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For the first time, unsheathed, unrestrained, free to savor every twinge of my release.

“Libby Pierce—” Just the words snare another surge of cum out of me as she falls onto my chest. “—Ifucking love you.”

Chapter Thirty-six

Libby

I don’t know howhe does this. Every time I sit at this desk, I feel like I should be doing something else.

My eyes can’t stop drifting to the clock.

I hate it when he has to go on a job outside of cell service. It’s like fire ants are crawling under my skin knowing I can’t talk to him.

Being married for only a few weeks isn’t enough for me to get tired of him. There’re some days I wonder how I was able to ever sleep without him holding me.

It’s like an alternate universe that gets harder to remember with each passing day.

Except ones like today, where every second drags until I get the familiar chime on my phone telling me he’s back in range.

Damn Montana and its shitty cell reception.

And I really need to talk to him.

This doesn’t look right.

I flip the pages back and forth, double checking the production numbers for the last few days.

Why is there a marked drop?

Too antsy to wait, I work my way down to the milk parlor.

“Darla? I have a weird discrepancy in numbers. Do you think we could do a tag verification run tonight? I wonder if some of the girls are skipping rounds.” It wouldn’t be the first time a batch of cows gets shuffled with the wrong group and then skipped in rotation.

Every now and then isn’t a huge deal. Too often though, we can risk mastitis and long term lack of volume.

She nods, the long brown braid in the middle of her back weaving over her hips. “I haven’t noticed, but will let Jeb know.”

They’re a dynamic duo. I wish there were more husband and wife teams that wanted to live in the boonies and milk cows.

Well, I suppose I’m part of a husband and wife team now too.

I still haven’t gotten used to seeing the ring on my finger. It gives me a thrill each time though, a shiny reminder of the man I love more with each passing day.

So much it almost makes me want to cry.

“Hey, you okay?” Darla stops, her brows knitting as she looks at me.

“Sorry. It’s dumb. Just missing Blue.” I wave my hand idly, then turn on my heel.

But I catch her eye roll before I do. “He’s been at work for four hours. I’m sure you’ll survive.” She’s still laughing when I push through the double steel doors.

Maybe after I’ve been married as long as her I’ll think it’s silly.

I’m not there yet.

Thankfully, he keeps the little fridge stocked, including one of those fruity wine coolers.

By the third swallow, it isn’t sitting right as I stare at the discrepancies on the computer.