My ring catches my eyes, sparkling where it’s resting on my stomach. I still startle every time I see it even though it’s been six months. My parents and Trevor keep asking when’s the big day, but what they don’t understand is that Harlan and I couldn’t be more committed to each other than we already are. Don’t get me wrong, the wedding day will come. And it will be spectacular. When I’m not working on my writing and making plans for the baby’s nursery, I’m leafing through wedding magazines and planning the wedding of my dreams. But I don’t feel the need to rush. I want to enjoy these days on the ranch. Getting cozy in my new home. Focusing on my writing. Lazily daydreaming out here on the porch about a little boy who will one day be running barefoot in the dirt, trying to keep up with his daddy mending fences.
I squint out to the main road and see the tail ends of the trailers driving west. Finally, some privacy. I walk around the side of the house, wriggling out of my shorts and panties, stripping off my sticky and sweaty tank top, and head to the outdoor shower Harlan insisted we build. It’s nothing like the original shower with its flimsy shower curtain and barely standing walls. Harlan built this part of the house himself. The walls are beautiful deep red cedar, and the shower door is made of smoky glass. I’d try to insist on a real door, but Harlan wondered what would be the fun in that? At least this way he gets to watch my naked silhouette when I shower. Some things never change! I turn on the water and let it run over my body, marveling at the new contour of my tummy, the deeper shade of pink in my nipples, and the extra cup size of my breasts. I snake my hand down between my legs and wonder when Harlan will be home. As usual, just the thought of him has me slick, but I don’t dare touch myself. Harlan and I made a promise.
Tires crunch on gravel coming up the road to our house, so I guess I have my answer. I quickly turn off the shower and wrap myself in my robe to greet him at his truck. It’s a little hard to skip down the driveway in my flipflops, but I can’t help it. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him. He was in the city for the past few days interviewing and hiring staff. In fact, it’s the longest we’ve been separated for nine months, and we made a promise. We may not have waited for our wedding night to sleep together, but Harlan gave me strict orders: no coming while he was away. He said he wanted me desperate and begging by the time he came back. And I am. The combination of the hormones surging through me and the time away from Harlan have kept my mind occupied on a single thought these past few days: sex.
“Hey now, slow down!” he yells at me as he climbs out of his truck. “Not only will you give me a heart attack if you trip, I don’t want to spend a second bandaging you up before I take you upstairs to bed.”
I laugh, but I don’t slow down, throwing myself into his arms and breathing in his scent deeply. God, I’ve missed this man.
His arms are tight around me, and he nestles his face in my neck kissing me there, and up my jaw, before finally planting a deep kiss on my mouth, showing me just how much he really has missed me. For emphasis he grabs my ass, pulling me closer to him, and I instantly feel how hard he is through my robe and his jeans. I reach down and rub my hand up and down his erection.
“So,” I deadpan, “I’m guessing you want to unpack first thing?”
“Not on your life,” he says, with no hint of humor. His eyes are dead serious and full of lust. He reaches back into the truck and brings out a small box. Pie.
We walk up the steps of the front porch arm and arm. Harlan puts the pie in the kitchen before coming back to me.
“So tell me,” he says, tracing a finger over my collarbone and dragging down the shoulder of my robe until it opens up, exposing a single breast, “what have you been doing while I’ve been away?”
His touch, after all these days apart, is electrifying, and I can hardly form words to answer him.
“A little of this, a little of that,” I say playfully, distracted by his fingers now running down my stomach and stopping just above my pussy.
“But Mel,” he whispers, “do you promise you haven’t been doing any of this?”