THE DOOR CLOSES A SPLIT second before my back hits it and I heave out a frazzled breath. I practice breathing deep, focusing on counts of eight. I realize this is Lincoln’s baseball jersey number and that makes me laugh and my heart to swell again.

I can’t win. Not with this man.

The excitement of everything is taking its toll. I could feel the adrenaline start to wear off right before Lincoln and Graham walked into the kitchen.

Graham. Holy shit. He’s like a darker, more brooding version of Lincoln. He doesn’t look at you. He assesses you. He doesn’t flippantly decide he likes you. He decides. Chooses. Everything with him seems so calculated and it leaves me scattered. He’s a force, the eye of a hurricane, and his power is felt not just by me, but by the whole family. They jab at him, tease him, but there’s a respect with Graham that makes me wonder who he really is behind the scenes.

I make my way to the sink and check myself out in the vanity. My reflection smiles back. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes almost shining in the light. I look . . . happy.

Rinsing my mouth out with a handful of cool water and smoothing out my hair, I open the door and flip off the light. Making my way down the hallway, I almost laugh out loud. It’s like walking through a commercial for greeting cards. Everything is so cozy and inclusive, just like the Landry’s have made me feel.

Lincoln isn’t standing where I left him. I peek into the kitchen and don’t see him in the mix. Turning, I catch the outline of two bodies, one of which is undeniably Lincoln’s, on the front porch through the window. I pitter across the hardwood and have my hand on the doorknob when I hear his voice on the other side.

“Yeah, Sienna,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “I do. I like her a lot.”

“I like her too.”

I smile and know I should open the door and not eavesdrop. But when I hear their voices again, curiosity gets the better of me.

“She seems really nice,” Sienna continues. “I think she really likes you too.”

“What’s not to love?”

Sienna laughs at him as I stifle my own.

“I didn’t say she loves you, asshole,” Sienna jokes. “I said likes you. But, since you brought it up . . .”

My heart slams so hard I’m afraid they hear it. My free hand clamps over my mouth and I drop my other from the handle. I’m not about to open the damn door now.

“Do you love her, Linc?”

Shoes squeak against the porch before what sounds like a chain rattling. Then it rattles again. When Lincoln answers, his voice sounds a bit farther away.

“I think so.” His words, even though a touch distant, are as clear as a bell. Both in volume and in meaning, and my heart wraps them around itself. “I think I love her.”

“Why? Why her? Not that I don’t like her, but I’m curious.”

“She’s such a great person,” he says. I know without looking at him that he’s smiling and looking out across the lawn. “Dani’s smart and funny and she cares about shit. Not just how she looks or how I look or my contract. She never asks about it. She asks about my shoulder, but not about the game. Not ever.”

“I like that,” Sienna say softly.

“Me too.” The chains rattle again. “She’s one-of-a-kind, Sienna.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

My throat constricts as I wait for his response. My hand trembles at my side and I’m tempted to barge through the door because I don’t know if I’m ready for his answer—either way.

“It’s like this,” he says. “Meeting her has put me in a position.”

“Like doggy style?” Sienna laughs.

“No,” he sighs. “Like . . . I’m standing at the plate in the championship game. We’re down by three and bases are loaded. Full count. The perfect pitch is coming and I’m a fucking idiot if I don’t swing.”

I hear my gasp. I look behind me to see if anyone else did. The room is vacant, the laughs from the kitchen trickling into the foyer. Tears dot my eyes as my hand lies across my heart.

“Wanna define swing?” Sienna giggles.

“Yeah,” I whisper, then clamp my hand harder around my lips. “Just . . . I can’t be tentative up there, Sienna. I can’t think about it too much, rethink my decision. Yeah, it could be a ball. There’s no guarantee. But every fucking indication is that it’s a fastball and that’s my jam. It could be a curveball. I could strike out in a blaze of glory. But it’s still a blaze of glory. It was still worth that chance.”

I brush my eyes with the back of my hands. My heart feels like it’s bursting in a Fourth of July finale.

For some reason, it means so much more that I heard him say it to someone else. With Sienna, he didn’t feel compelled or pressured to say these things. It wasn’t said in the heat of the moment. He means it. I’m sure of it, and I can’t take it. I shove the door open. I need to see him. I need to hug him. I need him to know I feel the same way before I start thinking about curveballs and change-ups.

“Hey,” I say, probably a little too loudly as I step onto the porch. Lincoln is leaning against the railing, his body facing his sister who is sitting on the porch swing. “Sorry that took so long.”

Sienna rises, flashes her brother a knowing look, and then comes my way. “No worries. It was nice having a minute to catch up with Linc. I’m going to head in and see what Ford’s doing. I haven’t given him enough hell yet.”

“See you in a bit,” Lincoln calls after her. Once we’re alone, he extends a hand to me. Without a second thought, I go to him. But I don’t take his hand. Instead, I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my head against his chest. He smells faintly of the cologne he put on hours ago mixed with the pines spattering the landscape around us.

One hand finds the small of my back, one caresses the back of my head. It’s the safest, most adored moment of my life. I’m not sure how because he’s not saying a word. He’s not saving me from anything. There’s no declaration promised or insinuated.

Maybe it’s just the love I feel pulsing through the Farm. I suppose it could be infecting my brain somehow. Pulling away from him, I look into his eyes and I’m wrong. It’s not the love in the air. It’s the love buried in those green eyes.

“Let’s take a walk,” he whispers. Taking my hand and interlacing our fingers together, he guides me down the steps. The sun hangs barely, sending a final farewell with a burst of purples and pinks.

“Where are we going?” I ask. We take the corner of the house and then veer away from the lights and down what looks to be a well-worn path. It extends down a little hill and into the trees. “There aren’t bears or wolves in here, right?”

He rolls his eyes and mocks me. I shove him off the path, making him laugh. Before I can press the issue, the trees break around a pristine little lake. It’s not big, maybe covering a few acres. There’s a dock to the right and a slide beyond that. In the fading light, I can also see what appears to be a zip line crossing over a portion where the water fingers inland.

If I close my eyes, I can imagine a bright, sunny summer day. The Landry faces are all smiling, their voices full of laughs, the water splashing as they swim and relax and enjoy the water. And each other.

“Hey,” Lincoln says, moving me so I’m in front of him. He peers into my eyes. “How are you? For real. This can be a little overwhelming.”

“It’s great, Landry. Honestly. I’ve never seen anything like this.” “The lake? The house? Never seen anything like what?”

I shrug. “All of it, I guess. Mostly your family though. They’re amazing.”

Pride washes over his face. “They are, huh?”

“It makes me want to hope for a house full of kids someday.”

His throat bobs as his fingers rewrap around my shoulders. “Maybe little Landry’s?”

“I . . .” I laugh, a defense mechanism as old as time. “Lincoln, I . . . Did you really just say that?”

“Too soon?” He plays it off, like it’s one of his usual ribbings, but it’s not. I see the anxiety hidden in the lines on his face. Things are about to get real.

“You love kids,” I say. “That’s why you donated the money to the hospital.”

His head cocks to the side. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me, Landry.”

“I’m not. I—”

My fingertip presses against the center of his smooth lips. “Don’t lie,” I whisper. “It was you.”

“How would you possibly know that?” he asks, his mouth moving against my finger. It sounds garbled and silly and, as I laugh, he nips it with his teeth.

“Because I know you,” I whisper.

The sun sets behind him, dropping below the tall evergreens. It makes the angles of his face that much more severe. I shiver, not just because the sun’s warmth is missing, but because of the way his gaze intensifies in the fading light.

“You do know me,” he says, trailing the back of his hand from my temple, down the side of my face, before dropping to my waist. “And if you think you don’t know something, I want you to ask me.”

This conversation is picking up pace. Lincoln’s determination to get to wherever he’s going is evident. I just try not to pass out.

A million thoughts swirl in my head. Am I ready for this? Do I go with my brain and breathe, thinking of logic and risk assessment? Or do I follow my heart and just go for it?

He smirks and one thing is certain: I can’t follow my vagina. “Do you think you know me, Dani?”

I nod. Or I think I do. I’m not sure. I’m lost in his gaze and a chorus of crickets chirping around us.

“The last time I said this, you tried to break up with me,” he laughs. It’s not real though. It’s a choked version, broken up by a set of nerves I don’t see often in him. “But I want to say it again. And I want you to consider it.”

He steps towards me, closing the distance between us. Without a thought, my arms reach up and dangle off his shoulders as his own find my waist and pull me up against him.

“That’s why you brought me out here, isn’t it?” I tease. “You brought me into the forest where I can’t run away.”

“Damn right,” he laughs, kissing me gently. “I didn’t bring you here to convince you that I’m the guy for you. I really want you to enjoy the holiday and relax and have fun with this bunch I call family. But I’d really, really, like it if you’d think about maybe . . .”

“Maybe what, Landry?”

His face blushes. “You’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”

“Totally.”

Blowing out a breath, he looks at everywhere but me. When his eyes finally find mine, I’m smiling. There’s no way not to.

“I would like it if you’d think about taking this thing between us to the major leagues,” he says. His shoulders go back, like he’s proud of his little proposition. The entire thing makes me giggle. “You’re laughing at me?”

“The majors? Really, Landry?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “We’re in the minors now. We’re practicing, getting our timing down. But, sweetheart, our timing is impeccable. If it gets any fucking better, I’m just not letting you out of my bed.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” I wink.

“I want to move us up to the majors. Charge the mound whenever I want.”

“Oh my God,” I laugh.

“Have some day games, maybe a double header or two. And I’ll slide in head first whenever you want me to, baby.”

“You aren’t talking about baseball, are you?” I say, feeling my thighs clench together.

“Nope.”

His fingers skirt the top of my waistband, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. My body temperature elevates quicker than Pepper changes her mind about soup.

“Landry . . .” I all but beg.

“Say yes.” His breath is hot against my cheek.

The harder I try to focus on the request, the harder it is to do just that. My body riots for this man. My heart leads the charge. My brain, even though it still blinks a faint red light of warning, gives in.

“You win,” I say, working to dig my hands beneath the elastic of his boxer briefs.

“Does that mean yes?”

“Damn it, Landry,” I pant, taking his girth in my hand. “Didn’t you hear me?”

He skims up my abs and removes my breasts from my bra, leaving them sitting on the cups. The cool evening air causes my nipples to form peaks.

“I heard you,” he says. “And I didn’t hear a yes.”

He squats in front of me. My shirt is raised to my chin. His tongue darts out, flicking against one nipple before doing the same to the other. “Yes?” he asks.

Taking both a deep breath and his face in my hands, I pull him back just so I can see in his eyes. “Yes, Landry. But I’m going to need you to hit me home now.”

His lips hover over my breast. “It’ll be my pleasure.”