Page 46 of Cabins Cows Critics
I take a final sip and hand it over. “When it’s done, maybe. It’s rough, spelling errors and missed punctuation all over the place. It would hurt your eyes to see it the way it is now, trust me.”
“I’m sure it’s amazing even with all those things, but I’m happy to wait until you’re ready.”
“I should probably change if we’re pie making,” I say, grabbing a change of clothes and heading into the bathroom.Wendy might be totally fine changing in front of me, but I’m far shyer, except when I’m in the bedroom with Connor. Then, this confident personality emerges. I dreamed of him last night. It was him and me in that large shower of his, me working him open with my fingers before fucking him senseless. I’m glad that the writing spark hit now and not tonight when I’m supposed to meet him. I’m not sure I could have had the restraint to stay away from him even if the muse was calling.
We get up to the house, and the other guests are already tying aprons around themselves, and Sally-May hands us two frilly pink ones.
“Did I miss it?” Atlas asks, barreling through the kitchen door.
“No, but you get the last apron, no complaints,” she says, tossing him one with a print on it. As he ties it around himself, I have to laugh. Printed on the front is the bare chest of a very hairy, muscled man, and from the waist, he’s wearing only a cowboy hat held over his groin.
Someone whistles, and he blushes but puffs his chest out a little with a smirk, clearly a fan of the attention.
“Okay, find a place,” Sally-May instructs as we maneuver around the large kitchen island. It’s tight in here with all of us, but we somehow make it work. Atlas shuffles between me and one of the sisters from cabin seven. They’re always taking photos and videos of themselves and the animals and posting online, they asked if they could tag me in a video they took on the ride the other day, I agreed, but when I checked out the post later, you see me for all of a split second as the younger of the sisters pans to Atlas’s ass bouncing up and down in the saddle on his horse.
“If I have to wear clothes, at least this gives me the illusion of freedom,” Atlas jokes, nudging my side. “What do you think about a nudist weekend?”
“With you?” I ask, taken aback, but he bursts out laughing.
“Not specifically, but here, on the ranch. It would be fun, right?” he asks, and Sally-May waves a spatula in his face.
“No recruiting the guests into your lifestyle, you’re here to learn to make pie.”
“Sorry,” he replies with a wink my way that makes me think he is anything but sorry.
We mix up our dough, Sally-May checking each for consistency before we roll them out and fold over our pie trays.
“You would have to do it in summer,” I say to Atlas as his pie crust breaks when he flips it onto his base, and he grudgingly bunches it into a ball to roll out again.
“Spring would probably be better, summer on the ranch can get pretty hot, and leather saddles and sweat aren’t so good.”
“You’ve really thought this through, huh?”
“I’ll convince Dean one of these days. I just have to catch him at a weak point.”
“So it’s up to Dean what you guys put on here?” I ask.
He shrugs. “He and Nial run the place, but you’ve probably noticed Dean is the responsible one. If it were only up to Nial, I probably would have a whole month dedicated to nudists.”
“Would not,” Sally-May interjects, slapping his hand and taking over to finish his rolling and then lifts his dough over the pie shell, shaking her head as she moves on to check the others.
“What about this Christmas thing? Was that Dean, too?”
“Actually, it was Skye. He’s obsessed with Christmas,” he replies, and I remember the red and green overalls he was wearing the day before last.
“It’s a good idea. The ranch is really beautiful, covered in snow.”
“You will have to come back to see it in the spring. It’s even better, the grass is green, flowers bloom through the surrounding land, and we get an influx of babies.”
“Connor must love that.”
“Yeah, he’s obsessed with the little ones. It took him a while to get on board with the bigger cattle, though.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, well, his experience is all in young cattle, plus the minis, dwarf breeds, you know, the ones he has at the cove.”
“So he’s trained as like a cow pediatrician?”
