Reuniting with the Rancher (Silver Creek Ranch)

9. Songbird

9

SONGBIRD

GREYSON

Lily disappeared into the outdoor shower near her cottage, her hair and clothes caked in mud.

The look on her face when bench collapsed was priceless, but the look on her face, the pride, when they finished it together? Angelic.

He remembered that face. He was starting to remember a lot of things.

As the water began to run, he leaned back against the porch railing, still smiling to himself. The humor of the situation had done something to ease the tension between them. Maybe it was the absurdity of it all, or maybe it was something deeper—something he wasn’t ready to admit yet.

Suddenly, a loud scream cut through the night air.

Without a second thought, Greyson bolted to the shower, heart pounding as he yanked open the door. “Lily!”

She was naked under the cold spray, her eyes wide in shock, hands frantically trying to turn off the water. “It’s freezing! I tried to turn it off, but the tap?—”

He saw it immediately: the handle had snapped off in her hands. Water sprayed everywhere, and before he could think, he was under the shower with her trying to control the flood. His clothing was soaked, sticking to his skin as icy water drenched them both.

“Damn it,” he muttered, maneuvering his body to block the spray as best he could. His back took the brunt of the freezing water while he fumbled with the emergency shutoff valve.

Lily laughed through her teeth chattering, watching him fight the spray like it was a battle in itself. “If I-I-I didn’t know better, I’d think you were s-s-setting me up,” she quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “The bench and now this-s-s-s…”

Greyson finally managed to shut the water off, the sudden silence very loud. He turned to her, dripping wet and breathless. Very aware of the naked woman in front of him. “I wouldn’t hurt you, Songbird.”

She froze, the playful smirk slipping from her face as his old nickname for her fell from his lips as if he’d never stopped saying it. His heart ached at the sound of it and he could tell it affected her too. Her voice was quieter when she responded, her eyes meeting his. “But you did, Greyson.”

His face paled as the weight of her words settled between them. He took a step closer, shaking his head slowly. “I didn’t know, Bird. I loved you so darlin’… And I was grateful for every moment near you and understood I didn’t deserve it. When I thought you left…” His voice cracked, the regret so raw in his tone that it sent a shiver down her spine.

He grabbed the towel hanging nearby and gently wrapped it around her trembling shoulders, his hands lingering as he rubbed her arms, trying to stop the shivering. He touched her gently, afraid she’d break under his big, clumsy hands.

The space between them was electric, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. His dark eyes searched hers, and there was no anger—only the sharp relief of pain and a hint of wonder.

“I thought I was throwin’throwin’ rocks at the sun..” he started, but the words hung in the air unfinished.

She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as his hands slid up to cup her face, his thumb brushing away a droplet of water from her cheek. Her heart strummed beneath her arm as the silence stretched between them, unspoken words heavy in the air. He held himself back for moments that stretched for forever until she tipped her face up to him in permission, in askance, in submission.

And he closed the distance.

His lips pressed against hers, soft and searching, tentative at first, as he refamiliarized himself with her taste. Then she kissed him back and something inside them broke free.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was pain and missed moments. Darkness and contrition. It was an apology, a confession, a moment long overdue.

For a few moments, the world fell away. There was no ranch, no trauma, no mistakes of their past—only the feeling of her wrapped in his arms. Her softness pressing against him, making him feel alive again.

Whole again.

After long breathless moments they broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other, reality sinking in.

“Grey…” she whispered, “We can’t.”

She unbuttoned buttons of his shirt. “Things are too complicated.”

He reached out, slid the lock on the door, and returned to gripping her at the waist and hip, kneading the soft, ample flesh as a satisfied groan escaped his throat. He’d missed the lushness of her.

“Complicated,” he echoed as Lily kissed his neck and his skin - both healing and undamaged - as she pulled back his shirt.

“We have to be responsible,” she whispered.

“We will,” he whispered into her neck as he lifted her leg at the thigh and rested her foot on the little stool off to the side, opening her to him. Holding her firm he captured her mouth again and reached for her wet washcloth on the hook breaking the kiss only long enough to thoroughly wipe his face.

“Hold your pussy open for me Songbird,” he said quietly into her ear, aware of how close they were to the cottage. “My hands are filthy.”

“So is your mouth,” she panted.

“If I remember correctly, you like that.” He grinned against her throat as she did what she was told. He collapsed to his knees in prayer to her temple as she invited him to worship her.

“Keep her just like that,” he moaned into her wetness and began to drag his tongue through her pussy and over her clit. A small thunk accompanied her head falling back against the wall of the tiny shower. They were wedged in there tight with barely enough room to breathe let alone fuck, but who needed breathin’ when he had his Songbird swirling her hips against his face?

He held her hips to him when she started to scoot away, the sensations taking over her body, her quiet gasps spurring him on as he sucked on her clit. Her first orgasm hit her hard and he was rewarded with a rush of her desire that he eagerly lapped up. She made him ravenous. Her smell, the sight of her open for him, the softness of her thighs… He turned and placed a tight little bite on the nearest and she squeaked then moaned as he soothed the bite with ministrations of his tongue. As she came down from her orgasm she let go of herself.

“Hands back on the pussy Songbird,” he growled into her thigh.

“But–”

He nipped her thigh again. And she squeaked again before obeying.

“Good girl.”

He grinned as a fresh waterfall of her accompanied his praise and he made sure not to waste a single drop. She made him feel ten feet tall with her soft “Yes baby,” “Please baby,” and “Grey baby, yes.”

He’d feasted so long his knees were screaming, but he’d handled worse with much less reward and he determined he would lick, suck and tongue fuck his little songbird until she begged him to stop.

Which she did, eventually. She was shaking and limp by the time he placed soft kisses on her hands on her mound, on her pussy itself, on the inner thigh, then her hip of her leg, as he lowered it. He kissed the hip of her injured leg noting the scarring running the length. Some looked surgical, others looks like skin had been ripped away in chunks and filled back in and his heart hurt for her all over again.

He kissed his way up her leg, over every scar he found, back to her hip, across her soft, rounded stomach, up and across her chest… his bad arm shook with the effort it took to raise himself up and support her, but he was determined to take the time needed to properly care for her.

He ended his ministrations lingering at her mouth. “Can you walk?”

She searched his eyes before nodding.

“Then let’s get you in the house so you can properly clean up.”

“Grey…” Her eyes dropped to his mouth and back to his eyes. “I don’t– We never brought men around Caleb, not since that article about the threesome came out and this is–”

“Complicated. I know Songbird. I just want to make sure you’re taken care of, not angling for a sleepover.”

“Oh.”

He grabbed her ass with both his hands and pulled her tight to him. “Just a note sweetheart - never bring up another man while I still have the scent of you in my lungs and the taste of you on my tongue.”

“One was a woman,” she whispered, a wicked little smile on her face.

“Lily,” he growled low against her mouth. “Go get cleaned up. Now.”

LILY

She came out of sleep with the sense someone was watching her again.

She opened her eyes slowly and took in his bulky frame sitting in the chair by the window. He wanted her to see him and unlike the first time he let himself in the room, she had no desire to break his nose.

“Can’t sleep?”

“I’m starving.”

She was fully awake then. “Dude, did you really break into my room looking for a meal? I don’t even cook like that. Of all shit for a sexy ass Marine to say.”

“Invite me to bed Songbird,” Grey rumbled from his seat.

Oh…Be strong Lily.

“This is a bad idea Grey.”

“It’s a completely fucked up idea, Bird. We’ll talk about it in therapy tomorrow. Now, invite me to bed so I can eat.”

Call her an impetuous, wanton slut puppy - and she was, proudly - but she’d never been able to resist Grey when he used that tone. And the way he’d kissed her scars…

Whew.

She would regret this, they both would… but for now… She threw back the covers and slipped off her bonnet and tucked it under her pillow. Pulling her oversized t-shirt off, she let him see all of her again by the soft moonlight. How she’d changed, how she’d stayed the same, her lumps, dimples and rolls. Everything.

It hadn’t been easy to be a plus sized performer in this world but she’d taken society’s arrows and made herself stronger. Her insecurities rested in the damaged parts of her, not the fat parts. And he devoured her with his eyes much like he would definitely do with his mouth again.

“Come to bed, baby.”

Grey rose from the chair and she felt like prey. He stalked toward her and any thoughts she had about not feeling his powerful body against her died in the fire of her lust.

The man had always been gorgeous, but seeing him like this, in the way his time in the Marines and on the ranch changed him? Bigger, rougher, more…majestic.

He pulled off his shirt, toed off his shoes as he slid his joggers down over his hips and his manhood bobbed at attention. The shape was slightly different than she remembered.

He’d been burned there as well. Jesus.

“Don’t pity me,” he growled.

His accusation hurt. Didn’t he know she would never…

“Why would I, should I pity you?” She gestured down her body at the patchwork of scaring and reconstruction. “You survived and all of you is beautiful. Grey…come…”

He hesitated only a moment more before sliding in next to her and claiming her mouth, sliding her injured leg over his hip and resting himself up against her. He ran a gentle, possessive hand over top of her scars and everywhere he touched sent sparks and activated damaged nerves in a different way. It wasn’t long before she was reaching between them eager to feel him inside of her.

He stilled her hand. “Gentle. I’m more sensitive now. And I’ve been tested. I’ve never been without protection with anyone, but you Songbird.”

She nodded and softened her touch. “Same,” she whispered. When his eyes went wide in surprise, she rolled hers in response. “Ninety percent of LaLa Fair stories are just that. The other ten percent are, well… a woman can have a healthy sex life and be responsible at the same time Grey–Oh God babeeee…”

He entered her and dipped his head to capture a nipple in his mouth, cutting her off mid mini rant. The sensation of him slowly long stroking her mixed with the emotions of her heart created a combustible concoction that she knew right then would destroy her in the long run.

“I told you ‘bout talking about other men when I smell like you, I’m gonna have to fuck you until you remember I don’t want to hear that shit darlin’.”

And he did. Fuck yeah he did…

Grey was deliberate in his strokes, careful to angle himself so he’d have maximum contact with her clit, bringing her to heights again and again.

Because of his sensitivity, he had to get creative with extending his…efforts.

And it was fucking fantastic.

Rather than throwing off the rhythm, he teased and caressed, licked and sucked more. He paid more attention to her erogenous zones rather than relying on dicking her down.

He coo’d beautiful words she missed hearing.

He gripped her tummy, plumping it, and nipping at it before diving back into her heat.

He was starving and later, as she took him into the back her mouth, she understood because she ravenous. Ravenous for everything that was Grey.

Before she finally drifted off to sleep, he cleaned her with such care, and set up her pillows to support her leg she had to bite her lip to keep from showing what his care meant to her.

Throwing the covers over the both of them, Grey set his alarm for an hour. Plenty of time to leave before Caleb woke, but in her heart of hearts she didn’t want him to leave.

This was such a bad fucking idea.

Lily watched from the porch as Greyson sat on the ground with Caleb under the shade of a large, old tree. It was early morning, and the ranch hummed with activity. Caleb adjusted the strings on a couple of the guitars she brought for student use. She was in the middle of careful preparations for the students’ arrival, and the nervous mental chaos of trying to prepare to meet her daughter, but something about this moment made her pause.

Lily thought they were just talking about the ranch, but then she heard Caleb quietly ask, “Did you know my mom? What was she like back then?” and her chest tightened.

Marigold is…was… the light of her life, her sister, her best friend. Caleb rarely asked about her directly, preferring to keep his feelings locked away, or disclosed, she guessed, to his therapist. This interaction felt different. She hadn’t expected him to reach out to Grey of all people.

Greyson shifted in the dirt, his expression softening as he looked at Caleb. “Yeah, buddy. I knew your mom well. We all went to school together.”

Lily leaned against the wooden railing, reminding herself to breathe deeply as she watched them. Greyson’s voice was low and calm, steadying Caleb.

“Your mom was… she was brilliant, kid. Smartest person in the room, no matter where she went. She had a brain for numbers that I’d never seen before. Where Lily and I struggled with our maths, for her it was a game. She sang all the time just like Lily. And I know you know, their voices together? Magic. She never got jealous like some siblings would have when your aunt performed. Music was more… personal for her. To be enjoyed and shared just with those who mattered.”

Grey tapped his hand against his leg. “I missed her friendship a lot over the years. She was honest, exceptionally kind, and the best thing about her? How much she loved you. She read to her tummy, to you, all the time. She even put headphones on her belly so you could hear all the best music. Classical for sure, but also jazz, rock, hip hop, international… She lived for you.”

Caleb blinked up at Greyson. “Did she ever talk about my dad?” His voice wavered, a little crack of vulnerability slipping through.

Lily stiffened. Caleb had never asked her about his father—not like this. Marigold was always honest with him, explaining that his father was someone who couldn’t handle responsibility, who hadn’t wanted to be a part of their lives. She never hid the truth, so Lily was surprised to hear Caleb express curiosity now.

Greyson hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly. He glanced briefly toward her, sensing her presence and she straightened, her body tensing with anticipation of needing to step in.

“Your dad…” Greyson started slowly, his voice taking on a harder edge. “He wasn’t a good man, Caleb. He wasn’t someone who deserved your mom or you. He hurt her in ways that weren’t fair.”

Caleb frowned. “Why didn’t he want us?”

Greyson’s eyes softened again. “That was his failure. Not yours, and not your mom’s. She deserved better, the best kind of love and so do you.” He paused, glancing over at Lily for a moment before continuing, his tone darker. “And I made sure he knew that.”

Lily’s stomach flipped. She stepped down from the porch, crossing over to them. “What do you mean?”

Grey didn’t look at her at first, keeping his focus on Caleb. “He was making things hard on her… So I made sure he wasn’t a problem for the family anymore.”

Caleb tilted his head, cautious curiosity in his eyes. “What did you do?”

Lily’s twisted her ring, for some reason unable to take it off. There had been rumors, whispers of something happening with Marigold’s professor, but her sister never confirmed it.

Greyson finally looked up at Lily, his eyes clouded with a mix of guilt and something she hadn’t seen before—a hardened fierceness. “I whupped his ass, Songbird,” he said quietly. “The shit he was saying to her, fucking with her classes… I couldn’t watch him hurt her anymore, so I made sure he couldn’t.”

Lily blinked, wrapping her mind around what he confessed. She never knew. She hadn’t realized just how far Greyson had gone to protect her sister, nor what she dealt with it. It was something Marigold kept to herself and, in fact, took to her grave.

Lily’s heart swelled, a warmth growing inside her as she watched Greyson with her nephew. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected to feel anything other than the old resentment she’d carried toward him. But seeing him here, like this, caring for Caleb in ways she hadn’t known he was capable of, gave her insight to the kind of father he must be to Ivy. She’d missed out on seeing that growth in him, but Ivy hadn’t and damn, she was grateful for it.

“He never bothered her again after that,” Greyson continued, turning back to Caleb. “Your mom was strong, buddy. She didn’t let him stop her from living her life or loving you.”

Caleb stared down at the ground, silent for a moment. “She was really smart. When Auntie Lily toured, she always took us with her and Mom was my homeschool teacher. She knew everything. Every city there was some lesson or tour and Auntie always made sure we got to see the stuff other people didn’t see. Like personal tours of Stradivarius violin vaults.”

“My daughter has been in some of the best boarding schools in the country,” Greyson said softly. “And I would’ve sent her to study with your mom in a heartbeat. She almost always treated me well.”

“Almost?”

“Well, there was the time I said I had four books and a possible in Spades and barely got two…”

Lily barked out a loud laugh at that. She remembered. They lost first round of the Spades tournament in grad school and Mari was so mad she dogged Grey for two weeks. Lily stayed out of it. Mari already knew Lily’s brain was music, history, the arts - not cards.

“And the other time?” she asked smiling, thinking he would talk about the time he ate a whole pan of brownies a eight month pregnant Mari made to satisfy a craving. Exhausted by the effort, Mari fell asleep and when she woke, Grey was shaking crumbs from the pan into his mouth while watching car races.

“When she learned I hurt you. She took my call once, said I was a hypocrite, and hung up. It makes a lot more sense now.”

Lily nodded, her throat tight. She sat next to Caleb, who rested his head on her shoulder.

“I think she would’ve loved that Auntie Lily broke your nose.”

Their laughter together carried on the wind across the flatlands of the ranch. It sounded a lot like new beginnings.