When he pushes in a fraction, I can’t control the gasp that comes out of my mouth. He sucks it down and keeps kissing me, all while slowly pushing his way inside.
And when he’s fully seated… when we are pelvis to pelvis and he can’t go any deeper, he just rocks against me. Presses deeply.
Over and over again.
He takes me slowly and drags out every bit of pleasure between us. Our breathing matches pace with one another, our hands grasp tightly. We build all the way up and when it’s time, we take the plunge together.
Pushing in deep, he starts coming at the same time I do.
It’s magnificent, and I’ve never felt closer to him than I do at this moment.
Knowing that he needed me and based on the low moan of pleasure and relief I hear in his voice, I know that for even just a moment, I was able to give him some peace.
When he finally collapses on top of me, I hear him whisper in my ear a direct admission. “I love you, Casey.”
Chapter 24
Tenn
As our flight turns parallel to the Teton Mountain range to line up with the runway at the Jackson Airport, I feel a moderate amount of turbulence that is typical of the high crosswinds. Casey jerks awake in her seat, and I immediately take her hand.
She didn’t tell me that this was only her second time on an airplane, or that she had a slight fear of flying until we were barreling down the runway in New Bern. She clutched my hand in a death grip, imprinting little half-moon divets into the back of my hand with her nails. I only managed to get her to release her hold after plying her with two Jack and Cokes so she could relax marginally. Just before our flight left Detroit after our layover, I also had her down a few drinks before we boarded, and that takeoff was much smoother. And she’s been sleeping ever since.
I still can’t believe she came with me.
Fuck, I can’t believe my father is dead.
Grief and guilt have been a constant companion since I got the news last night. Grief that a vibrant and beloved man is dead and guilt that perhaps I was an utter disappointment to him and he died with that on my conscience. He died without me ever having the ability to just make that final decision about what I wanted to do with my life. He died with me not knowing if he even forgave me for not wanting to continue with the family’s legacy.
Casey’s hand clutches at mine again, and I can feel how sweaty her palms are. I squeeze her with reassurance, and she lays her head on my shoulder.
It’s a beautiful feeling.
I like her dependence on me for comfort.
I really like the fact she didn’t go running after I told her I loved her last night.
Granted, she didn’t say it back, but I could tell by the way her arms wrapped around me and she squeezed me so gently to her, that she was touched by my words. I know she was touched, and probably intrigued, maybe still a bit scared, but honestly… she’s open to it. I know this because she fell asleep wrapped in my embrace, and that’s how I found her this morning. Still glued to me… and it chased a little of my sadness away.
We make it through the process of deplaning and walking through the small, rustic airport to the baggage claim. After a short wait, our bags arrive… a large one that holds both of our clothes and a smaller one that holds Casey’s toiletries. I grab the big suitcase while she takes the smaller one, and lead her out the door, where I know Woolf will be waiting.
I immediately see him… leaning up against the side of a silver pickup truck with the Double J Ranch logo on the side. He’s dressed exactly as I would be if I were working the ranch. Plaid western shirt, pair of worn jeans, dusty cowboy boots, and his brown-colored Stetson pulled low over his face, the ends of his dark hair curling out from the bottom against his neck. Even with the hat pulled low, his light blue eyes, the exact duplicate of mine, shine brightly.
I step off the curb to the rear of the truck and heft the large suitcase over the back and into the bed. Woolf pushes off from the truck and walks up to me, his eyes sad with grief and the same guilt that I know is reflected in mine.
My arms open up naturally to him, and we give each other a short hug with hard slaps on the back. When I release him, he nudges the front of his hat back on his head so I can see his face more clearly. “Can’t fucking believe it, bro,” he mutters. “Fucking talking to him one minute, the next he’s on the ground and Lucky is giving him CPR.”
I wince over that grim description, hating that Woolf even had to witness our dad’s death. I’d seen a lot of death when I served in Afghanistan, but I suppose it’s quite different when you watch a family member die before your eyes.
“Sorry you had to see that, man. Wish I’d been here with you,” I say quietly… absolutely lying through my teeth. No one would want to see that.
“Fucking liar,” Woolf says with a pained grin on his face, and I can’t help give him a return smile that’s more sheepish than anything.
Turning to Casey, I reach my arm out and beckon her forward. She comes to me with sure steps, looking at Woolf with a sympathetic smile.
I introduce her simply, so there’s no question as to her status in my life. “This is my girlfriend, Casey.”
Slipping an arm around her waist to pull her in toward me, I tell her, “Goldie… this is my brother, Woolf.”
Casey sticks her hand out and Woolf shakes it, surprise on his face. I didn’t tell him I was bringing anyone because I didn’t feel like making explanations. I also didn’t feel like listening to Woolf try to talk me out of bringing someone, so it’s another reason why I kept my lips zipped about her.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Woolf says guardedly as he shakes her hand. “But welcome, Casey.”
“I’m so sorry about your father,” she says, her eyes warm and soft as she regards my little brother.
Woolf gives her an accommodating smile, continuing to look at her with a slight degree of suspicion, but at least his tone is friendly when he says, “Well… let’s get you two out to the ranch.”
After I put Casey’s carry-on into the back of the truck, I lead her to the passenger door where I climb into the back of the extended cab and offer her the front seat so she can get a better view of my old world. I may not want a place in my family’s ranching history but there is absolutely no denying… this area of Wyoming is the most beautiful place in the world. Casey’s world is gorgeous with soft, pale sand and blue-green waters that sparkle with the sun, but it just can’t compare to this area with the majestic Teton mountain range with snowcapped peaks even in the summer, wide valleys filled with fragrant sagebrush, and sparkling rivers that wind through filled with cutthroat trout. While I certainly believe I can come to love living on the coast of North Carolina, there is nothing that will ever replace my love of this part of the country.
The ranch is a good forty-five minute drive from the airport. Wyoming is land rich and people poor. You can drive over half an hour before seeing your closest neighbor, so if you are an overly social person, this isn’t necessarily the place for you.
Casey stares with her face practically pressed against the passenger window, making small noises of wonder in the back of her throat as she watches the miles melt away and yet the Teton Mountains never seem to end. She asks a few questions but for the most part, the ride is silent, filled with an awkward tension since Woolf wasn’t expecting company on this ride and no one wants to talk about how my father died.
When we get to the main entrance to the Double J, my shoulders start to stiffen. I haven’t told Casey any more details about my family and the ranch. She has no clue what she’s walking in to, and while I’d like to say that I simply didn’t have the time to bring her up to speed, the fact of the matter is I just didn’t feel up to it. I have no clue how she’s going to react, but I figure it will be one of two ways. She’ll either be pissed or she won’t, and I figured that was going to happen whether I filled her in before or filled her in now.