"Unleash your creativity and unlock your potential with MsgBrains.Com - the innovative platform for nurturing your intellect." » » Rancher's Snowed-In Reunion by Maisey Yates🌞🌞

Add to favorite Rancher's Snowed-In Reunion by Maisey Yates🌞🌞

Select the language in which you want the text you are reading to be translated, then select the words you don't know with the cursor to get the translation above the selected word!




Go to page:
Text Size:

The morning show bit was short, and they didn’t fly her out or anything; she just did an on-camera interview over the computer.

And when she asked the local bar that night if she could play, it was a resounding yes, and what she couldn’t believe was how the place packed out. For her.

And Flint sat in the front row, watching her, the pride on his face doing something to her insides.

When they got back to the house, he kissed her. Rough and intense, and she let herself get caught up in it. Let him hold her close. Tear her clothes off of her. He lowered her down onto the bed, and their need for each other was a whole tornado. He was inside of her before she could think, and even though it was fast and furious, she came twice, dizzy in the aftermath.

He kissed her throat, her jaw. “You’re amazing,” he said.

And she just felt it. Welling up inside of her. The need to say it. The need to think it. To really get it out there. “I love you.”

His withdrawal was immediate, and she felt horrified. How had she said that; how would she even let herself feel it? That wasn’t what this was supposed to be. And she knew it.

It was a fling. It was supposed to be a fling. And yes, she had started to fantasize about it being more. Of course she had. But... But she wasn’t going to tell him like this. She was going to... She was going to feel out how long he could see this going. She was going to do it differently. That was all.

“Forget I said anything,” she said.

“Tansey, I’m not sure that I can.”

He looked grave. He sounded even graver.

“You have to,” she said. “I know... I know that’s not what this is.”

“Do you?” he asked seriously.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I...”

“Because if you can’t...”

“I’m not done yet,” she said. “Are you?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not done.”

“Good. Then we don’t have to talk about this. You can forget I said it. It was... You know. Post-sex euphoria, or whatever.”

“I need you to listen to me. I can’t give you that. I can’t give it to anybody. Don’t take it personally.”

“No, I know. I... I listened to you. I did.”

But she couldn’t ignore the fluttering of her heart. The vague hope there.

She just felt like... She felt like maybe there wouldn’t be grand declarations or anything like that, but like they might settle into something that was a little bit more long-term. That was all she wanted. Just a little longer.

She didn’t need for him to love her.

And she didn’t need to say anything like that again.

She didn’t.

She just wasn’t ready for it to end.

And she would do whatever she had to do to keep him with her. For now. She would do whatever she needed to for now.

A week later, she realized that her period hadn’t started when it should have. And she had no idea what to do. She was usually pretty regular, and she knew full well that they’d had unprotected sex the night of the open mic.

She wasn’t stupid. If you spent your whole life not having sex, and having regular periods, then you started having sex and the period didn’t come...

She knew what that meant.

She was terrified. Trembling. But she couldn’t risk going out and buying a pregnancy test. People were already starting to take pictures of them. There were weird rumors online, a lot of speculation about her personal life. People treated her like she was a fictional character. There were so many stories about who her dad was, and what he had done, and it was like what she shared about herself had taken on a life of its own.

And if anybody took a picture of her buying a pregnancy test... How did actually famous people handle that? She had one song, and was having some kind of a moment on the internet. She didn’t know how anybody stood this for years on end.

But before she did any of that, she would tell him. Tell him what she suspected. Because she wanted to have a deeper conversation with him about...about the fact that this wasn’t a fling anymore. That much was clear. It had become something so much deeper. So much more serious. They actually talked. They shared things. And really, it had always been wrong to call it a fling.

They had been friends first. And it mattered.

A baby.

She wasn’t ready for this. And she was afraid. What if he rejected her? What if he rejected the baby?

This is why you can’t depend on anyone else.

No. Because she was shaking. Because it felt like he held her life, her future in his hands.

It was horrible.

She walked downstairs, into the kitchen, where he was preparing dinner. It felt domestic. They felt domestic. They felt like something special and perfect.

Except for... Except for all the walls. He had told her about those walls from the beginning.

To see what he says, you have to tell him. You can’t keep it a secret.

“I need to talk to you.”

“We talk all the time,” he said. “Does it require an announcement.”

“This might,” she said. “I’m late.”

She looked at him, full of meaning. And waited for him to get it. She watched as about ten emotions cycled over his face. More than she had maybe ever seen him express in their time together.

“Well... You need to find out.”

“I’m just... I don’t know how. I’m afraid of what will happen if I go to a store here. Because people know that we are here. You saw that stuff pop up online. It’s... It’s a little bit unnerving.”

“You need to find out,” he said, his voice hard.

“I know,” she said. “I will, Flint. I promise... And...”

Are sens