One would have to forgive someone for thinking we’ve been robbed. The past few days, Sam and I have cleaned the house from top to bottom. We’ve left the essentials, but anything personal, we’ve packed away or given to Goodwill.

I have to admit it’s been a cathartic exercise. Cleaning out my closet was akin to clearing out the skeletons too. The more I tossed, the lighter I felt. My parents said it was okay to store what I didn’t need at their house while I figured out what I was going to do.

Sam’s headaches have subsided for now. And although we have sorted out our differences because, believe it or not, we’re actually getting along, I’m no closer to deciding what happens after we sell. Now that things have settled, so to speak, the thought of uprooting my life to a different state would create new stress in my life, which I can do without.

But I’m not cut out for this long-distance thing.

I miss Saxon. I miss him so much. Even though life is good, a huge gaping hole in my heart prevents me from fully enjoying this newfound freedom. I want to share all this with Saxon, but I have to remember he had a life before me—one he clearly doesn’t want to leave.

But one of us will eventually have to sacrifice something we love in order to be together. I know they say home is where the heart is, but Montana is both. Sighing, I give up on the notion of wearing my hair up and reach for my brush instead.

Tonight is dinner with the parents. In a way, I’m dreading us being in the same room together because the last time that happened, World War III almost erupted. But Sam is adamant and so is his therapist. Much to my horror, I attended his therapy sessions like Sophia suggested, listening to him unburden his sins and detail his frustrations.

At first, I felt like I was encroaching on his most personal thoughts because it was akin to couple’s therapy. But as time progressed, it was evident a lot of his defeats and goals were mine too. He was remorseful for what he did and believed he couldn’t move on because of his lies, but he was trying to move forward and focus on the future. It’s nice to know I’m not alone in my thoughts.

It’s hard not to feel like the victim in all this, but listening to Sam speak made me realize he was a victim too. We all are. One choice could change your life forever, and both Sam and I are now attempting to pick up the pieces and learn from our mistakes.

As I’m brushing my hair in front of the bathroom mirror, my thoughts drift to Saxon. How I hoped he was coming tonight, but I didn’t press when we spoke last. The fact he hasn’t mentioned it since I first told him about it is all the answer I need.

It’s his choice, and I respect whatever he decides, but I just wish he’d change his mind. The longer we’re apart, the harder it is to remember his touch, his smell. Sam is on the mend, but now that I’m here, it seems silly to go back and forth because Hayley will return from vacation soon. But tell that to my aching heart.

I rub over the object in question when the bathroom door opens. I see Sam reflected in the mirror. “Everything all right?”

Quickly dropping my hand, I nod. “Yes. I just ate one too many pieces of strawberry cheesecake.”

Sam laughs, coming to a stand behind me. “The caterer did a great job.”

Seeing as we’d already packed up half our kitchen, we figured the wise thing to do would be to have the dinner catered. There is so much food. Sam thinks I’ve gone overboard, but my plan is to stuff everyone full so they’re in a food coma for the rest of the night.

I have no idea how this is going to go down. My parents did not appreciate Kellie calling me a tramp, and I don’t think they’ll be forgiving her anytime soon. The only reason they agreed to come was because Sam asked them here. Regardless of what has happened between us, they will always have time for Sam.

Lifting my gaze, I notice Sam holding a blue silk tie. “Would you mind?”

“No, of course not.” Placing the brush on the edge of the basin, I turn around and take the tie from his hands. “You always sucked at this.” He chuckles, not bothering to contest my claims because they’re true.

Standing on tippy toes, I loop the tie around his neck and lift the collar of his pressed shirt. “I didn’t realize this was a black-tie affair. I suddenly feel underdressed,” I tease. I’m wearing a little black dress, but it’s simple compared to Sam’s stylish threads.

“You look nice,” Sam says, using the most noncommittal word in the English language. But I don’t mind.

As I begin knotting his tie, I can’t help but notice he’s wearing my favorite cologne. The fragrance transports me back to when I remember him wearing it last—it was a week before our wedding. Shaking such thoughts from my mind, I focus on the task at hand.

Sam’s soft breaths butter my cheeks as he watches me closely. This intimacy suddenly causes my steady hands to shake. “All d-done,” I falter, cringing when I sound like a pubescent teen. I quickly pull back, a strained smile tugging at my lips.

“Thanks.” I expect him to walk out the door, but he doesn’t. He gently brushes a strand of hair from my cheek. “Not just for the tie, but for coming back. I think I’ve made real progress this week, and I think that’s thanks to you.”

“No, Sam, it’s all you.” I wave him off, wanting no part in his victory, but he stands his ground.

“I feel stronger with you here, Lucy.” His fingertips linger on my skin, and I softly shrug from his touch. I’m glad, but him stroking me so openly has the boundary line blurring, and I don’t like it.

“That’s what friends are for.” The worse cliché ever, but in our circumstance, it’s the only reason I’m here.

Sam nods once, his shoulders slumping. “Well, I’m glad we can be friends.”

“Me too.” My lips are suddenly dry.

Even though Sam and I have established we’re friends and nothing more, moments like these make me believe maybe I’m kidding myself. But Piper’s words of wisdom crash into me, and I remember that this is normal. We’re still navigating the boundaries.

The doorbell chimes, and it couldn’t come at a better time. Groaning, I forget my woes and concentrate on surviving the night.

“Ready?”

“No.”

Sam smiles, but it appears weak. This is not a good start. “I’ll meet you out there.” He doesn’t wait for me to reply and quickly exits. The moment he’s gone, I take a deep breath.

Just when I think we’ve made progress, something like this happens, which has me doubting our ability to be friends. I can think about this later, however, because Kellie’s unmistakable voice booms down the hallway.

Applying some lip gloss, I slip into my strappy heels and put my game face on. I have no idea what I’m walking into, but I’ll do so wearing my best shoes. Brushing my sweaty palms down the front of my dress, I take two calming breaths before walking into the living room where Sam is taking his mother’s fur coat. The moment she sees me, her painted red lips twist into a scowl, but it soon disappears. Kellie Stone is all for show, and tonight will be no exception.

“Lucy, darling, hello. You look lovely.” She gestures for me to give her a hug. Sam and Greg stand behind her, and I can see them holding their breaths.

Remembering why I agreed to do this, I force down my need to run in the opposite direction and give her a light hug. “Thanks for coming. Both of you.” Greg nods, clearly relieved I’ve played nice.

Once I’ve been released from what feels like a Venus flytrap, I offer to get our guests a drink, but Sam jumps in. “I’ll get them. What does everyone want?” I could use his cast as an excuse to help him, but he’s proven to move just fine on his own.

“I’ll have a white wine.”

“A beer for me, son.”

When Sam looks at me, it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask for vodka—straight. But I wring my hands nervously. “I’ll have some wine too. Thanks.” He nods, almost silently asking permission if it’s okay that he leaves me alone with mommy dearest. I smile in return.

Once he’s gone, I attempt to engage in civil conversation, but I have no idea what to say. When Sam and I were together, I had no issues talking to Greg and Kellie, but that was a lifetime ago. It was before Saxon. Just thinking his name has me frowning.

“Whatever you’ve cooked smells simply delicious,” Greg says, filling the silence.

“Oh, we decided to get tonight catered. We’ve packed up most of our kitchen, so it made…” I don’t get to finish my sentence however because Kellie’s mask slips, and in its place, is her bitter true form. Greg clears his throat.

Well, tonight has just turned to shit.

The doorbell rings, and I thank the stars something has worked in my favor. “If you’ll excuse me.” I don’t wait and practically run to the front door.

My parents know something is up the moment they see me. “I left the car running…just say the word.” It’s exactly what I needed to hear, and I instantly relax.

“Thank you, but I can’t run in these heels.” I hug my dad harder than I’ve ever hugged him before.

“How are you doing, baby girl?” he asks into my ear. I shrug in response.

My mother looks as comfortable as I do. “Hello, sweetie.”

“Hi, Mom.” I latch onto her also, not wanting to let her go. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot to Sam.”

“Of course.” She wants to say so much more, but we all know these walls have ears tonight. My mother takes my hand, and I instantly feel better. Nothing can compare to a mother’s voice, well, my mother anyway because when we walk into the living room and see Kellie, we know she’s the exception to this rule.

“Maggie. Simon. It’s so lovely to see you again.” No, it really isn’t, but we all go along with the charade. My mom kisses Kellie’s cheeks while Greg shakes my dad’s hand. It’s all civil, but the undercurrent of tension still exists, and we can all feel it.

“Oh, hey,” Sam says, drinks in hand. “I didn’t hear the doorbell.”

“Let me help you.” I lunge for the wine glass, afraid he’ll drop it.

“Thanks. I’ll be so glad once this comes off.” He waves the cast in question.

“I’m impressed with how well you’re getting around.” A grin tugs at Sam’s lips. It takes me a moment, but when I realize what I just said, I quickly backtrack, my cheeks on fire. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine. I know what you meant.” He rubs my arm reassuringly while I wish the floor would swallow me whole.

“Holy mother of god,” I whisper under my breath, downing the entire glass of wine. Kellie clucks her tongue, undoubtedly pissed off I just drank her wine. But she’d better get used to it because I don’t plan to share.

Sam passes his dad the beer then returns to the kitchen to hopefully bring back the bottle. Running a hand through my hair, I’m semi thankful my dad and Greg are making small talk. When I meet my mother’s stare, though, a shiver runs through me— the proverbial someone walked over your grave sort of feeling.

For once, I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I have a feeling I probably won’t like whatever she has to say. Tonight can go to hell.

Dinner smelled delicious—too bad my appetite went to shit before the main dish was served.

Everything was going fine until Kellie asked why we weren’t using the silverware set she’d given us for our engagement. She knew damn well why but wanted to see me squirm. Sam swooped in and saved the day, which I was most thankful for, but when that unidentifiable look once again passed over my mother’s face, I suddenly lost my appetite.

I’m desperate to ask her what’s going on, but we haven’t had a minute alone. I’m practically bouncing in my seat, waiting for Greg to finish his pork belly so I can excuse myself to make us some coffee. I plan to drag my mom into the kitchen with me.

The moment his fork hits the edge of the plate, I shoot upward and collect the dishes. “I’ll make coffee. Mom, can you give me a hand?” I look at her pointedly because this isn’t optional. She nods, gently dabbing at the corner of her mouth with her napkin.

“Here, let me help.” Sam goes to stand, but I quickly place my hand on his bicep, stopping him.

“No, it’s okay. Besides, four hands are better than three,” I tease, peering down at his cast. He chuckles and brushes my hand with his.

“Fair enough.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief, but that catches in my throat when I notice Kellie looking at our union with half a smile. The Guinness Book of Records is sure to call me because I’ve just given my hand whiplash—a world’s first, I’m sure—when I remove it from Sam’s arm lightning quick. My exit is far from graceful, but I’ve accepted this night for the disaster it is.

Dumping the dishes into the sink, I brace my hands on the edge and sink low. When my mom enters, I expect her to talk, but she doesn’t, which makes me even more nervous. “What’s wrong?” I don’t see the point in sugarcoating anything.

“Lucy, honey…” Her footsteps sound lightly against the floor as she approaches where I still stand, stooped over the sink. “You do realize Samuel is still in love with you, don’t you?”

“What?” I feared she’d say that.

“It’s clear as day.”

Closing my eyes, I bow my head and sigh. “He’s not in love with me. He loves me, and that’s normal. Our feelings just won’t disappear overnight.” Piper’s words of wisdom give me the strength I need.

“So you still love him?”

My heart begins a deafening rhythm. “I’ll always have…feelings for him, but I don’t love him like that anymore. I love Saxon.” When I muster enough bravery, I open my eyes and turn my cheek to face her.

There is no judgment, just how I knew there wouldn’t be. “I know you love Saxon, honey, but I think you’re fooling yourself if you don’t think you love Samuel as well.”

“No.” I gasp, shaking my head. What is she talking about? “I do-don’t.” I ignore the Freudian slip as it was just an innocent stutter.

She gently takes me in her arms and rubs my back. “I think you need to give yourself some time away from both Saxon and Samuel. The feelings you have for Saxon are new, but with Samuel, I think he’s a bigger part of you than you realize.”

I mute my impending cries with her shoulder, refusing to break. “You’ve jumped into another big relationship without giving yourself time to breathe. One only has to look at Saxon to know he’s the real deal.” My heart swells. “That boy would happily lay down his life for your happiness. Are you ready for that sort of commitment so soon after Samuel?”

“Why are you telling me this now?” I don’t want to sound critical, but this isn’t the first time we’ve discussed my relationship with Saxon.

“Because this is the first time I’ve seen you with Samuel…the old Samuel, that is. I didn’t know if he’d ever return to the way he once was, which, in a way, would have made your choice easier, but now that he’s the Samuel you fell in love with, the Sam you were going to marry, I fear things aren’t as clear cut as they seemed.”

I want to tell her about my reaction to Alicia, about how I felt when we closed our bank account, but I don’t because I fear it’ll confirm what she’s certain is true.

“You will fight this, Lucy. I know you. But sooner or later, you’ll run out of fight. All I ask is that you be honest with yourself. That’s all you can do. You owe that to yourself…and to Saxon and Samuel.”

Every inch of my body is wrestling with her words, but a teeny part knows that what she says is true. In no way am I questioning my love for Saxon, or the fact I want to be with him. But with Saxon, so many question marks remain. He has a life outside Montana, outside me—am I willing to slot myself in and change everything I know for love?

I want to say with one hundred percent certainty that yes, I will. But the fact I can’t stomach leaving here is proof that no, things are not that simple.

“Just take your time. If they love you, they will give you that.” I’m stuck, and I didn’t even know it until now. But what I do know is that living without Saxon leaves me on the brink of inconsolable tears.

What I feel for him is so different from what I felt for Sam, and I explain those feelings the only way I know how. “You don’t choose love…it chooses you.” Her words have never made more sense.

I don’t fail to see the comparison when I cried on her shoulder all those nights ago. She told me love doesn’t make sense. Love happens when you least expect it. It’s inconvenient, messy, and reckless. It isn’t a decision; it’s a promise—a promise to chase inconvenient, messy, and reckless love with someone who embraces the chaos with you.

And my heart is telling me Saxon has always been that person.

“Just promise me you’ll really think this through.”

“I promise,” I muffle into her shoulder.

“Everything okay in here?” Sam’s concerned voice has me sniffing back my tears and dabbing my eyes discreetly.

“Oh yes, fine. Just girl talk. Thank you, Samuel. We will be out in a moment.” She always had a way with words.

“Are you okay, Lucy?” he gently asks, as I’m still buried in my mom’s shoulder.

“I’m okay.” I’m proud of myself for pulling it together. He lingers, but when I hear him eventually leave, I exhale. “We’d better get dessert out there.” I break our embrace and start the coffee while my mom hunts through the refrigerator. She’s giving me space to collect my thoughts, but I doubt I’ll be able to process everything tonight. I thought I had this figured out, but I clearly was wrong.

As I’m waiting for the coffee to percolate, I don’t even realize my mom has gone, and Sam has taken her place. When I see his reflection in the kitchen window, I take a moment to catch my breath.

It’s impossible not to compare this Sam to the one I remember, and in turn, it’s hard not to recall all the happy memories we share in this very space. My mom is right. It would have been easier if Sam had stayed the selfish, cruel asshole he was when he awoke from his coma. That’s one of the reasons I fell in love with Saxon in the first place. He showed me the person I was missing out on becoming—the person I am now.

But now that Sam has reverted to his past self, I can’t help but remember the happy times we shared. Regardless of the lies, I can’t deny that I loved Sam wholeheartedly. And now, I don’t know how I feel. I know I don’t love him how I once did, but my heart is still in sync with his. And I hate myself for it.

Reaching for a chocolate iced cupcake, I shove the entire thing into my mouth, hoping to drown my sorrows. Or at the very least, succumb to a sugar coma. Sam’s reflection smirks, and I scold myself for even paying attention to trivial stuff such as this. I can never lose sight of what he did, or the way he treated me when he forgot who I was. Being in this house clouds my judgment. It’s plagued with the ghosts of my past. I need a fresh start, away from here, away from the memories of yesterday.

With that as my marching beat, I spin, shoulders pulled back. My newfound courage takes a nosedive, though, when Sam ambles toward me, that smirk still spreading wide. I have no idea what he’s doing, and like always, it’s too late to react.

“You always got more on your face than you did your mouth.” I watch with bated breath as he gently brushes his thumb over the corner of my mouth, coming away with a smudge of gooey chocolate. My cheeks heat at my gluttony, but they explode into a full-blown scarlet fire when he slips it between his lips, sucking it clean.

“Th-thanks,” I stutter, in a complete state of shock. My mother’s words of warning ricochet loudly within, and I suddenly can’t breathe. I need to get out of here. “If you’ll excuse me.” I don’t wait for him to reply and charge out the back door. I know he’ll follow, so without a second thought, I kick off my shoes, dig in my heels, and run.

Images of him sucking his thumb assail my morality, causing me to run faster and farther away. I wish I could run forever because the wind in my hair and the earth beneath my bare feet liberates the heavy burden on my soul. But I know at every corner I turn, Sam will be there. Until I figure out what to do, I will never be able to outrun him because, in reality, I can’t outrun myself.

The moon is full, which is my favorite phase. Magic is truly in the air when the heavens illuminate this way by an everlasting glow. Like a beacon sent from above, clarity shines brightly when the barn comes into view. Without hesitation, I run toward it, as it’s a haven—my neutral ground.

The house is swimming with memories of Sam, but this barn, every inch of it permeates Saxon’s scent and pull. And I need it.

As I approach, I come to an abrupt stop. Tipping my face to the skies, I take a deep breath and just be.

Sooner or later, you’ll run out of fight.

“No,” I cry out under my breath. Shaking my head, I refuse to entertain my mother’s words. I will never stop fighting because Saxon has given me so much to fight for.

“When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.” Time stands still for so many reasons, but at the forefront is the certainty that a deep, gravelly tenor just recited Shakespeare to me.

Life wouldn’t be this cruel and let me imagine something so real, so with a measured cadence, I turn slowly. The moon goes into hiding, almost afraid of what it might bear witness to. I blink once, terrified the vision before me will disperse into thin air because I’ve never seen a more poetic sight than I do right now.

Saxon recited Shakespeare moments before we shared our first kiss—he’s always known the way to my heart.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“… Saxon?” I need to make sure he’s really here. But there is no mistaking that lopsided smirk tugging at those sinful, smooth lips. “What are you doing here?” I’m far from articulate, but with this sensory overload, I fear my brain might short-circuit at any moment.

He shuffles his motorcycle boots, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m here because a piece of my heart was missing, and I want it back.”

Has his voice always been this decadent? Probably. When he ambles toward me, oozing pure masculinity and strength, I wonder if he’s always been sex on legs. Most definitely.

I watch with wide eyes. “I’m right here. Come and take it back.” It’s a command, one he is clearly happy to obey.

“Oh, I plan to.” He continues his walk as the moon peeks its head out from behind the clouds, illuminating Saxon in all his glory. He is a vision, and I can’t consume him fast enough.

He’s on me in seconds, threading his large hands through my hair and drawing our foreheads together. His warm breath is like an adrenaline punch to my core and a guttural whimper escapes me. My body hums with ecstasy, finally feeling complete.

“Lucy…” He inhales me into him. Every nerve ending is on fire, and I’m certain I’m seconds away from melting. He takes his time, savoring me, storing me in memory as I do the same with him.

I want nothing more than for him to kiss me, but this simplicity of just drinking each other in is far more sensual than anything I could ever imagine. He brushes his nose against mine, tightening the hold on my hair. I want to say so many things, but nothing could ever sum up what I’m feeling right now.

With a sluggish pulse, Saxon drops to his knees and wraps his arms around my waist. He presses his cheek to my stomach. The sight of his surrender is my undoing. I wind my fingers through his tousled hair and relish in the touch. “I missed you…so much.”

He hums, nestling closer to me. “I missed you too. Is everything all right? I saw you running from the house.”

“It is now,” I whisper.

He tilts his head back, peering up at me from under his delicate lashes. “Come with me?”

“I’ll go anywhere with you.” And I mean it. He smiles as he stands.

Looping his fingers through mine, he leads me into the barn. The moment my eyes adjust to the dim lighting from the rustic sconces, memories of being in here with Saxon assault me, and I inhale slowly.

The heat from his towering body warms mine as he presses his chest against my back. He leans over my shoulder and gently delivers three kisses to the side of my neck. Once he reaches my pulse, he suckles softly. Unable to help myself, I lean my head back and lose myself in this consciousness of complete ecstasy.

He smells like heaven, he smells like home, and whatever insecurities I had scatter in the wind. Saxon has shown me who I want to be, but more importantly, I want to be with him because he’s a part of me. Now that he’s here, I will never let him go again.

With that as my driving force, I spin around, needing to feel every part of him imprinted on my very core. We don’t need words because our bodies are in step with the other, a perfect yin to my yang. I stand on tippy toes, smashing my lips to his. The moment I taste him, I lose whatever sense of control guides me, and I devour him.

He hums into my mouth, his desire filling my lungs, stoking the fire within. Lacing my fingers through his long hair, I can’t consume him fast enough. His tongue seeks refuge, and I permit him entry to dominate and control.

His heavy scruff abrades my skin, but the burn adds to the pleasure building within. He licks the seam of my lips, sampling my flavor. I can’t believe I lived without his kisses for so long. Fisting the curls at his nape, I press us chest to chest, needing to feel him in the flesh. Saxon reads my desire, and with one fluid movement, he scoops me into his arms. I wrap my legs around him, holding on tight as he walks us through the barn.

Our kisses grow frenzied, and when he lowers me onto the bales of hay, I can’t get his shirt off fast enough. We separate only long enough to strip him topless before we reconnect in a flurry of hands and a summit of passion. Saxon snares the hem of my dress, making his intentions clear a second later when he strips me bare.

He hisses, rocking back on his heels as he studies me from head to toe. Without reservation, I reach around to unhook my bra. As my breasts fall free, a growl slips past Saxon’s supple lips. He unfastens the top button of his jeans, the sight a wicked delight.

His sun-kissed skin ripples, and I itch to trace every hardened plane with my tongue. Each tattoo comes to life, and when I zero in on my favorite one of all, I recall all the moments we lived through to end up at this exact moment in time.

He runs a hand through his hair, eyes locked on mine. “I love you.” It’s a vow, one which warms my heart.

“I love you, too. Promise me you won’t let me go again.” This has many meanings, and I leave it open to interpretation.

Saxon inhales, his chest rising and then falling with his heavy exhale. “I promise.”

With that decided, I crawl forward, looping my fingers through the beltloops of Saxon’s jeans. Drawing him toward me, I peer up at him as I undo his zipper. His rock-hard abs undulate, shooting a live current of yearning straight to my core. I give into temptation and lower my lips to his flesh. At first, I don’t move. I simply inhale, basking in his musk, savoring the scent of his skin. But when his abs prickle with tiny goose bumps, my body takes over, and I trace over every well-defined ridge with my tongue.

He hums, spurring me on, and I continue my journey downward. I circle his belly button, supporting myself as I rest both hands at his waist. As I’m treasuring his torso, licking over his flank where his tattoo is, I slip a hand into his jeans and palm his heavy length. He hisses, his muscles rolling under my tongue.

He is such a generous lover, always ensuring my needs are met before his, but I want to tease him to the point of shattering, just how he does to me. I slide his jeans down, holding my breath as I expose each delicious inch of his golden flesh.

When his shaft pops free, I take a few moments to appreciate what’s on show. I never thought I could ever be this sexually liberated, but with Saxon, I truly feel myself. Closing the distance, I take him into my mouth and pleasure him just as he has done to me time and time again.

He grunts, fisting his fingers through my hair as he sweeps it to one side. It turns me on knowing he’s watching me. Saxon is royally endowed, so I try my hardest to pleasure him as best as I can. As I go in deep, tears sting my eyes, but I don’t allow that to deter me.

Saxon caresses my cheek and down the length of my neck with his fingertips as he hums. The low rumble stokes my inner vixen, and I rub my legs together, hoping to ease the burn. “Come ’ere.” I don’t have a chance to object because he lifts me up and slams his lips to mine.

As we madly kiss, he lowers me onto my back, reaching between us to remove my underwear. The moment I’m bare, he circles my entrance with the pads of two fingers before seeking the sanctuary within. I buck my hips, releasing an impassioned moan.

He breaks our union, only to descend the slope of my neck before worshiping the tops of my breasts. As he slithers lower, I know where he’s headed, but all I want is to feel connected—mind, body, and soul. So I snare his cheeks and draw him back up to my lips.

His weight is perfect. I lock my arms around his neck and welcome him home as I unlock my legs. He settles between them, staring deep into my eyes as he guides himself into me. A breathless gasp escapes us when we lock. He doesn’t bury himself all the way in. He stills, allowing me to indulge in this moment as much as he is.

His longer hair flicks forward, framing his beautiful face, and without reservation, I reach up and cup his cheek. He settles into my touch, appearing to be at total peace. When we’re entwined this way, the noise settles, and everything fades into the background. There are no fears or questions because the world can fall into place around us.

I was stupid to question this because this is who I am. Saxon isn’t just the other half of my heart; he’s the entire thing. Pushing my insecurities away for good, I arch my back and lose myself to complete bliss. He sinks inside, strengthening what we were helpless to fight.

“Oh, god,” I whimper, his sluggish strokes making me come alive. He seals his lips around mine, his tongue matching the speed of his plunges. I lose myself—not overthinking, just feeling.

He dives into me over and over, his hands and lips never leaving my body. This feels different, like we both did some soul-searching while apart, but now that we’re together, everything seems to fit. He buries his face in the hollow of my neck, surrendering.

“You are my world, Lucy. Everything makes sense when we’re together.” He feels it too. I wonder what happened for him to uncover this truth. But I can ask him tomorrow because the moment he increases the rhythm of his strokes, I’m as good as gone.

When he reaches down and circles my swollen clit, I don’t stand a chance and come undone with a tempestuous scream. He pumps his hips, the rumble building, and when he starts to pull out, I lock my legs and arms around him, wanting him to see this through.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his lips pressed against my pulse as he spills his seed into me. “I love you.” Closing my eyes, I bask in the afterglow, never wanting to leave this barn ever again. He’s spent and when he grows lax, I hold on tighter…intent on never letting him go.