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“Make me,” Archer shoots back.
Madeline laughs as Joshua tells his youngest son to move. But the boy is as stubborn as the day is long. I wasn’t around for the first seventeen years of his life, but I’ve heard the stories. Piper puts him in a headlock. Her brothers laugh at her attempts.
I walk over to the table, and Joshua glances up at me, his brows lifted like, “Whatcha gonna do?” I put one hand at the base of Piper’s back, and she stills, then leans into my touch. I reach around Archer’s shoulder and put my coffee mug next to the plate. Pie lets her brother go, backs away, and I yank out his chair. Drew and Brandt bust up. I hook my hands beneath Archer’s arms and lift.
“The lady asked you to move.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Archer wanders around the table to a different chair. He’s not put out and has a mischievous glint in his eye.
I guess we should’ve expected a bit of heckling from her brothers. And truthfully, I don’t mind. It’s such a fucking relief to be able to breathe around her again and not have to hide how I feel. To look at her without giving everything away.
Except, we obviously weren’t that good at hiding our feelings if her brothers had a bet going.
And as we settle in and fill our plates, the peach buzzing through my veins makes me feel light enough to fly. There’s the usual good-natured ribbing, the discussion of weekend plans, and a brief mention of a family vacation.
Beneath the table, Piper reaches for my hand. Fingers laced together, I press her hand against my thigh. This right here, this is what I wanted—to stop hiding and start living. I never knew I could be so thankful for some drunk’s elbow.
After breakfast, Piper tugs me outside into the crisp air. We make the long walk down to the horse barn. She waves to the ranch hands, always friendly.
When we enter the barn, she gives me a saucy look. “We survived.”
“We did.” I pull her to my side and kiss her upturned lips. Given how chill everyone was, I’m even more angry with myself for constantly putting distance between us. Maybe one day, I’ll stop hearing my dad’s voice in my head and stop trying to live up to his impossible expectations.
Her lips are soft beneath mine, and she smells of maple syrup and coffee. I slide my hands around her waist and back her up against one of the stalls. A soft neigh greets my ears, and Pie gives a sultry sign as she slides her hands up my chest and locks them around my neck. She presses her pelvis to mine with an eagerness that steals my breath.
I love this woman. And I have no idea how I got lucky enough for her to want me back, but if I have to keep her high and distracted on orgasms, so be it.
When we’re both breathless, I lift my head and stare down into the endless depths of her eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips puffy, and her bemused smile gives her cute little crinkles in all the right places.
“Remember when we helped Dad and the guys put away hay last year?” She lifts her gaze toward the bay loft above our heads.
“Mm-hmm.” I can’t help it. I need my lips on her. I need to feel her pulse and the softness of her skin to remind me that this is my new reality.
“I was so turned on that day. You were so tall and strong and rugged, and I kept wishing I could steal you away to the loft, away from everyone, and jump your bones.”
I glance down one side of the barn and then the other, my pulse picking up speed. “You can jump them now.”
After all, I haven’t tried to knock her up in at least two hours. From the moment her lips touched mine, a voice in the back of my mind has demanded I do exactly that.
She stares down the length of the aisle, past the half dozen equine heads gazing at us curiously. Then she worries her lower lip, and I’d bet my truck she’s thinking of our chances of getting caught. But it doesn’t really matter anymore. Soon the whole town will know she’s mine. Drew never could keep a secret.
She ducks beneath my arm and jogs toward the ladder at the far end. And though she got a head start, I’m hot on her heels, hands on her ass as she climbs. And fuck if that isn’t one of the best sights I’ve ever seen. This woman fills out her jeans perfectly, and I’m rock-hard by the time I make it to the top.
We tumble into a pile of hay, and I pull a piece from her hair.
We stare at each other for a beat, and I wonder if she’s also memorizing this moment. The feeling. The thick scent of dried hay. The tingle from the dust that makes you want to sneeze.
“That’s some bone you’ve got there, Mr. Dawson.”
I make a mental note to ask her where else she’s fantasized about making love to me. I want to make every one of them come true.
But for now, I slide my hand beneath her sweater and across her silky soft skin.
“All the better to fuck you with, honey.”
She lifts her head and presses her lips against mine, a needy whimper rolling up her throat.
“Then do it.”
