What color are your panties?
Wren
I’m not wearing any panties.
Hank
Fuuck.
Wren
What’s the matter, Hayes?
Hank
Besides sitting with a boner between an eighty-year-old potato farmer and my father?
4:00pm
Hank
Heading to dinner. Should we try FaceTime again later?
Wren
Of course.
Hank
What about those panties?
Wren
Front pocket of your duffel bag.
Hank
Did you put panties in my bag?
Wren
The red ones you like so much.
Hank
Damn. You’re good.
Wren
I know.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
hank
It’s beentwo long days since I’ve held my girl. We were finally able to get a Wi-Fi connection, and after that insanely hot FaceTime, in which I fucked myself stupid with her panties wrapped around my cock while she watched, I couldn’t wait to get inside her. As much as I love ranching and all that goes with it, I miss Wrenley. She’s quickly become the center of my life.
The rain is incessant as I drive the close to two hundred fifty miles back to Timber Forge. Pop is itching to get home after sleeping in a hotel bed that hasn’t done anything to help his back, and I’m ready to be back with Wren.
