It’s basically a perfect description for my feelings for Chad.
Imprisoned.
No chance of escape.
But a lot like the lasso he had me wrapped up in earlier this week, I know I can muscle my way out of him if I struggled hard enough. I’m technically free to leave whenever I like.
If it weren’t for the deep pit in my chest.
The deep pit that screams: I don’t want to leave. I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to go back—I’m warm, I’m here, and I’m happy.
But Spruce, Texas isn’t my home.
Los Angeles is, now.
Still, long after I wake up, I keep my eyes closed and relish the feeling of being wrapped in Chad Landry’s big, strong arms. I listen to him breathe so peacefully. He probably should be awake by now. He bragged earlier this week about how he’s always up by sunrise to get a head start on all his morning tasks on the ranch, yet every day so far, he’s slept in with me.
I wonder if that means I’m a terrible influence on him.
Or if it’s just another sign of how much he wants this, too.
“I could lie here all day,” he murmurs.
Oh. He is awake.
Like me.
“I doubt all your ranch hands would appreciate that,” I point out. “Or Old Man Mitch. Or your animals. Especially that cute little Dorothy Gale. I hear she’s a fussy one.”
Chad chuckles lightly in my ear. “So Jo told you about that.”
“I better not come back here a few months from now and find a chicken named after me. That’d be weird.”
“Would it? Wait a sec.” He lifts his head up to get a better look at me. “Come back here a few months from now? Are you makin’ plans, Goodwin? Is that what I’m hearin’?”
I shrug in his arms. “Maybe. Maybe not. No one can really say what’s swimmin’ around in my head right now.”
“Today ain’t goodbye, I’m tellin’ ya. You better get that idea outta your head, if it’s still there. It’s just ‘see ya later, sexy’.”
“See ya later, sexy,” I repeat back to him, smiling to myself.
That surely feels a lot better to say.
Better than goodbye.
After a quick breakfast, I pack all my things in a hurry, noting we’ve lost track of time. He offers to drive me out to the airport, which isn’t a short drive by any means, I warn him. Of course, he insists anyway, and before I even have a chance to say goodbye to a single chicken in the coop, we’re in his truck flying down the long, winding highway out to the edge of Fairview where the nearest airport is.
It’s just before reaching the (short) line at the TSA that I face Chad with my rolling luggage at my side, and we stare silently into each other’s eyes, unsure what to say.
He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his tight jeans. His buckle shines at me, like a wink. “I’ll hear from you later, then?” he asks, peering at me under the shade of his short and messy light brown bangs. “When you get back into your place and promptly kick out Sal Pal and your ex? When you got it all back to yourself?”
I smirk. That’s another issue in and of itself I’m not looking forward to facing: Sal and Richie. “Yep. I’ll call you.”
“I already can’t wait.”
He looks like he’s holding his breath between sentences.
His face is turning red. He won’t look away from me.
I have to take a deep breath and stretch my lungs, if anything but to keep my emotions under control. I have to be the strong one here, because if I give any indication to him, he’ll talk me into staying another week, I’ll give in, then I’ll stay a month more, and there goes my career.
A part of me wonders if that’s such a bad outcome.
“You okay?” he asks.
I smile too quickly. “I’m just thinking of the mess I’ll have to clean up when I get back to my place. Salvador is basically a giant child, as is Richie, so I expect I’ll be faced with a lot of—”
“That’s not really what’s botherin’ you.”
My gaze snaps to his.
He gently pulls me in for a hug, then rubs my back.
That little action says it all.
I close my eyes and melt against him.
He puts his lips at my ear. “See ya later, sexy.”
I try on a smile.
It falls right off.
He pulls away and gets a look at my face. “When you get back to LA, hit that ground runnin’, and I wanna hear about that big ol’ show of yours in a few weeks. You’re gonna kill it, Lance.”
“I’m having feelings here.”
His hands drop to my hips. “What do you mean? Feelings?”
“Yeah. Feelings. I’m having them. You’re holding me like your boyfriend, by the way.”
“So?” He pulls me against him. Our crotches collide. “No one here knows us. Besides, I want to feel you close to me before I let you go for a while. Doesn’t this feel nice? Holdin’ each other?”