Page 71 of Till The Cows Come Home
“Not gonna happen,” I whispered, peppering kisses along his jaw.
“I didn’t think so,” he murmured, soaking in my kisses as I moved from his jaw to his collarbone. Just as I began to lift his shirt, he stopped me, groaning in frustration. “I told the crew I’d meet them outside right at six to go over the next step, so unfortunately, as much as I’d love to stay here all day with you, I cannot.”
“Fine,” I huffed, and as I stood to get ready, I made a point to slowly remove my pajamas until I stood naked in the middle of the room. Walking over to the dresser, I took my time as I bent over, leaving nothing to the imagination. I retrieved an outfit from my designated drawer space, and when I stood up, I turned around to see Miles watching me, his hands shoved deep into his front pockets.
After shimmying on my underwear and jeans, I raised my arms to pull on my bra, pausing as he strode across the room. Before I knew what he was doing he bent down, sucking my nipple into his mouth, and I cried out as he bit down, but the initial tinge of pain quickly melded into pleasure. He used his tongue to smooth away where his teeth had just been, and I rocked on my heels as he continued sucking and kissing along my breast. I tipped my head back, soaking in his touch, until I felt my bra tug down, covering up all the places he’d just been.
“You tease,” I growled.
“I’m the tease?” he boomed, tipping his head back tolaugh. “Get dressed. I’m going to go wait outside or we’ll never leave this house.”
I giggled, pulling on my shirt, but before he could get too far I grabbed him, pulling him into a kiss.
“I love you, Miles Carver.”
“I love you, Sage Baker. More than you’ll ever know.”
“I think I have an idea,” I said with a smirk.
He kissed my cheek before heading outside and as I finished my coffee I could hear the crew greet him as he walked off the porch. As much as I longed to stay in my little bubble, it was lonely by myself, so I stepped outside its confines and happily joined the people that made each day worthwhile.
The frame of the barn had taken hold after a long day of work, and we were even able to begin on the exterior walls, putting us ahead yet again. The sun began to set, and as the crew wrapped up, packing their tools, I gravitated towards my dad to see what he thought we could accomplish. Occasionally, when everyone headed home for the day, my father and I lingered, working an hour or two extra, and this evening when I’d told my dad Miles was busy, he was eager to hang around. The time had become our bonding time. Sometimes we’d talk, but a lot of the time we’d just exist. The first time Miles left, he attempted to force us home, but after receiving two Baker stare downs, he caved, instead mumbling for us to be careful.
“You still good to stick around?” I asked, approaching my father who was sitting on a stump sipping from a bottle of water.
“I’m good if you are, sweetheart. What do you think about ordering a pizza?”
“Oooooo,” I cooed, “We're treating ourselves tonight. You know I’m in.”
“Your mother left town to go shopping, and I’m not super interested in cooking for myself, if I’m being honest.”
“I don’t blame you, Miles and I haven’t cooked a proper meal in weeks.”
“It’ll be done soon, and then you won't know what to do with all your free time.”
“I think I’ll stay busy guiding the youth of Lox through agriculture.” I winked.
“That’s my girl.”
About thirty minutes later, my dad stood on a ladder, nailing in the sheets as I put them in place, a monotonous task but one we could handle together. We’d decided to tackle the bottom boards for the evening, the lack of light mixed with my father’s deteriorating vision forcing us to choose a task that didn’t require heavy equipment. I could run it, but I couldn’t bear to watch my father climb up and down a ladder all evening, and although he’d never admit he was too old for the task, he didn’t offer to take it on either.
Just as we finished nailing in another board, the pizza was delivered, and as I retrieved it from the driver my father ran inside to grab more water. We didn’t bother with plates, instead passing the box back and forth, and after a few slices each we both sat engorged.
“How about we finish this section and pack up?” he asked, and I nodded, standing in an attempt to walk off the food coma I’d put myself in. After a few laps, the pizza settled deep in my gut, but we pushed forward anyway, picking up right where we’d left off.
“Just a few more,” I grunted, holding my body against the sheet of wood as I waited for my father to secure it into place. I paused for a moment when I didn’t hear the nail gun, but backed away anyway, assuming my ears had deceived me.
“What the hell, Dad!” I yelled as the board fell onto me.
I caught the brunt of the wood, and when I shoved itaway, discarding into the grass, my father’s body laid in a heap at the bottom of the ladder.
“No, no, no,” I mumbled as I ran towards him, kneeling next to his body.
After several unanswered shakes I reached for his wrist, then to his neck.
Nothing.
Trembles slowed my dialing, and after the longest few seconds of my life I finally managed to call for help.
