’t like that and it goes against our agreement. So I wait in silence until he glances over and the corner of his mouth twitches in his version of a smile.

“You’re not fooling me, redbird,” he says.

I shrug. “I’m not trying to fool you.”

He shakes his head once. “You’ve got that little crease between your brows.”

I touch the spot in question and sure enough, I do have a little frown line. I force it away, putting on a casual expression.

“I’m not frowning, sir.”

“You are. I know what you want, redbird.”

I shake back my hair and fix my eyes through the window. He slaps his thigh once.

“Come here,” he says.

He’s using the soft version of his commanding tone. The one I like best. I rise and go to him. He turns me around, pulling me back against his body, locking one forearm gently across my chest, right over my collarbones. His chin brushes the top of my hair.

“We don’t have many storms up here,” he says. “But when we do, it’s good for the land.”

“I like them,” I sigh.

“We’ll pull in good hay,” he says. “So long as it’s the only one. Too much rain makes for a bad season.”

I think about that as we stand together, swaying lightly. He’s so similar to the land he loves so much. He’s good at moderation, except for the areas where he isn’t. Then he’s a full blown storm that soaks the earth. In certain areas, where Cash and I are concerned, he’s willing to do anything. He’s wild and protective all at once.

But that’s why I’m safe. Why I’m not stuck under the thumb of a husband who hates me. Or dead at the hands of my brothers-in-law.

My eyes shift out the window, taking in the torrent of gray rain. Whipping the trees, making the grass roil.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks. “I can feel you’re thinking.”

I shake my head. “Nothing. I’m just happy.”

He rumbles in his chest. “I make you happy?”

“Of course you do,” I sigh, letting my head rest against him. “You make me so happy. You, Cash, the ranch, and our next baby. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

His lips brush the top of my head. He doesn’t have words, but I understand. Instead, his hand snakes around my waist and rests on my lower belly.

“I can’t wait,” I whisper.

“Neither can I.” His voice is low, his breath warm on my hair.

We stand in silence. The rain soaks the ranch until the sheet of gray lightens. Then I see the drops slow until the clouds move on. I smell that fresh scent that reminds me of the garden in spring. The storm has passed.

He pushes the door aside. It groans, rolling back to reveal the ranch house. Washed clean and bathed in pale sunlight.

Then he holds out his hand and I take it. The wet grass soaks my feet as we move slowly to the house. All the fire is out of me. I can wait until later to beg for his closeness. We sit on the porch together. He holds my hand, wrapping his fingers around my fists. Enveloping it in his warmth.

“Cash will be home soon,” I say. “I should start on dinner.”

He slides his hand around me, lifting me easily into his lap. I push my face against his neck to hide my blush. I love it when he manhandles me.

“Sit with me for a bit, redbird,” he says.

He leans back against the side of the house, the bench creaking. I nestle against his chest and release a slow sigh. The air is cooler now. The entire world feels renewed. I close my eyes and listen to the rhythm of his heart and it’s different than when we first met.

It’s peaceful.