Page 51 of Live, Ranch, Love

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a bit obsessed with me, Aurora.” I nudge her, feeling so silly for trying to touch her any way I can.

“What? Why?” Her eyes flash wide, and I watch the column of her throat work as she gulps. She glances around my face, genuinely looking concerned—no retort or insistence that I shouldn’t flatter myself like I expected.

My lips twitch. “Zach Bryan? You’ve started listening to him. I told you he was my favourite singer.”

“Oh,” she says as she blows out a breath, relaxing back into the swing again. She bites her lip and shakes her head. “Though I hate to admit it, you’ve got good taste. His songs are… beautiful, really.”

Aurora shuffles around to face me, and the remnants of the setting sun’s amber rays dowse her in golden light, making her freckled cheekbones gleam and her honey eyes even richer. The way her messy waves tumble over one of her cheeks, shining like rivers of fire, is too divine.

The shivers that race down my spine just confirm how holy her beauty is. And that I might need Zach Bryan to write the soundtrack to my life.

Aurora’s lips hook up into a mischievous grin as her eyes brighten. “In fact, this is the perfect song to finish that dance you owe me from last week.”

“Um, I—”

I don’t have a chance to protest because Aurora takes my glass away and settles it with hers underneath the swing, then grabs both my hands and yanks me up, giggling. I’m panicking because I’m not sure I’ll survive this—her warm body pressed against mine, barely any material separating us as I’m able to explore the curve of her waist, hips, back. All with the thought of her and that vibrator in my mind.

Yet here I am, not saying no, because once again, I am a weak, weak man.

Aurora slips both arms around my neck, lifting onto her tiptoes. One finger slowly strokes the back of my neck, while she inches close enough that her breasts press against my chest, causing me to inhale sharply. I can feel her heartbeat racing. Biting her lip, she watches me, not smiling until I take her in my hands, letting them splay over her hips, treading the fine line of how low down I can touch her.

I never let myself indulge.

I know the universe doesn’t reward those who are greedy, that if I let myself get too carried away, something will come to humble me.

But maybe tonight can be an exception.

Because the way Aurora’s staring up at me as we sway to the music is like I’ve hung the moon. And I’d do anything to have the way she looks right now tattooed into my mind.

Aurora Jones. Forever.

The shivers resurface when she stretches up so she can rest her head in the crook of my neck, hair tickling my jaw. Her breath is hot against my shoulder, coming out in heavy shudders. I rub my thumbs up her hips, caressing the soft curve of her waist, hating the thin barrier of satin. When her breath hitches, I let my fingers dig into her skin just a little, wanting to make her gasp like that every morning. Every night.

My whole body aches with need, blood feeling unbearably thick as it rushes through my veins along with the whiskey, pulsing with my unsteady heart.

“Wyatt,” Aurora whispers against my shoulder.

It’s all I need to pull me from my silly daydream. I’ve had my fill, and now I need to come back to reality. I can’t fuck this up, no matter how badly I want to.

I yank my hands away, taking a step back, and announce the first thing that pops into my head incredibly loudly, “My parents are coming over tomorrow so we’re not going to the bar.”

“Um…” Aurora’s forehead creases as her arms slowly lower. She mumbles, “That seems totally relevant.”

I shuffle back until I’m leaning against the porch fence, putting plenty of distance between us. But it doesn’t stop the words from spilling because now I’m suddenly really nervous and I don’t like the way Aurora’s glaring at me. I feel too hot.

“Cherry will be there too. They want to see what we’ve been working on. I’m gonna cook us all dinner if, um, if you wanted to join?” My laugh comes out all nervous. “I’m sure they’d love to meet you—because you’re my boss, technically—”

“Wyatt?” Aurora waves. “Are you alright?”

Definitely not. I’ve never been this flustered around a woman.

“Yeah, why?” I shrug.

She shakes her head, laughing. “Because you had total verbal diarrhoea then, when normally you communicate in grunts.”

I sigh, the whole verbal diarrhoea phrase helping to dispel any still-roaming wild thoughts in my head. “Sorry, yeah. Too much to drink, ha. I should probably get going. We’ve both had a long day. I expect you want to get some beauty sleep before your meeting tomorrow.”

Aurora’s face drops, and she jumps forward as I go to head off. “You could do your meal here.”

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