So making my way to my truck, I shake my head furiously. She came back, and that has to mean something. I know the female’s hurt, but hurt and rage are the flip side of love. All I need to do is prove my adoration and loyalty.
Suddenly, an idea strikes. Fumbling through my glove box I finally find what I’m searching for before striding back to the house. Fuck me, but where is she? The kitchen’s quiet, the lamps in the living room dim. But I know she’s here. There’s a sweet perfume in the air, her unmistakable musk.
Bolting up the stairs, I bang down the door to the guest bedroom, ready to shout her head off. But the sight of the female stops me. Maisie’s dressed in a sheer pink thing, something that I picked out for her a long ago. Before, she was a goddess, beautiful and enticing. But now, the lacy outfit is deadly seductive because heavily pregnant, her tits are huge, straining the fabric, and her stomach protrudes, lifting the hem up so that I can see tiny pink panties underneath. Oh shit, oh shit. My crotch goes hard, pole poking stiffly.
“Here,” I grunt like an animal, unable to drag my eyes from the vee between her thighs. “Take it.”
A small hand reaches for the envelope.
“What is this?” she asks, turning it over in her hands. But I can’t answer, captivated by that heady female succulence, the big tits and steamy cunt. Fuck, I can feel the heat from her pussy from five feet away, that cavern beckoning to my dick.
But Maisie’s not having it.
“Tyler, what is this?” she repeats louder, eyebrows drawn.
I jerk back to attention.
“The harvest proceeds,” I manage to get out. “I set it aside for you.”
Slowly, she opens the envelope, gasping as the contents come into sight. Oh yeah, it’s stacks of bills, greenbacks galore, rubber banded and held together tightly.
“I saved it for you,” is my agonized whisper, hands clenching by my sides, aching to touch her. “It’s all yours.”
Maisie takes a deep breath.
“Thank you,” she says slowly. “I’ll use the money to pay some of my outstanding bills. I think I owe the electric company something, as well as the vet over in town. He treated Betsy without charging me, putting it all on credit. I imagine he’ll be happy to finally get something for his services.”
But I interrupt then, voice rough.
“I paid off everything, baby. You have no outstanding bills anymore. You don’t owe nobody nothin’.”
Her indrawn gasp is music to my ears.
“Tyler,” she breathes, and I feel like the luckiest man in the world as my name falls from the lips of an angel.
I shake my head roughly again.
“Look, I know it’s nothing in comparison to what I did, and I know you’ll never be able to forget what happened. But I swear,” comes my raspy voice. “Everything I felt for you was real, Maisie. Every single thing.”
She shakes her head slowly, not looking in my eyes.
“But how do I believe that Tyler? I mean, everything you’ve told me so far is based on lies.”
I shake my head furiously then.
“Not everything,” I rasp urgently. “Not everything. Sure, I made up that ranch hand stuff, but a lot of other things are real. My love for the land. I love this land, I love farming and ranching. I love the sky, the wind, the goddamn heat in summer. I love the winter even, when the ground won’t sprout a thing. All of that is true.”
But Maisie’s not having it, turning her face away again.
Oh shit. I have to step up my game. She’s not listening, and panic swells in my chest.
“Maisie,” I say roughly. “My feelings towards you were always real. Every time I touched your body, every kiss, every stroke, every caress, that was all real. You have to believe me.”
Taking a deep breath, I continue.
“Yes, my brothers wanted me to steal your property. They wanted me to take the deed to your home, but I haven’t. I’ve been here, but I haven’t taken anything, not legally.”
She turned wide eyes to me then, lips trembling softly.
“You haven’t?”
My head shakes furiously again.
“Naw honey. I can’t just walk in and say, “This is all mine because she’s my wife.” The law won’t allow it, we’re not in the Dark Ages anymore. My brothers were planning something else. They figured that by marrying you, the game would change. I’d make you fall in love, and then you’d sign away your property rights. But I haven’t,” I added roughly. “And I won’t. You won’t ever have to sign anything to me. This is all yours,” I say, arms outstretched. “Forever.”
Maisie takes a deep breath then.
“I wasn’t sure how land rights worked,” she says softly. “I thought for some reason, my stuff automatically became yours. At least fifty percent.”