Chapter Text
The car is packed, duffle bags and a small suitcase crammed into the trunk. May is buckled into her spot in the backseat and squirming excitedly the closer you get to the ranch. After telling your boss that you would be taking two weeks off and not taking no for an answer, you had been looking forward to the break. The ranch isn’t as far out as you expected, only about forty minutes away from downtown Austin.
According to Joel, it’s near Lake Travis, nestled away on a quiet patch of land with nothing but paddocks for miles on the property. That’s all you can see as you drive along the road, May pressing her face against the window as she watches other ranches and small farms pass by.
“Mommy, did you see the sheep?” she asks, tapping her finger on the back window.
“No, honey, I’m driving, I can’t look at all the animals.”
“But they were so cute,” she whines, drawing out the words.
“I bet they were. Well, what about Joel’s horses? You excited to see them, huh?”
May makes an exasperated sound, like your question has an obvious answer—which, in her mind, it does—and you can picture her rolling her eyes at the back of your head from her place behind you.
“Yeah, of course I am. And Sarah’s got a little pony and she said I could ride it after Joel teaches me, he didn’t say if I’m allowed so I’m not sure though. And Joel said we can feed all the horses, he said they like apples, and he said we can take them on the trail. And he said we can even help wash and brush them, and I think I might try to braid their tails like the show horses have sometimes and—”
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down,” you laugh, eyes flicking to the rear vision mirror to see her practically vibrating in her seat.
“But I’m so excited,” she nearly squeals, voice high-pitched as she taps her feet repeatedly on the floor of the back seat.
“I know, I know you are, and we’re almost there. So calm down a beat, honey, you don’t wanna scare the horses if you’re too excited, do you?”
“No,” she drawls, softer, and you can tell she’s tamping down her enthusiasm. “I won’t scare them, promise.”
“Okay, good,” you laugh, reaching one hand back to squeeze her knee reassuringly.
It’s only a few more minutes before you pull off the main road onto a gravel driveway, winding up through a set of trees and thick bushes. You drive up through a metal gateway, adorned with the word Miller across the top. As you follow the rocky path around, you turn and behind the last set of bushes, you finally see the house. It’s a beautiful pale brick home with a long wooden wrap-around porch that seems to span the entire front and left side of the house. Three dormers are situated along the roof of the main section of the house and there’s another long extension on the right-hand side, with well-manicured flower beds adorning the grass along the outside walls.
About thirty yards from the extension is a large stable made from an off-white stone, with wide dark wooden doors across the front and small windows along the sides, which you assume are for each of the horse stalls. One of the doors is swung wide, being propped open by a very large wheelbarrow stacked up with hay bales.
You park next to Joel’s truck, in front of the grey stone path leading up to the house and as you open the door, you hear a familiar voice call out.
“That you guys?”
Turning towards the source, you see Joel as he steps out of the stable, dusting his palms off on his faded blue jeans as he walks. He holds a hand up to his forehead, cupping it over his eyes as he squints in the low light of the late afternoon, a wide grin overtaking his face when he sees you.
His pace quickens, long strides as he makes his way over to you. The dark grey flannel he’s wearing stretches over his shoulders, at least half of the buttons undone and the sleeves pushed up his forearms. As he gets closer, you can see the sheen of sweat across his forehead and collarbones, the tan skin of his chest rising and falling as he takes in laboured breaths, clearly spent from a day of work. You involuntarily swallow hard at the sight of him, squeezing your car keys in your hand.
He moves towards you first, arm outstretched, but halts his steps as May scrambles out of the car, tiny limbs flailing as she hurdles towards him. Colliding with his legs, she tugs on his arm and looks up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“Horses?” she asks without hesitation.
“Well, hello to you, too,” Joel huffs out with a laugh, raising a hand to cradle the crown of her head.
“May,” you chastise, gesturing for her to let go and come back over to you. She ignores you and keeps holding on tightly to his other hand. “What did we just say in the car? There’s nothing wrong with being excited, but just calm down a bit. Can you be polite and say hi to Joel properly, please?”
She makes an indignant noise in the back of her throat, frowning at you before looking back up at Joel with wide doe-eyes. “Hi, Joel.”
He smoothes her hair back and grins down at her, the little dimple in his cheek appearing. “Hey, honey. You wanna be good for your mom and go and get your stuff outta the car? You got a backpack or somethin’?”
She pouts and shuffles back to the car to collect it from the backseat.
“Sorry,” you murmur, a sheepish smile curling on your lips.
You both walk towards the trunk of the car and he lightly touches his hand to your upper arm, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek in greeting. The scent of sweat and salt and dirt invade your senses, his fingers lingering against you for a long moment. Your stomach somersaults, and you fiddle with the car keys in your hand nervously.
“It’s alright, sweetheart, no need for apologies,” he says with a shake of his head. “Just glad you’re here—that you’re both here,” he adds the last part on hastily, clearing his throat as his eyes shift away from you.
“Us too. Thanks again for having us, Joel, it’s real kind of you.”
“Hush now, you’ve already said thank you about ten times, and it was unnecessary the first time. You don’t gotta keep sayin’ it, okay? It’s my pleasure.”
Turning toward the car, you open the trunk up and reach forward for the handles of your bags. Before you can get a grip, Joel leans around you and pulls the two duffle bags out, biceps bulging in his sleeves, hoisting both bags over his shoulder before he grabs the small suitcase in his other hand.
“Joel—” you begin to protest.
“I got it. Just lock up and follow me inside.”
“Let me—”
“What do I keep sayin’ to you? Accept the help,” he chastises playfully with a wry smile.
You let out a reluctant noise of acceptance, stepping closer to May and helping her tug the straps of her sparkly backpack over her shoulders. Locking the car, you walk up the path towards the house with your daughter in tow, stone and gravel crackling under your feet. Joel holds the door open for both of you, the heat of his body felt as you pass by, before he places the suitcase down and pulls the handle up to roll it behind him as he walks further inside. You’re not able to see much of the house yet, only getting a quick glimpse of the sitting room before Joel starts guiding you down the hallway.
“I’ll take you on a tour in a bit, but y’all can just get settled in first,” he says over his shoulder before calling out to his own daughter, “Sarah! May’s here, pumpkin.”
As you approach the end of the hallway, a door on the right swings open and Sarah comes bounding out, squealing as she grabs May by the arms. “You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!”
They begin to take off into Sarah’s room before Joel places an arm across the doorway, blocking them from getting in. “Hold on just a second, little lady, I gotta show May her room first.”
“But—”
“You got two weeks with her, just hold on.”
Her shoulders slump, letting go of May’s arm who turns back to you with a pout. Joel removes his arm, placing it gently on May’s shoulder and walking her to the room across the hall. “Alright, now, this is your room. And, look, you’re just across the way from Sare Bear so y’all can play to your heart's content, okay?” he chuckles. “Which bag is yours?”
“The blue one.”
He swings the blue duffle bag off his shoulder and places it on the bed. It’s a decently sized room with a large window overlooking the front yard, the bed pushed into the corner, and an old-looking wooden cupboard in the other corner. It’s just a simple guest room, nothing flashy, but you know May won’t care, too preoccupied with the horses and spending time with Sarah.
“Thank you,” May says, and you smile at her for remembering her manners.
“Okay, Sarah, now you two can go.”
Sarah grabs May’s hand again and pulls her back towards her own room while Joel turns to you. “Alright, let’s go. I’ll take you to your room now.”
You nod and follow him back down the hallway, Joel rolling the suitcase behind him again. Watching his large figure as he walks, the sweat-damp curls at the back of his neck, you sigh as the sight of him makes your heart rate quicken. He leads you through the main part of the house, passing the large lounge room with a massive stone fireplace and worn leather couch in front of the television. It looks cosy, with a Turkish-style rug across the floor and an old grandfather clock in the corner.
“We’re on the other side of the house, away from the girls,” he says over his shoulder, turning back to face forward before you see the slight curl of his lip.
“Great,” you reply quietly, half under your breath, eyeing up the width of his back.
“Great?” he repeats with a chuckle, stopping in front of two doors. He turns towards you, eyebrow raised, and now you can see the smirk on his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing! Nothing, I—”
“Just teasin’,” he says cheekily.
You feel yourself squirm under his dark eyes, following behind him as he pushes the door open with his shoulder and walks in. The room is relatively the same as May’s room, just slightly bigger with a double bed, set of drawers, and a desk below the window. He rolls the suitcase to the end of the bed, setting your duffle bag down next to it before righting himself and turning to you with an exhale.
“This is you. I’m just next door,” he says, cocking his head towards the door. “Will this be okay? Do you need anything?”
“No, no, this is perfect. Thank you, really, it’s great.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Alright. I’m just gonna go take a shower, wash the stink of those damn horses off, then we can go out in the truck and I can show you guys the property. That sound good?”
“Yeah, take your time. I’ll just unpack and wait until you’re ready.”
Joel nods, hands on his hips. “I’ll be ten minutes, tops.” He looks around the room, making sure everything is in order before lightly touching your arm, fingers trailing down towards your hand, as he walks back out. “See you in a bit.”
You’re sitting on the bench seat of Joel’s truck, his arm thrown over the back of the seat and resting next to your shoulder as he holds the wheel with one hand. The girls are in the back, giggling every time the car hits a bump in the paddock, making them jump in their spots in the backseat. When the car isn’t jolting her around, May has her face pressed to the window like she did on the drive up to the ranch, and it makes your chest feel light at how excited and happy she is.
Sneaking a glance over at Joel, you notice the corner of his mouth twitch as he turns the wheel abruptly, causing the cab of the truck to bounce as it hits another mound of dirt. There’s another chorus of laughter from the back, and you exhale a soft ooft at the impact while Joel’s palm slides down from the backrest to curl around your shoulder, steadying you.
“Sorry,” he laughs, grin wide and carefree.
You snort out a laugh, eyes sparkling in the low light of the afternoon sun. “Yeah, right. You sure seem sorry, laughing at me like that—gonna give me a damn concussion when I fly out of my seat and hit the roof.”
He tuts, eyes creasing at the corners as his smile grows even bigger. “Wouldn’t let that happen,” he says with a wink.
Joel doesn’t move his hand, palm still warm from his earlier shower, the feeling burning into your skin and you slouch further down so he can settle his arm around you properly. Looking up at him, you see the dimple on his cheek, the soft wisps of still-damp hair that curl around his ear. He casts another glance at you, eyes soft as his thumb reaches up to run across your jaw before the weight of his arm settles around you again, knuckles brushing back and forth against the top of your arm.
Your cheeks feel hot, teeth biting the inside of your lip to contain your grin. It’s so simple, but it’s the first time his touch is definitive, purposeful; every other graze or brush of his hands has been too fleeting to actually mean something—even the small press of his lips to your cheekbone when you arrived could be chalked up to a friendly greeting.
You want to touch him, too, lay your hand on the thick expanse of his thigh, bring your other hand up to intertwine your fingers with his where they rest over your shoulder.
The truck begins to slow, turning in a circle and parking on an angle at the top of a hill, the wheel passing through Joel’s hand as it spins back. “Okay, girlies, here we are,” he says loudly over his shoulder. “May, when you get out of the car, have a look down the hill.”
Unbuckling your seatbelt as Joel hops out of the car, you turn in your spot to look back at the girls. “All good, everything okay so far?” you ask your daughter, leaning back to help her with her seatbelt.
“All good, Mom,” she says with a polite smile, jumping out after Sarah.
Your door opens, turning back to see Joel holding it open for you with his hip, one hand on the roof of the cab. The wind catches the edge of his shirt where it rises up, and you see a sliver of his stomach, catching a glimpse of the trail of hair that leads below his belt. You swallow, eyes moving up to his other hand which is outstretched towards you before taking it gently as he helps you out. The scent of pine needles and wildflowers surrounds you, the lush green grass enveloping your boots.
Before you can say anything, an excited squeal hits your ears, the sound of two feet hitting the ground as your daughter jumps up and down, arms flailing at her sides.
“Was waitin’ for that,” Joel laughs.
“Mommy! Look, come look,” May shouts.
“What is it?” you ask Joel with a smile.
“Go see for yourself,” he murmurs gently, guiding you forward with the tips of his fingers.
Walking over to the crest of the hill, you come up behind May to see what she is looking at. Before you, sprawled out on the field across the bottom slope of the hill, lies a large paddock with a herd of cows grazing—brown, tan, black and white spotted, a few smaller calves standing under the legs of their mothers. In another paddock further down, a few longhorns lie under a tree, sitting peacefully in the late afternoon breeze.
“Look at the baby ones!” May squeaks, a few of the cows turning to look up towards you at the sound of her voice.
“Oh, look at them,” you coo. “They’re so sweet.”
“You can get closer if you want, May,” Joel calls from behind. You turn to look over your shoulder at him and he’s opening up the back of the truck, laying out the familiar picnic rug from weekend soccer across the bed. “If they come up to the fence you can pat ‘em. Just be gentle and don’t startle them. Sare Bear, you’ll show her, right?”
“‘Course, Dad.”
The girls start to make their way down the hill, holding hands so they don’t slip on the uneven grass. The sky above is painted in streaks of pink and orange, colours bleeding into wispy clouds that float on the horizon as the sun disappears. You hear Joel let out a soft grunt, casting a glance behind you again to see him sitting on the now fully laid out rug. Taking a few steps back to the truck, you place your hands on the edge of the bed and hoist yourself up next to him, sliding back until your legs dangle off the edge.
You watch as May steps up onto the paddock fence, hooking her elbows over the large piece of wood to hold herself upright.
“Surprised she’s not jumping over the damn thing and running around in there with them.”
Joel huffs out a laugh. “I do recall you saying best behaviour. Don’t think chasin’ after the cows and scaring the absolute shit out of them would constitute being on her best behaviour.”
“All bets are off when it comes to animals, she just gets so excited. Animals are really her thing. Just you wait until she sees the horses. Christ.”
“Mom!” she calls behind her. “Look at the big ones over there.”
“I know, honey. Longhorns. Pretty cool, huh?”
“Do you wanna go down and have a look?” Joel asks you.
Leaning back on your palms, you take a big breath and observe the girls for a long moment before looking over to Joel with a gentle smile. “No, ‘m good for now. Would rather sit here with you.”
He grins, eyes soft and affectionate, the low afternoon sun catching the threads of silver in his hair. You swallow hard as you watch him, the thrum of your heartbeat pulsing in your throat and the dimple in his cheek as he smiles at you making you feel off-kilter.
A mother cow and her calf begin to walk towards the fence with Sarah’s gentle coaxing. They stop at the edge, the calf standing further back as the mother bends her head to chew on some grass. Her ears flick back and forth as she stands upright again, listening to the girls as they whisper to each other, and you watch as May tentatively holds her hand out before carefully brushing it down the cow's nose.
“Look at that,” Joel marvels.
You hear her faint giggle, warmth spreading in your chest as you watch her begin to gently pet the top of the cow’s head. Sarah slots her arm through the gap in the fence, motioning to the calf as it gradually steps closer. You can’t hear them, but you can see Sarah gesturing to the calf and saying something to May, who nods and slowly holds her hand out towards it. The calf sniffs her, looks to its mother, and then takes the last few steps forward, pressing its head into her palm.
“Does the little one have a name?” you ask.
“I usually let Sarah name them, not sure what she’s decided for that one.”
Knocking your knee against his, you grin up at him. “That’s so sweet.”
“I guess she’s like May in that way, too, she gets so excited every spring if there are new calves. Loves to meet them and help feed them before she decides their names.”
Before you can reply, a squealing giggle catches your attention, and you look back down to the girls as the calf begins to lick May’s hand. She bunches her shoulders up, squirming and laughing, Sarah snickering at her when the calf sticks its tongue out towards them.
You snort, covering your mouth as you chuckle into your hand, trying to cover your laugh. “Oh my God,” you splutter. “You okay?”
“Um—” she stutters, wiping her hand on the back of her pants, “I’m good.”
“It’s just sayin’ hello,” Joel assures, smiling encouragingly at her.
“It? Her name is Henrietta, Dad,” Sarah grumbles, placing her hands on her hips in a pose that is identical to one you’ve seen Joel do many times.
“Henri-what-now?”
“Henrietta!” she cries out, sighing in an exasperated manner.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel mumbles under his breath. “Sorry, Henrietta was saying hello.”
“Hi, Henrietta,” May beams, petting her on the head once more.
Giggling to yourself, Joel knocks his knee against yours, copying your actions from moments ago, and you shoot him a teasing look.
“God, that girl,” he muses.
“I know the feeling,” you reply with a contemplative sigh, watching your daughter as she listens to Sarah talking about the cows.
Looking out at the surroundings, you admire the expanse of picturesque greenery around the fields, the tufts of wildflowers that grow across the paddocks, and the soothing sway of the leaves in the breeze.
“It’s really very beautiful here,” you murmur. “All the nature and everything… you’re very lucky to have this place.”
“I know. My pops lucked out buyin’ this, way back when.”
“I just can’t get over this view, God, I could sit here all evening.”
“You and May ought’a come back in the fall, I’d argue it’s even prettier when the leaves change,” Joel suggests casually, ignoring the pinch of nervousness in his chest.
“Gee, Miller, we’ve not even been here a day and you’re already inviting us back? What if we’re terrible house guests?” you jest, shooting him a grin.
“That invitation can be taken back at any time, so you better keep on your best behaviour,” he chuckles, raising an eyebrow as his tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip.
The movement sends a pulse between your thighs, and you let out a half-hearted laugh, taking a deep breath as you turn and face back towards the paddock.
You watch as the last light of the day begins to die, the final flares of the sun casting brilliant rays across the sky. The gentle trill of the cicadas echo around you, a soothing lull combined with the occasional noises of the herd below. It’s so peaceful, with only the noises of nature and the faint voices of the girls. Releasing a breath, you lay back on the rug, fully stretching out in the back of the truck bed, taking a long moment to feel your muscles begin to loosen.
“It’s so quiet,” you murmur.
“I know,” Joel replies. “Reckon it’s one of my favourite things about comin’ here. It’s so calm, ‘specially at night.”
“I could get used to this.”
He hums, a noise of agreement. “You know, I’m real glad you’re here.”
You raise a hand and wave him off, eyes still closed. “Yeah, for sure, it’ll be great for May, I think.”
Joel is quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” he drawls, voice soft. “But I’m glad you’re here—that you decided to come.”
“Oh?” You crack open an eye just for a second and see him staring down at his hands, picking at his thumbnail.
“Yeah, sweetheart, I mean—” He stops, sighs. “You’ve needed a break for a long while, it seems, and I’m glad you’re finally gettin’ it—that I can help give that to you. You deserve it.”
You open your eyes again, and he’s looking down at you now, eyes soft and rounded. “Thank you, Joel,” you murmur, arm reaching up to gently touch his bicep.
“And… selfishly, I guess, I’m glad that we’re gonna be spendin’ this time together.”
Lips pulling into a satisfied smile, you gaze up at him fondly. “Me too,” you whisper.
His hand moves up to your face, cupping your cheek and curling around the delicate structure of your jaw, the gesture so measured and careful. He releases a long breath, thumb soothing against the top of your cheekbone as his eyes flit across your face. You track the movement of his gaze, your own hand coming up to graze against his wrist. There’s a tightening in your chest, the quickening of your pulse. Behind him, as the wind pushes a cloud along in the sky, a glow forms around the crown of his head—an ethereal haze, a glimmer that shines across his broad shoulders, and you shift slightly, moving to see the bright light in the sky.
“First star of the night,” you murmur, blinking up at him slowly. “Look.”
He tilts his head, smiles, and remains in the same position, eyes peering at you as he turns his hand and brushes the back of his knuckles across your cheek; the shine of Venus gleaming behind him.
After a quiet car ride back through the fields, the girls all tired out after chasing each other around in the empty paddocks once May’s excitement of meeting the cows had worn off, Joel ushers all of you back into the house, his hand on the crown of Sarah’s head as he guides her down the hall towards her room.
“G’night, Mom,” May sighs, rubbing at her eyes with a loosely curled fist.
“You sure you don’t want some supper or something?”
“No, thank you, just wanna go to sleep,” she utters, eyes drooping.
“You want me to come tuck you in, help you get ready for bed and stuff?”
“I can do it, ‘s okay. Love you,” she says, hugging you around the waist.
“I love you, too, girly,” comes your reply, folding over and wrapping your arms around her. “You can always come and get me in the night if you want, okay? Goodnight,” you call after her when she pulls away.
“‘Kay, nighty night.”
As you begin to walk back to your room, you hear the soft lilt of Joel’s voice as he talks to Sarah. Even though you’re unable to make out exactly what he’s saying, the gentle tones floating down the hall soothe you, make you slip even further into a state of relaxation. After changing your clothes, slipping into an old Foo Fighters shirt with a pair of silk pyjama shorts, you cross the hall into the bathroom and begin the rest of your nighttime routine. A girlish laugh echoes down the hall followed by Joel’s deep chuckle, and you glance out while in the middle of brushing your teeth to see him standing in the threshold of Sarah’s room, one hand wrapped around the door handle.
“Goodnight, pumpkin. Love you so, so much,” he murmurs, blowing a kiss as he begins to close the door behind him, your gaze softening as you observe him. “Sleep tight.”
Slowly turning to knock on May’s door, Joel waits until she calls out before poking his head in. “It’s just Joel, honey. You all good in here? Need anything?”
The movement of your hand stops abruptly, toothbrush limply hanging from your mouth as you listen to the faint reply from your daughter.
“You want me to leave this lamp on for you? You know, I get a bit scared sometimes when I stay away from home and wake up in the middle of the night, all dark with everything being unfamiliar. It can be real confusing,” he says in a solemn tone. You don’t hear her response, but see Joel nod, the movement faint in the low glow of the hall light. “Absolutely, even me. I’ll leave it on then, how about that?”
Your heart clenches, listening to the way he gently speaks to her, so considerate and kind.
“You come straight to your mom or me if you need anything at all during the night, okay?” Another faint reply from May, and he smiles, knocking his knuckles against the door frame as he begins to step away. “Alright, goodnight, honey. Sweet dreams.”
He catches your gaze when he closes the door and begins to walk down the hall towards you, turning off the rest of the main lights as he goes, his broad figure approaching with every careful footstep. You blink and hastily turn away, and then he appears in the doorway of the bathroom—instead watching him behind you in the mirror as you mindlessly rinse the toothbrush under the tap. Sidling in behind you, his palm presses against the small of your back as he leans around you to pick up his own toothbrush, squeezing a line of toothpaste along the bristles.
“Girls are both cozy in bed, everything’s all good.”
You can feel his body heat behind you, his chest brushing up against the curves of your shoulder blades, and you try to take a steadying breath as he pushes slightly closer, a sly smile pulling at his lips. One hand moves to grasp your shoulder, a faint chuckle as he turns you toward him.
“C’mere,” Joel murmurs, the words spoken so close to your face as his thumb swipes along the side of your mouth, catching the residual toothpaste foam before pressing down lightly against the plush of your bottom lip.
Frozen, your mouth falls open slightly, the rough pad of his thumb dragging over your chin as he leans closer, noses almost touching. He smirks, all crinkly-eyed and teasing, breaths mingling, before pulling back and raising his eyebrows at you.
“Nice shirt,” he remarks casually, cocking his head, and the spell is broken.
You flounder for a moment, snapping your mouth shut and swallowing. “What?” you ask, looking at him dumbly. “You gonna be one of those people who ask me to name five songs or something, prove I’m really a fan?” you snark, placing your hands on your hips.
“No, but I was gonna ask your favourite song because I happen to like that band, too. Is that a problem?” he teases.
“Okay, well, in that case, I would probably say Generator.”
“Hm, not bad,” he muses, shrugging with a grin as he turns back to the mirror.
You chuckle, rubbing your eyes tiredly. “And on that note, I’m going to bed. Come say goodnight before you go.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
While plodding around in your room, rifling through your bags and starting to unpack, you hear Joel as he does his own nighttime routine, humming to himself—Generator, you realise. A smile tugs at your lips, something about the back and forth banter with Joel already making you feel so comfortable. You don’t think it will take long to fully settle in, and a part of you knows that by the end of this trip, you probably won’t want to leave. Leave the ranch or leave him, you’re not sure.
Standing with your back to the door while you put some folded up shirts into the set of drawers, there’s a faint knock on the inside of the door frame to get your attention.
“Alright, I’m off to bed now, too. You all good in here?” Joel asks, surveying the room and the suitcase which is wide open with clothes strewn everywhere, some folded on the bed neatly already.
“Yeah, sorry, I just started to unpack some stuff, then I was looking for something and I kind of made a mess.”
“No need to apologise, it’s your room for as long as you’re here, you do what you want with it,” he assures with an easy smile. “Actually, on second thought, that invitation to come back might be revoked if you leave the room lookin’ like this when you leave, I mean…”
“Yeah, yeah… whatever you say, Miller,” you snort out a laugh and wave him off, putting the final shirt in your hand into the drawer before closing it and fully turning towards him.
He bites his lip to stifle his grin, and you both share a knowing look, cheeks rounded and glowing with matching smiles.
“Hey, also, before I forget and before you go off to bed, I wanted to ask you what the plan is for tomorrow. What were you thinking we’d get up to?” you ask.
Stepping over the threshold and into the room, he makes a path towards you slowly. “I don’t have much planned out if I’m honest, I figured we’d just play it by ear, see what the girls are wantin’ to do. I will absolutely take May to see the horses though.”
You blink up at his broad figure as he stops in front of you. “Okay, that sounds good. What can I do to help in the morning, do you want me to make breakfast or something?”
Joel breathes out a long sigh, nostrils flaring a little as his eyes flit across your face contemplatively. “No, no, absolutely not, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his hands finding your arms as his palms brush up and down against your skin. “You can help me by doing absolutely nothing. In the morning, I expect you to stay in bed and have a well deserved rest.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I don’t want you doing anything in the morning except sleeping in, and that’s final, yeah? I’ll take the girls in the morning, don’t worry about a thing.”
“Joel,” you sigh, fiddling with your hands. “Are you sure I can’t—”
“Now what did I just say?”
Pursing your lips, you frown for a moment, guilt festing at the prospect of leaving everything up to Joel all morning. He makes a noise, low in the back of his throat, and lowers his head to catch your gaze, levelling you with a firm look. You sigh again, reluctant, but deep down grateful for the chance to rest.
“Okay,” you relent. “Thank you. But, please, wake me up if there are any issues, or if May needs anything—especially if May needs something, okay?”
Joel nods rapidly, assuring you with a look as he moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course, but we’ll be fine. No stressing, please.”
Agreeing quietly, you inhale a deep breath as Joel takes the final small step towards you, completely in your space now. He places his hand on the nape of your neck, and you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. Leaning in close, he presses his lips to your forehead, nose brushing against your hairline gently when he begins to shift back.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmurs, thumb trailing along your jaw as he steps away. “Sleep well.”
“Goodnight,” you whisper after him, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.
After a much needed and long overdue sleep-in followed by a slow, lazy morning around the house as Joel kept the girls entertained, you now find yourself in the stables. Noticing the strong scent of straw and dirt immediately, you’re distracted by Joel before you can take note of the rest of your surroundings. He grins at you as you step through the barn door, effortlessly carrying two large buckets of water over to one of the stalls to refill the trough. The muscles in his shoulders flex under the material of his shirt as he tips the liquid in, talking to the girls casually as he does it. Your eyes are drawn to the movement, the lines in his forearm.
“Mom? Mom?”
“Hm? What?” you ask, blinking down at your daughter dumbly.
“I was talking to you,” she grumbles.
“Sorry, sorry, what is it, honey?”
“Joel is gonna let me feed the horsey.”
You’re surprised at how calm she seems, a large part of you expecting her to be jumping out of her skin in pure excitement at the chance to meet, feed, and play with horses. Wishing to keep up the streak of good behaviour, you pitch your voice down and speak slowly.
“That’s fun, I bet the horsey will really enjoy that. You excited?”
“Um—”
“Alright, little lady, come on over here,” Joel exclaims, beckoning her over towards one of the horses.
The mare is beautiful—tall and lean, a fawn-coloured coat with white ankles, and a long golden mane.
“Hey there, girl,” he murmurs, lovingly brushing a hand down her nose. “This is Whiskey,” he intones with a soft smile, eyes sparkling as he looks at her.
Even though it’s subdued, being tamped down, you can sense an energy radiating off May. She flaps her hands by her side, bouncing on her heels as Sarah guides her forward with a warm smile. Like last night at the fence of the cow paddock, May leans as far over the side of the stall as possible, eyes wide and rounded curiously while Joel explains how to feed Whiskey. None of it is new to Sarah, but she is patient and even answers some of May’s questions.
May watches Joel intently, making sure she understands exactly what he’s saying, attention completely focused on his explanation. You can see the way the gears shift in her brain, trying to work everything out before she tries it herself.
“So, recap—you keep your palm flat, see? Fingers bent back a bit so the teeth don’t accidentally knick you, and you let her come to you,” Joel remarks. “You ready to give it a try?”
Hopping down from her perch over the stall, she steps towards the mare, and you see the exact moment pure nervousness overtakes. Registering it straight away, it clicks into place when you realise what you thought was good behaviour—unexpected quietness and acting reserved—is actually anxiety. She pulls on the hem of her shirt, looking back at you over her shoulder as her pace falters. She’s so little compared to the sheer size of Whiskey, and watching from behind the safety of a gate is different from having the mare tower over her. You feel yourself lurch forward towards her before you can stop yourself.
“May—”
Joel’s hand comes up to the crown of her head at the same time, guiding her closer but making sure he is between her and Whiskey. He shoots you a look, a gentle smile with a faint nod, mouthing a reassurance. The nerves are there, but his presence dulls them, smothers them a bit—something about his quiet confidence and caring nature that comforts you.
“I’ll give her another piece of apple, you can just stand here and watch up close, then if you’re ready you can try. That sound okay?” he questions, smoothing his palm over her hair reassuringly.
She nods, chewing on her lip, and you feel your hands twitch—a part of you wanting to hover next to her, keep your arms around her shoulder while she feeds the horse.
Leaning down to the small container by his feet, Joel picks up another apple slice, placing it flat on his palm and holding it out to Whiskey who takes it eagerly.
He smiles down at May, bending slightly so he’s closer to her level. “See? Easy as pie. Your turn?”
“Um, okay,” she replies softly.
Picking up another small piece of apple, Joel passes it to her, holding his own palm underneath hers and guiding her towards Whiskey. “She won’t hurt you, ‘s okay.”
Whiskey nudges her nose forward, gently taking the fruit and stepping back, munching on it happily. “Oh,” May whispers, and Joel hands her another slice. She holds her hand out a bit further this time, Whiskey carefully eating directly from her palm.
“That’s it.” Joel grins before turning to the mare and softly stroking her back, “Good girl, Whiskey, easy does it.”
Even with your own nerves, you can’t help but notice a stirring feeling within you, your heart swelling up inside your chest as you watch Joel interact with May. Every action is considered, kind, a sort of gentleness that you wish you could experience all the time.
May picks up another apple slice on her own this time, and Joel backs up towards you, watching with rapt attention as she gains more confidence. Sarah spurs her on, encouraging her with kind assurances.
“See, now look at her,” Joel whispers to you, leaning in close.
You chew your bottom lip, watching as May squirms when Whiskey’s teeth come a little too close to her hand by accident. It’s hard to fight your instincts, wanting to protect your daughter at all costs, even from the most minor of hurts, potential tiny mishaps that she would forget about five minutes later. Crossing your arms over your chest, you rock on your heels.
“I know, but—I just—”
“It’s fine, she’s fine, look,” Joel reassures, nodding towards her as she feeds Whiskey another piece.
“Okay, okay.”
He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your temple, lips brushing the skin and wisps of hair there as he speaks. “All fine, sweetheart. It’s all okay, yeah?”
The two of you watch her, with the calming brush of Joel’s hand on your hip soothing you. Sarah eventually joins May in the stall, picking up a small brush and running it along Whiskey’s back. The mare shifts on her feet, preening at the attention, a little satisfied whinny as her golden tail shifts back and forward. Sarah lets May brush her mane, and they both laugh happily when Whiskey leans into it, the big weight of her head nudging into May’s shoulder lovingly.
“Mommy, look!”
“I know, good job, girly. You’re so brave.”
She giggles, running a hand across the silky strands. Joel pats your hip, his thumb soothing in a little circle as he rests his chin on top of your head, and you burrow further into his side, something about the position feeling so natural and comfortable. He’s so big and broad, his body completely enveloping yours as you curl into him.
“Should’a seen her this morning with Sarah’s pony,” he murmurs into your ear, the slight scratch of his moustache felt against you.
Turning, you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him, noses nearly touching. “Yeah? Why?”
He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling, and your chest tightens at all the lines and freckles you can see from up close. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited, I thought she was going to vibrate out of her skin. It’s such a tiny little thing, you know, not like Whiskey here. I almost feel bad I made you sleep in and miss out on seeing it.” You pout, and he clicks his tongue, palm coming up to cradle your jaw. “Oh, no, none of that, sweetheart. You needed your rest. I’m real sure that she’ll have the exact same reaction the next time she sees it too.”
His thumb brushes your chin, and the touch makes your whole body spark, giddy nerves coming to life. Huffing out a laugh, you nod reluctantly. “I think that’s probably true.”
May giggles, buoyant and giddy, turning around with a flourish. “I did it, see? I fed her and brushed her and petted her! She looked a bit scary at first—I mean, she’s so big, like, what if she bit my hand off? But she didn’t, she was so nice! I think we’re friends now.”
Joel drops his hand from your face but tucks you even further into his side as he grins at May. “I think y’all are definitely friends now.”
His touch keeps finding you; a palm on the small of your back, a graze of his fingertips down your arm, a steadying hand on your shoulder. Each time, you burn for a moment, the thoughts in your head becoming all flustered and disjointed while you try to calm yourself down. Even though you welcome it—want it, even—the thought of crossing the line past that, this ambiguous thing between you, makes your stomach twist painfully. Even though he’s intentional, purposeful, you don’t know what he’s thinking, what it means for him.
Joel kept his arm slung around you all afternoon in the stable, and now, you plaster yourself to his side while the two of you make dinner—leaning into his broad frame, his arm curls around you and rests next to you on the countertop, caging you in. Even though you’ve both showered since being out with the animals, there’s still an earthy smell that clings to him; pine, salt and sweat. As you turn over your shoulder to glance up at him, the sinewy tendons in his neck catch your eye, and your mouth waters as you think about running your tongue up the expanse of his throat, burying your nose underneath his jaw and inhaling the musky scent that sticks to him.
The corner of his mouth lifts as he watches you, his other hand curled around the neck of a beer bottle as he brings it up towards him to take a sip. His lip dimples against the bottle, and his tongue darts out to catch the residual drops after he drinks, your grip on the ladle in your hand tightening.
The kitchen smells like freshly chopped basil and garlic, the aroma wafting through the room, the sprinkle of red pepper flakes you threw into the pot with the rest of the sauce now cooking out with the olive oil and butter.
Laying the ladle against the side of the pot, you spin in his hold, placing your hand flat against his sternum. Feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the steady thump of his heart, your fingers splay over the strong muscle there, nails raking back and forth softly and pulling a satisfied rumble from his throat. Your eyes bore into each other, blinking up at the deep brown of his irises as the hand on the counter comes to rest on the curve of your waist.
“Need to keep an eye on the sauce, sweetheart,” he murmurs with a playful frown, mock-serious, but his actions betray his words; the other hand places the beer bottle down before sweeping your hair behind your shoulder and tracing the line of your neck.
Joel presses into you, the towering height of him above you and the steadying, overwhelming weight of him. The door to the patio is open. The balmy night air creeps inside, combining with the heat from the stove and the warmth radiating from Joel—everything feels charged, thick and cloying, your eyes a little unfocused and frenzied as you watch him. Your pulse kicks up, sweat gathering at the base of your throat and behind your knees, something in you throbbing low and deep.
“It needs to simmer,” you whisper breathlessly, arching into him as your own hands fist into the material of his shirt.
He hums, his legs moving to cage you in, thumb drawing circles against your chin. It feels slow and deliberate, the way he moves against you, but as your breath comes out in laboured pants and something wet and hot pulls low in your gut, you feel desperate and frantic—his touches suddenly become a necessity, something vital.
Resting his forehead against yours, you can feel the heat of his breath as it fans across your face, the nervous twitch of his jaw catching your eye as his hand curls around the nape of your neck. His nose nudges against yours, and you loosen in his hold, going limp and soft as his hands pull you the last few inches forward.
“Joel,” you mewl, eyelashes fluttering and body nearly trembling, waiting for him to close the gap.
He inhales, closing his eyes, moving his hand from your waist to intertwine with yours against his chest. “I know.”
He squeezes your hand, thumb rubbing in soothing sweeps. Grabbing his self-control in his fist—a weak, fragile thing that he clutches desperately—he swallows down hard. Taking a reluctant half-step back, his hold on you loosening, he sighs. Joel presses a lingering, tender kiss to the crown of your head before finally pulling away completely, his hands clenching at his sides, blunt nails digging into his palms.
“Later,” he promises.
You’re feeling sleepy and satiated—after spending the afternoon in the summer heat, and now with a belly full after eating your dinner plus the second helping Joel lumped on your plate. The girls are in bed, and you’re on your third glass of wine, sitting in the armchair of the living room where Joel had deposited you after telling you to stay put while he tidied the kitchen.
He walks back into the room, another refill for you in one hand and a bottle of beer for him in the other. It’s dark, all the lights in the house now turned out except for the lamp in the corner that casts a glow over his features, making the tanned skin of his cheeks and neck flush golden.
Placing your new glass of wine on the coffee table, he settles back into the couch with an exhale, shoulders dropping in relaxation as he takes a sip from his bottle. His eyes find yours over the rim, and you watch his throat work while he swallows, the muscles in his jaw shifting. He holds your gaze as he pulls the bottle away, shifting further back into the couch and letting his legs fall open, and your eyes are then drawn to the wide spread of his thick jean-clad thighs.
His hand cups his chin, nails scratching against the greyed scruff on his jaw, the other hand holding the bottle against his knee. Joel clicks his tongue at you when he notices that your breathing has gone shallow, your eyes a little unfocused as you watch him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. There’s a small nod of his head, a knowing smirk, and he leans forward to place the bottle on the table, his shirt stretching against the rounded muscles of his shoulders.
Palms rubbing against the material of his jeans, he exhales, nostrils flaring as he considers his options. You can see him thinking, the way his eyes dart around the room as the gears turn, but his gaze always returns to you.
“Alright,” he sighs, a low murmur to himself.
Holding a hand out towards you, he motions to you with a wave of his fingers, nodding at you to come closer. Standing on unsteady legs, you hurry to cross the room, a small chuckle escaping him as he watches you. As you stop in front of him, he curls a hand around the back of your thigh, pulling you to stand in between his legs.
Squirming as he begins to lazily smooth his hand back and forward, goosebumps forming across your skin, Joel smirks at you.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, voice low and raspy, tugging you into his lap.
Immediately throwing your arms around his neck, your legs spread wide across his thighs with your knees bracketing his hips. He lets out a satisfied noise, rumbling from deep in his chest, as his palms coast up your legs and sides, the work-roughened skin making you shiver, before eventually resting on your waist.
“There you go,” he breathes.
His eyes are dark, darker than usual, and his jaw ticks as he settles you on his lap, looking up at you with heat in his gaze. Twisting one of his greying curls around your finger, you tug down on it, his deep grunt going right to the soft place between your thighs as he pulls you closer.
Eyelashes blinking down at him, dazed and gentle, your hand shifts to his jaw, thumb brushing against his beard, ghosting against his lips.
“Joel,” you coo, shoulders rounding forward as you lean down.
He’s holding back, his arms curling around your back as you shift on his lap—the thinly veiled restraint very quickly wearing. One hand cups the nape of your neck, cradling it in the entirety of his palm, and he tugs you even closer, pulls you until your forehead is resting against his.
The breaths that leave him are shaky, and he buries his nose into the soft skin of your neck, inhaling the fragrant scent of you that lives there—soap from your earlier shower; remnants of your perfume, blackcurrant and honey; the crisp essence of your white wine; and sweat, from the heat, from the alcohol, from him. He lays a kiss to the dewy skin, nose pressing into the juncture of your throat.
Sighing, he feels the movement of your chest, and you swallow, trying to calm down as you feel yourself throb and ache. It’s been simmering, building up for weeks, but now, having Joel under you, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted someone more.
“Joel,” you try again, barely a whisper, terrified to break the resolve.
“Shh,” he murmurs, moving his mouth up along your jaw until he gazes into your eyes, half-lidded and burning. “I know, baby,” he soothes, repeating his words from earlier in the kitchen.
“Then—” you start, squirming on his lap, skin heating and prickling with desire. “Please.” It’s a whimper, nearly a sob, eyes stinging with desperation for him to do something, anything. His gaze drops to your mouth.
He moves so quickly, hands cradling your jaw as he finally captures your bottom lip in a heady kiss, hungry and desperate. You whine, the sound high and keening, skin buzzing as a dizzy rush pours over you, sending a shiver down the curve of your spine. Meeting him in a messy kiss, sucking on his bottom lip and his tongue, you savour the hot glide of his mouth against yours.
Thumb pressing into the hinge of your jaw, he pries you open, licking into your mouth, a rough groan pulling from his throat when you nip at his bottom lip. His tongue slides against the line of your teeth, and you squeeze your knees against his hips, hands moving to fist into his hair.
He kisses you fervently, pawing at you while you shift on his lap, hips moving in little circles as you begin to feel slick sticking to the insides of your thighs. There’s so much affection in the way he holds your face in his broad palms, lips parting over yours with urgency, a year’s worth of desire spurring you both on.
His lips move to your neck again, wet and messy kisses left along your throat, his teeth nipping at your jaw.
“Wanted this—wanted you for so long,” he breathes out, humid breath skating against your skin.
“I’ve wanted you since—” you rush out, guiding his face back to yours. “Since last year, since I met you.”
You’re breathless as you bring his mouth back to yours, a satisfied sigh when you feel his tongue brush against your lips.
He pulls back reluctantly, brushing his nose against yours, leaning in to kiss you softly again, unable to resist. “I gotta do this right, baby. Won't do this when you've been drinking. Gotta treat you right, take care of you.”
“Joel…” you whisper, pressing your lips to his again.
“No, I know, baby. I want this too, but I gotta do right by you.” He holds your jaw, pinning you with his gaze, your eyes still unfocused and hazy, and he knows he’s doing the right thing. “Gonna take my time with you, spread you out, make you feel so good. Help you relax, like you deserve.”
You kiss him again, lips soft and unhurried, just to feel him—the heat lessening as your chest clenches at his words.
“Tomorrow,” he affirms, sealing it with another kiss.