Blissful by Clarissa Wild

Author:Clarissa Wild
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: love, farm, serial, short story, womens fiction, erotic romance, bbw, western, novella, wild west, farmer, sweet romance, singer, songwriter, rancher, curvy girl
Publisher: Clarissa Wild

Chapter 5

Jack

She really lit up when I called her beautiful. I can’t believe I actually said that. I feel like a stupid, clumsy jock again, stuttering in front of the high school beauty. Well, I did mean it when I said Amy was beautiful. I don’t understand why she thinks she’s not pretty. Most girls here would say she’s thin, maybe curvy, but not fat. Must be some city-girl problem or something.

Scratching my head, I take a deep breath and sigh. I can’t stop looking at her, even when she’s already gone from sight. The way she smiles makes me feel alive again, and all I want is to see that smile. Again and again. Her laugh drowns the memories I have, soothing the pain a little.

But I know I can’t see her smile forever. She’ll leave eventually. I can’t let it happen. I can’t bear to lose another. It’ll kill me before my time. I don’t want to take that chance.

Shaking my head, I turn and walk to the kitchen. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be thinking about this. I don’t have time for any of this bullshit. This never ending job doesn’t make room for anything else than work. As if I would need it.

I don’t need it. I don’t need anyone. Only Maddy.

Besides, it wouldn’t be good for her. She’s already lost someone, and I can’t bear to see her lose anyone else. I don’t want her to get attached to someone who’ll be ripped away from her any moment. She can’t handle that. She’s too young to understand anyway. Nope, not a good thing. Definitely not.

I walk to the living room and look at sweet little Madeline, curled up into a blanket I placed over her. Looking at her fades out the voices in my head, but the cracked picture lying on the floor brings them back.

Picking it up, I swipe away the broken glass and look at the beautiful woman staring back at me. What I’d give to touch her for real. To hold her with my own hands. Not like this. This cold, static image of hers is empty and hollow. Just like my heart.

Fuck me. I need something to drink.

I sigh again and go to the kitchen. Putting the picture down on the kitchen counter, I open the highest hanging cabinet, where I stash the pain relievers. The only thing I know to do when I feel like shit.

I snatch out a can of beer and take off the lid. It’s midnight, but I don’t care. I need a drink, now.

I put the can to my lips and let beer flow into my mouth. It prickles my taste buds and sets my throat on fire when I swallow. The sting is a welcome distraction. I’d do anything to forget. Just forget. Make everything go away.

I take another sip, and the alcohol runs over my lips. Drops fall onto the floor, but I don’t care. I need to empty this can as quickly as possible, so I can get rid of it.

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