"Hey, I was a very tiny teenager, but now I could take you," she laughed.
"I'll remember you said that when I throw down my challenge."
Joanne shook her head at me and went back to doing her share of the chores. I'd expected her to get cold and tired before too long, but she worked without complaint until we were done. We stood back and admired our work. She brushed a hand over the cow closest to her and smiled.
"They're really sweet. I forgot about that," she whispered. "This was fun."
"Honestly, I've never brought a woman out here in the cold. My ex used to come out sometimes, but she hated this stuff. Or anything that would make her get dirty. She was more of the indoor type."
"I can't imagine you dating anyone who didn't just live and breathe dirt and mud. You were always getting dirty somehow when we were younger."
"Oh yeah. My mom used to ask me all the time if I'd rolled in the stuff," I laughed. "It used to drive her right up a wall."
I glanced over at her. She smiled as she took in everything around us. I could see the way her eyes darted around, collecting memories and storing them away. That ache in my chest turned into full-blown longing.
I don't want her to leave.
The realization was sudden and strong, but I knew that I meant it. I didn't want Joanne to leave me again. Worse than that, I didn't want her to leave the ranch again. It suited her. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes determined and the smile on her lips said exactly why she should stay.
I could see a life with her.
Joanne took my hand and I jumped a little in surprise. "Now, I'm cold," she chuckled. "Can we go inside and have warm-up cocoa?"
"And warm up sex?" I asked with a grin.
"I could go for that."
"Alright," I laughed. "Let's get you out of my clothes."
Chapter 9
Joanne
"We have to stop doing this," I groaned as I stretched out on Peter's couch.
"Never," he called from his spot on the floor where he hadn't quite moved in a while. "I will never stop doing this. Seriously, how did we never do this?"
I laughed and buried my face in my arms before I peeked over at him. His eyes were closed, but he wore a smile on his lips. His dark hair was a wild mess on his head and every inch of his body was bare as he laid on the rug and let the fire from the fireplace warm him.
I could look at him like this all day.
Honestly, I'd thought this would be more awkward, but it wasn't. It was familiar and comfortable, like we'd been together for years. I reached down the side of the couch and pushed my fingers through his hair. The smile on his face widened and he hummed content and happy into them.
I can't stay. It was something I kept having to remind myself. The problem was that Peter had always been home, and the knot in my stomach said I would feel like that even when I ran back to Vegas.
Slowly, I pulled my hand away.
This sucks.
I was constantly torn between giving in to whatever bit of happiness I had and returning to the life that I'd worked so hard to build for myself out in the desert. Peter's eyes opened and he trained them on me.
"What's wrong?"
I smiled. "Not a thing. My arm is just getting tired from hanging off of the couch."
"You know I can always tell when you're lying, right? You were always shit at it."
"I'll take that as a compliment. Who wants to be good at lying?" I laughed as I side-stepped the question and sat up. "How's it looking out there?"