Page 175 of Anton

Cider makes a low sound, and I laugh as I cross the paddock toward Sugar.

Life has been better these last couple of weeks. Not perfect, but better. I’ve learned how to live with the truth of where I came from, and having my family welcome Anton so openly has helped mend a bridge I wasn’t sure we could ever fully repair.

Some days, the pain still sneaks up on me, reminding me of everything I lost and how badly I wish Drew had been different. But Anton has been there through all of it, holding me through the worst parts without needing to say much. I’ve never felt this safe.

Sugar pushes into me a little too eagerly, and Slava, my newest shadow—a.k.a. the bodyguard my future husband insisted on—jumps to his feet as though he’s ready to fight the poor horse.

“It’s okay, Slava.” I hold up a hand. “She’s not going to hurt me.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Boss would kill me if she did.”

“Yes, well, the boss worries too much.”

Slava remains tense, but says nothing else, standing inside the paddock with a gun hidden under his jacket.

My parents didn’t even bother pretending to object when Anton assigned him to me. Daddy has wanted guards on me for years, and Anton handing him the perfect excuse only made them like him more.

Mama might love him most of all. She cooks for him every time we visit them in Texas, piling food onto his plate while he sits there and lets her talk at him for hours. She actually likes that he doesn’t say much because it gives her all the room in the world to fill the silence.

Bless his soul for having that much patience.

The sound of a motorcycle cuts through, and my heart swells before I even see him. As soon as I do, I open the paddock just as he stops short.

“Hello there, handsome.” I strut on over just as he removes his helmet, giving me a smile.

He winds an arm around the small of my back and pulls me in, kissing me senseless.

“Ugh,” Greer says as she walks past. “Do we all have to see that?”

Anton pulls back. “Yes.”

Greer groans. “Disgusting. I hate love.”

“No you don’t,” I tell her. “You just haven’t met the one yet.”

“Don’t wish that kind of evil on me.” She scowls before heading toward the bed-and-breakfast.

Anton’s mouth curves, and I laugh as she keeps walking.

He looks back at me, his thumb tracing along the side of my neck. “How was your day?”

“Good. Yours?”

“Better now.”

“That was overly romantic.” I grimace.

“Don’t tell anyone.” He kisses me again.

“Mm, never.” I throw my arms around him just as his gaze drops to my mouth like he wants to taste me all over again.

“Lunch?” he asks.

“Sure.”

He jumps off the bike and catches my hips, lifting me onto the seat. His eyes rake across my features, taking me in, while his knuckles drift lazily across my jaw, and my whole body heats beneath the simple touch.

“I love you,” he says.