Calder Hayes doesn't do halfway, doesn't do casual, doesn't do careful.
And neither, if I'm honest, do I.
Which is why this is going to end badly, why I should shut it down now before we both get burned. But as I roll out pie dough on the floured counter, I catch myself humming and realize I'm already too far gone.
Damn him.
Damn this town.
Damn everything that's led me here, to this moment, to this terrifying edge of almost-happiness.
I shape the dough with more force than necessary, channeling frustration into productivity. Six pies to make before I head to the ranch. Six pies to keep my hands busy and my mind off the Alpha who just left my kitchen smelling like unfulfilled promises.
The front door opens again—he never did lock it behind him—and I don't even turn around.
"Forget something?" I ask, already knowing the answer, already feeling him moving closer like gravity I can't escape.
"Yeah," he says, and then his hands are on my waist, spinning me around, flour flying everywhere as he crashes his mouth to mine. "This. Forgot this."
And I let myself fall, just for a moment, into the kiss that tastes like inevitability.
His tongue traces mine, one hand tangling in my hair while the other pulls me impossibly closer, and I forget every reason this is a bad idea.
When he finally pulls back, we're both breathing hard, flour in his hair and probably mine too.
"Now I can go," he says, pressing one more quick kiss to my forehead before stepping back. "Needed to taste you."
"Get out," I manage, though I'm smiling despite myself. "Out, before I throw pie filling at your ridiculous face."
He's laughing as he leaves—for real this time—and I'm left standing in my flour-covered kitchen, lips swollen, body thrumming, wondering how someone who's already survived being burned can be so eager to play with fire again.
But as I turn back to my pies, I catch sight of my reflection in the window—flushed, alive, looking like someone who might actually have a future worth fighting for.
Maybe that's worth the risk…that some things are worth burning for.
I start humming again as I work, and this time, I don't try to stop myself. The pies can wait another minute while I savor this feeling, this dangerous hope blooming in my chest like flame.
Shaking my head, flour falling like snow around me, and get back to work. But my smile stays, stubborn as everything else about me, as I start cutting apples for filling.
Calder Hayes might be my downfall, but at least I'll go down swinging.
Or in his case, probably moaning his name.
God help me, I'm already gone.
THE WINDOW BETWEEN US
~WENDOLYN~
Ilinger in the dawn's hush outside Wendolyn's cottage, shadows from the rising sun cloaking me as I press against the weathered siding, my chest heaving with breaths I can't quite tame.
The cool desert air nips at my flushed skin, a stark counterpoint to the inferno raging in my veins from our stolen moments inside, where her scent still clings to me like smoke from a wildfire I can't extinguish. My cock throbs insistently against the confines of my jeans, each pulse a reminder of how close I came to losing control, to claiming what I've craved for far too long.
I brace one hand on the rough wood, willing my lungs to slow, but every inhale draws in traces of her—vanilla laced with wildflowers and that subtle undercurrent of smoke that always lingers on her, even here in this oasis of nowhere.
Through the kitchen window, I watch her move with that effortless grace, her vintage skirt swishing around those curvy thighs that drove me half-mad just minutes ago. She's turned back to her pies, flour dusting her hands as she measures ingredients with focused precision, but I know better. I saw theflush on her freckled cheeks when I left, the way her vivid green eyes darkened with the same hunger gnawing at me now.
Damn it, Wendy, you unravel me without even trying.
