My brows furrow. “Then what will I use when I’m at home?”
His jaw ticks, stormy eyes narrowing down at me. “Don’t want you there. I want you here. With me.” He flicks his gaze to Aurora who’s happily babbling in her playpen. “Withus.”
Oh, God.
Oh, fuck.
This sounds a hell of a long like permanence and forevers and big,big, commitments. It sounds like he’s asking me to move in.
My heart tries to break through my ribs and nausea swells, fast and hard.
I want him. I want them both. But this is all happening at warp-speed, and yet, it’s been a slow, dragging burn of hate, and anger, soft moments, and mefalling.
Falling hopelessly, desperately in love with this man. This life.
Abby’s right.
My heart does live in my vagina.
Shaking my head, I rub my temples and sigh. “You still didn’t need—”
“I wanted to,” he murmurs, dragging my face up and sliding his mouth against mine. “So I did.”
My hands find his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as I sink into the kiss. It’s soft and reverent. He tastes like warmth and safety, and the barest hint of coffee. He smells like sweat, and ash, andmyKade.
He’s spent the last few days helping clear what the fire left behind, showing up for everyone while quietly carrying the weight of it all. I’d only had one appointment this morning, which meant I was able to get back to the farm early to help.
Bea’s beside herself.
Everyone is.
They lost a lot in that fire. Equipment that insurance will replace, but not soon enough. Irrigation stuff I don’t understand—but that sounds like a major loss.
It’s the Honey Bea event shed that hurts Bea the most, though.
What it represents.
The night of the fire, over breakfast with the crew, she explained that it was something she started over twenty years ago, with her late husband at her side.
It was a way to celebrate what they created here, but also, a way to bring the town together. And for years, it did.
After William passed, she struggled to keep the big event going all on her own. And with times changing, her children growing, it's become more of a difficult task than a celebration.
But I saw the ache in her eyes. The heartbreak on her face.
The Honey Bea Bash is more than a simple summer kick off—it’s an Archer tradition. And I vowed then and there to make it happen for her.
No matter what it takes.
Fighting Cooper Ridge, rallying the community—that’ll take time, people, and a hell of a lot of resources. But the Honey Bea Bash? That’s something we can do. Something I can do.
For them.
Kade groans softly into my mouth, pulling me back to the present before breaking the kiss with a reluctant sigh. "Can’t kiss you like that with Aurora in the room."
I giggle, peeking over my shoulder. She’s chewing on her teether now, absolutely enraptured by whatever cartoon animal is dancing on the screen of her new baby-safe tablet.
“Rory is busy, but I get it.” My nose wrinkles and I force a few feet between us. “It does feel weird to touch when she’s around.”
