The sunshine feels warmer, the air cleaner as I tilt my face to the clouds and bask in the beauty of this day. My parents left after I told them everything. While they raged at some moments, they mostly wept with me. I didn’t want them feeling sorry for me because the choices I made were mine alone.

But once I told them all there was to tell, my mom professed that she’s never been prouder, and my father hugged me tighter than he’s ever held me before. They apologized for not doing more, but they didn’t have to be sorry. It is what it is and just having them listen without judgment or disappointment was more than I could ever ask for.

When I divulged the secrets I uncovered, my mom told me what I knew she would. If I loved Saxon, then I would have to learn to accept it and move forward. I would have my good days and bad, but as long as the good overrode the bad, then I was on the right path.

As for what Sam did, she said that I would know what to do.

I will never fully forgive him for lying to me for so long, but I’m not perfect. Sleeping with his brother and then choosing Saxon over Sam is proof of this. One crime isn’t worse than the other, and maybe one day, we can both forgive. We both hurt each other, and now it’s time to salvage what we can.

Once I bid them farewell, I stood in the middle of my yard, unable to move. There is something almost cathartic about unburdening the sins of your past. Once a secret is spilled, it’s no longer yours to hold alone.

I let go, and it felt good.

I’ve almost forgotten the beauty of stillness. My head has been so filled with clutter, but now, it’s clear. For the first time in a long time, I feel like me.

Thunder comes charging up the hill, barking ecstatically because I’m sure I’ve resembled a ghost these past few months. “Hey boy,” I coo, reaching down to pat him on the scruff. Noticing a smudge of grease on his mane, I can’t help but smile. “You been helping Saxon?” He turns in a circle, woofing happily. “Shall we go find him?”

He turns the way he came, his shaggy fur catching the gust as he runs with haste. Without a minute to waste, I follow, spreading my arms out wide and relishing the breeze as it brushes against my cheeks. I feel seconds away from taking flight because I’m as light as the wind. Closing my eyes, I increase my speed and leave my fears behind. I can’t run away from my past, but I can run toward my future, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.

I know my property like the back of my hand, and the moment I meet flat ground, my eyes pop open, and I search the grounds for Saxon. Thunder’s greased state confirms what I thought to be true, and I don’t have far to look.

Saxon is in the garage, his head buried beneath the hood of my Chevy pickup. A country tune plays over the radio, and I take a moment to fully appreciate the sight before me. His blue jeans accentuate his firm behind, and the way he tinkers under the hood with skill and confidence has me appreciating how good he is with his hands. A blush overtakes me when I relive how those hands felt as they explored every inch of my flesh.

When he stands tall, I see he’s wearing a black baseball cap turned backward. I have no idea why, but this just adds to his appeal. He rummages through the toolbox for whatever he’s searching for and then ducks back under the hood, none the wiser that I’m having visions of kissing the living hell out of him. Thunder barks twice, completely raining on my stalker parade.

Not wanting him to catch me staring like a creeper, I walk toward him, eager to tell him everything that happened with my parents. He gave us space and made himself scarce, but now that it’s just us, I can’t hold back my anticipation at seeing him.

When he turns over his shoulder, be still my heart. I will never tire of seeing that ravenous look. I quicken my pace because I can’t get to him fast enough. With a few feet between us, I stop, smiling when the smudges of grease appear to be his new facial cream.

“Is that your beauty secret? Truck grease?” I point at his face, before covering my mouth to mute my giggles. When he runs his forearm against his forehead, it only makes things worse, and I burst into laughter. “Epic fail.”

His husky chuckles stoke my constant craving, but for now, I quash it down because it’s nice to laugh. “It’s really good for the skin. Here, let me show you.”

“Don’t you dare,” I warn, still catching my breath. My warning falls on deaf ears because when he turns, I’m about to become his prey.

It’s the ultimate standoff, and the thrill of the chase titillates me to the core. I step left, but he’s too fast, and I don’t stand a chance. He’s charging for me before I can scream mercy, but who am I kidding, I’m his willing prisoner. “Saxon! No!” I exclaim, laughing like a maniacal idiot.

I make it three steps before he scoops me into his arms and lifts me off the ground. My attempts to flee are fruitless because he has no intention of letting go. “Are you ready for your makeover?”

I playfully pound at his shoulders, struggling to dodge his advances, but it’s too late as he brushes his face against mine. I scream while choking on my laughter because he smears the caked grease from his cheeks across mine. He joins in, chuckling deeply as he rubs his face all over mine, ensuring no inch remains untouched.

When he pulls away, he’s a smudged mess, so I can only imagine what I look like. “You brute!” I cry, attempting to wiggle free.

He only tightens his hold, boosting me higher. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist so I don’t fall, but I know he won’t drop me. “Wow, so pretty,” he mocks while I smile.

Adrenaline thrums through my veins, and now that my flight response has dwindled, a different type of frenzy takes over. Our lips are a hair’s breadth away, intermingling his breath with mine. My heart beats to a cavernous cadence, and when he exhales heavily, all decency is thrown to the wind.

Tearing the hat from his head, I thread my fingers through his long hair. He moans low, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. An urge overtakes me, and I lower my chin, biting down the side of his neck. He hums, allowing me deeper access as he throws his head back. I control the rhythm with my fingers looped through his hair.

He smells amazing. All man. All mine. “Oh, fuck, Lucy,” he growls, ripping out from under my hold and smashing his lips to mine.

He dominates my mouth, sucking all the air from my lungs as he kisses me with unrestrained passion. I match his hunger, our tongues sparring as I want to consume him whole. He’s everywhere, but it’s not close enough. I climb up his body, angling my face to deepen our kiss, and when he circles my tongue with his, my whimpers rush into him.

He kisses me within an inch of my life because he unapologetically robs me of breath. We’re panting, clawing at the other, and locked this way, all I can think of is pressing our naked bodies together and joining as one.

He wraps a hand around my nape, the whiskers on his chin scraping my flesh, and it feels oh, so good. “I want you.” He licks the seam of my mouth, tasting, sampling. His desire is intoxicating.

“I want you, too.” I barely whisper because talking is the last thing I want to do. He suckles my bottom lip before parting them with his tongue.

Things are getting beyond heated, and just as I’m about to demand he take me to the barn, a loud throat clearing douses the flames licking my heated flesh. We both freeze, our eyes popping open because we know who has just witnessed our very PDA.

There is no tactful way to do this, so I slide down Saxon’s body and spin around to gingerly face Sam. The pain slashes at his downturned face, and the freedom I once felt slips away. “Sam…”

He hisses, taking a step back. “I don’t want to fight with you, Lucy.”

“I don’t either,” I reply, hands raised in surrender. I wish he’d look at me, but I understand he needs time.

I quickly swipe at my lips, wanting to wash away the evidence of my betrayal. But I stop mid stroke when Saxon’s demeanor changes, and he retreats. I’m caught in the middle once again, and that isn’t fair to anyone. So I lower my hand and suffer the consequences.

“I’m sorry for everything. I can’t take back what I did. Neither of us can. What I said to you, about you, I was wrong. Please… forgive me. I know I have no right to ask this of you, after everything I did, but I need it.”

My mouth opens and closes.

“I was just so fucking angry. I still am. Everything is just still so muddled. But you’re right. This is your home as well. It’s both of ours.” He finally lifts his eyes. He looks so tired, so drained of life. “But you’ve made your choice—” his resentment is palpable “— so I think it’ll be best if we sell… you’ve moved on, and now, it’s my turn to do the same.”

Wow.

He’s right, completely right, but I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.

“And to move on…I think a good place to start is sitting on your finger.” His gaze lands on my left hand, the hand which still wears his ring.

A gasp leaves me; not because I’m wounded, but because I’d forgotten it was still on. This ring has been a part of me for so long, it’s almost become a fixture. But he is right. I wanted to part with it the morning I woke in Saxon’s arms, but with everything that has happened, it seemed like the least of my concerns.

As I run my thumb over it, just as I’ve done countless times before, the smooth surface feels foreign and so wrong. The sunlight catches the clear diamond, a beam of light sent from above proclaiming it’s time.

With my thumb and pointer, I stroke the white gold band, admiring its beauty one final time. This represents everything that could have been, but that was a lifetime ago. Regardless, a longing hits low, and I’m suddenly powerless to slip it from my finger.

My mind is telling me to remove it, but when I do, this really comes to an end. My and Samuel’s relationship will really be over with, and a new chapter commences. I suddenly can’t breathe.

“You can keep it…”

“No,” I grit out between clenched teeth, needing a moment to catch my breath. “I don’t want it. I just…” This needs to stop. What is the matter with me? I break out into a cold sweat, the harmless ring now a manacle around my heart.

“Lucy?” Saxon’s confusion at my inability to return something that isn’t mine just adds to the weight, and I shut myself off to the world.

You don’t choose love…it chooses you.

My mom’s words ricochet loudly, and the mayhem slowly clears. If I didn’t feel some sense of loss returning this, then I would question my feelings for Sam. I would also question my morals. When he gave it to me, I was so in love with him. It signified everything I thought I wanted, but now, it just highlights how things have changed.

Change is never easy, and one of the hardest things in life is letting go…but when I let go of what I am, I become what I might be. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and say goodbye to the person I once was.

When the ring slips from my finger, an invisible weight lifts from my shoulders, and I smile. Something so monumental has never looked so small as I hold it out in front of me.

I gaze at Sam through the band. A circle never has an end, but we do. “Here.” He almost looks disappointed, but I quash down such foolishness.

He finally reaches for it, slipping it into his back pocket. “I’m going to stay with Mom…until we figure out what to do.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I’m surprised when Saxon speaks the words I was just about to say. “I’ll leave. Stay in a hotel until you sort out your business.”

My stomach drops at the thought as I don’t want him to go anywhere. I know he’ll eventually have to return to Oregon to figure out what comes next, but I was hoping I’d be going with him.

“Lucy looks as happy with that suggestion as you do. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

The fact Saxon and Sam are semi civil proves we can all co-exist. It’s not going to be easy, but this is Sam’s home as much as it is mine. I can’t just kick him out. “No one is going anywhere,” I state firmly. Both brothers look at me, not hiding their surprise. “It’s a big house. I’m sure we can all live under the same roof and not kill one another.” Saxon cocks a disbelieving brow, but I ignore him. “So what do you say?”

Sam seems to ponder my proposal while Saxon’s face remains stoic. “As long as you’re sure. It’ll beat living with Mom.”

“I’m sure,” I reply without pause, the first ray of hope that this might actually work shining brightly. “We’re all adults.”

“Sax?” Sam is waving a white flag. I can only hope Saxon sees reason because this is as good as it’ll get.

When he hesitates, arms folded over his broad chest, weighing up the possibility of us all cohabitating, I can’t help but reach for his hand. “Please,” I softly beg, imploring he do this because this is the compromise where everyone wins.

Just when I think this is a losing battle, he surprises me and cements why I love him so. “Okay. Fine.”

“Thank you.” I throw myself into his arms, pieces of my heart slowly coming together.

He hugs me stiffly, and although this situation is far from ideal, it’s the only way I can begin to move on. I promised never to abandon Sam, and him leaving would feel like a complete cop-out. Like we took the easy way out. I don’t expect us to be one big happy family, but this will work—I will make sure of it.

I will work hard to pay off my debt, to chip away at my guilt in any way I can. And this right here is a good start.

“I’ll call Mom then. Tell her I’m staying.” Saxon hardens beneath me, but he doesn’t say a word.

When Sam’s footsteps retreat, hinting that we’re alone, I pull from Saxon’s embrace, peering up at him. His clenched jaw reveals he’s pissed off. “I know.” I sigh. “But what was I supposed to do? I can’t throw him out of his own home.”

“I offered to leave,” he rebukes, lips pulled tight.

“That’s not an option either. I don’t want you going anywhere.” I reach for both his hands. “I’m sorry I asked this of you, but I can’t see any other way where I can live with my decision and not be riddled with guilt.” He exhales deeply. “Please don’t be angry with me. It’s only for a short while. I’ll look for a realtor first thing in the morning.”

“Okay, Lucy.” I squeeze his fingers in gratitude because even though he’s just agreed, I make no mistake in believing he’s happy with this situation.

I know this seems like me having my cake and eating it as well, but I meant it when I said I don’t think I can live with myself if I just turned my back on Sam. I’m sure he’ll keep out of our hair, and us out of his.

This will work, I repeat to myself. It has to.

I wake to an empty bed.

After we decided we could all cohabitate, I officially moved into the guest bedroom with Saxon. I tried to ignore the weirdness that Sam’s room, our old bedroom, was just down the hall because if we were doing this, then we had to act as normal as we could.

After moving in a few things, I was spent, and my afternoon nap turned into a full-blown siesta. Reaching for my cell off the nightstand, I see that it’s just after eleven p.m. The untouched space beside me indicates I have once again slept alone.

I know Saxon is still angry with me, and I have no doubt our arrangement will take some getting used to. But I can only hope that now we’ve reached a compromise, we can attempt to live under the same roof. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I have to try.

Stretching, I decide to find Saxon because I want to ensure he’s all right. He was awfully quiet when I was unpacking my things. I just figured he was deep in thought, but the fact he’s MIA has me thinking there’s something more.

I tiptoe down the dark hallway, no lights or gentle hue from the TV shining to light my path. The house feels empty, and I wonder if maybe I’m alone. I wouldn’t blame them if they needed to get out and clear their heads. Our lives have been thrown into turmoil, and everything has changed.

Just as I turn to enter the kitchen, I see an ember glow brightly from the front porch. My heart skips a beat, excited that he’s still here. Opening the front door, I peer around the doorjamb to find Saxon sitting in the rocking chair, lost in thought.

He takes a drag from a cigarette, his gaze focused ahead. I suddenly feel like I’m encroaching on a private moment, so I take a step backward to go back inside. But he’s already aware of my presence. “Hey.”

I’m thankful he’s still speaking to me. “Hey.” I close the door behind me, the wooden deck creaking beneath my bare feet as I take a seat in the matching chair beside Saxon.

When I lay eyes on the sight before me, I can see why Saxon seems so spellbound by the horizon. It’s so beautiful out here. Our land extends for miles, and on still, quiet evenings such as tonight, one can be forgiven for believing they’re the only being to exist.

I really will miss this place. It’s been my home for so long. But home is where the heart is, and my heart is sitting beside me. “Are you still mad at me?” I don’t see the point in sugarcoating it.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he continues staring ahead. I won’t push. I’ve done enough of that today. “No, I’m not mad,” he finally replies, taking a hit of nicotine.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Actions speak a lot louder than words, and right now, I’m locked out in the cold. I’ll give him all the time he needs because he did the same for me.

The waiting is making me nervous, though, so I help myself to his packet of Marlboros sitting on the arm of his chair. I can count how many cigarettes I’ve ever smoked on one hand, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and I need something to do with my hands.

The moment I inhale, I cough loudly, but the nicotine calms the nerves. Saxon finally makes eye contact, and when he does, I feel like I can breathe again even though I’m wheezing through a nicotine cloud. “How about you leave the bad stuff to me?”

When he reaches for my smoke, I evade his advances and puff harder. “I know you think I’m a good girl, but I’m not.”

A grin tugs at his lips. “Oh, I know you can be bad, but you can’t help being good, Lucy. It’s who you are.”

There is a double meaning behind his words, and I have no doubt he’s talking about today. “What was I supposed to do? Kick him out of his own house? Throw him out on the streets?”

He scoffs, his mood instantly souring. “He’d hardly be on the streets.”

“Living with your mom is just as bad. Maybe even worse. You know that,” I counter. I put out the smoke because it’s making me queasier than I already feel. So much for living on the wild side.

He rocks backward and forward, finishing his cigarette before he speaks again. “I don’t trust him. He’s working an angle.”

“What?” I question, incredulous. “You’re just being paranoid. I don’t blame you,” I quickly add when he reaches for another smoke.

He lights it, takes a hit, and blows out a puff of smoke. “He gave up too quickly. I know my brother. Something is up.”

“Maybe he just wants to move on like we do?” I offer, not wanting to believe there’s any truth to what Saxon says.

But of course, he disagrees. “You always see the good in people.”

“Because I refuse to live in a world where all I focus on is the bad. I lived that life, and it was fucking horrible. I’ll never go back there again.”

“That’s where you and I differ. I’m a realist while you…” He soon seals his lips shut when I turn in my chair, raising a brow.

“I’m a what? A dreamer? A hopeless romantic who wants her happily ever after?” I bite, my temper rising to the surface.

“I don’t want to argue. Not over him.” He runs a hand through his hair while I can’t mask my horror.

“Him? He is your brother, in case you’ve forgotten.” I shoot up, the chair rocking with the momentum. “The person you told me to go to. You do remember that, don’t you? In the barn, you told me to go after him because you would never forgive yourself if he hurt himself because of us.”

He raises his face upward and sighs. We’re all emotionally drained, and with the mood I’m in, I’m bound to pick a fight. But I can’t let this go before telling him how I feel.

“Well, I won’t turn my back on him. This isn’t forever. But you and me—” I gesture two fingers between us “—we are…well, I thought we were. But if we can’t get past this, then maybe forever comes with an expiration date. I’m going to bed.” I don’t wait for a reply because I don’t want one.

Marching down the hall, I decide to shower and wash this disgusting mood from my body. Once in the bathroom, I strip off and turn the faucet to hot. Although I’m in a rage, I can’t stop shaking, and the constant chill won’t thaw from my bones.

The water feels divine, tiny fingers kneading the knots from my tired muscles. I wish I could do the same for the knots within. Groaning, I place my hands on the tiles and stand beneath the spray. I overreacted, I know that, but I’m just so tired of feeling scared and exhausted all the time.

I want my normal back because when does this end?

I owe Saxon an apology. I had no right to take my frustrations out on him. All he’s ever done is stand by me, and all I seem to do is hurt him. Reaching for the vanilla soap, I lather up a foam and begin to wash away the sins tattooed on my skin.

The thought has images of Saxon naked and wet flashing before my eyes. The way I just behaved, I’ll be lucky if I see him in all his glory ever again. Cursing my foolishness under my breath, I continue washing, anxious to make peace with my man.

A thick, misty cloud of vanilla smelling goodness surrounds me in the shower, so when I feel the gentlest of touches against my back, I yelp, realizing I’m no longer alone.

“I’m trying my best.” My prayers have been answered because standing behind me is Saxon. His sincerity instantly extinguishes my anger, and I melt into his touch. “We are forever, Lucy. I’m sorry for making you think we weren’t.” His naked body presses against mine, and the stars align. “Forgive me?”

My eyes droop to half-mast. “Only if you forgive me for being a stubborn dreamer.”

He wraps his arm low around my waist. “I love that about you. Always seeing the good in people. Makes me think there’s hope for me yet.”

“Don’t say that. You are good. That’s why I love you.” I arch into him, the feel of his length hardening against me too good to be true. I don’t even worry about my scars because with Saxon, I forget they’re there.

The warm spray bounces off my front, and with Saxon at my back, I can’t help the moan which slips past my lips. The sound seems to excite him because he hums low, softly nipping at the side of my throat.

His hardened chest is still crushed against me as he reaches for the soap and lathers my slick flesh with the suds. He massages his fingers along the slope of my neck, the delicious pressure beyond words. He pays the same attention to my upper chest before slipping downward and gently caressing my breasts.

The soapy bubbles make his hands slippery, which only seems to heighten my already aroused state. My nipples pebble, and he growls. Taking my breasts into his hands, he circles my right areola. “Oh, god,” I whimper, arching backward, unable to stop myself as I rub against his titan erection.

He hisses but continues the task at hand as he lathers his way down to my stomach. My skin is red hot. He runs loops over my flesh, gliding to my ribs, before swooping downward and washing low on my stomach, over my navel. He tracks his finger around the edges, biting my neck when I groan.

I am so turned on right now, but when he dips lower and soaps my mound, an untamed cry unites with the thrashing water. I spread my legs, an automatic response to having him so near my sex. He grunts in approval, stroking my entrance with three fingers.

The lubrication of the soap just adds to my own, and if he doesn’t do something more in the next five seconds, I just might die. He reads my desperation and licks away the spray gathering along the rise of my neck as he sinks one delicious finger into my heat.

I jolt—partly in shock, the other in need. While that feels incredible, I want more. I need more.

Reaching behind, I grasp his impressive girth and begin moving my hand. He’s hot, heavy, and my god, I want him all over me. He growls but never ceases his delectable intrusion below. He adds another finger, stretching, testing my limits, but I’m ready.

He’s everywhere. His mouth is on my pulse, suckling and nipping. His fingers are working me into a frenzy as he tunnels deeper, then thumbs over my needy center. With his right hand driving me into a fever, he uses his left to massage my breasts, flicking over my budding nipples. I’m going to explode.

“Saxon,” I cry, quivering. It’s almost too much.

He pays no heed to my demands. Instead, he increases the strokes, pumping his fingers with vigorous speed. Each cavernous stroke is the money shot, and I undulate, ready to come. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against my throat.

“S-so are you,” I manage to push out between erratic breaths. “Now, please…fuck me.” God forgive me for such a dirty mouth, but I need to show him that good girls can also be bad. And right now, I want to be downright depraved.

He hisses, ripping his fingers from my heat before turning me around so quickly, I see stars. He lifts me up and slams my back against the wall. Our mouths frantically lock. He nudges my entrance, and I know what he’s asking. To answer his question, I lower my hips and sluggishly take him inside. Our lips break apart, a moan slipping from us both. Flesh upon flesh.

He doesn’t move an inch, allowing my muscles to accommodate his size. He searches my face, and my god, he is so exquisite. His wet hair appears a honeyed brown, and brushed back, it highlights his epic features. His lips are parted, heavy breaths caressing my cheeks.

He’s imbedded deep, and it feels beyond incredible. “I love you, little Lucy Tucker.” I don’t have a chance to reply because he bends forward and takes my mouth, finally moving his hips. I hold on tight because I know this isn’t going to be slow.

He places his hands low on my waist and drives upward, bouncing me on his lap. This angle hits all the right spots, and I scream. The sheer strength he displays to hold me up and still manage to drive into me over and over again is an aphrodisiac within itself.

I lock my legs around the small of his back and clench, relishing in the tight fit. “Oh, fuck,” Saxon groans, increasing the rhythm.

He is an absolute beast, and the noises slipping past his pink lips have the bundle of nerves uncoiling within. Unable to help myself, I peer down at where we’re joined and watch, utterly mesmerized as I witness us becoming one.

“See that?” he grunts, bucking into me faster, harder. “It’s yours. You own every part of me.” I know he’s talking in the emotional sense because this isn’t just a physical connection—it’s an all-consuming need to be together forever. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. Always.” He slides in deep, rubbing against my G-spot with each stroke, and I find it almost impossible not to come undone. “Are you okay?” I nod, biting my lip because he’s so well endowed.

I slide up the wall with each thrust, my breasts swinging from the force. Saxon growls, taking one in his mouth. I engage my core and slam onto him, impaling myself, which has him cursing in delight. Before I know it, I’m plunging on his length, bowing, swallowing him whole.

He slides a hand down between my breasts to the junction between my legs. He strokes my engorged clit, which rips a cry from my chest. He continues pumping into me while pinching my center, and before I know it, I’m screaming out his name.

I’m spent, but Saxon just smirks, pulling out and spinning me around. He gently kicks my feet apart before thrusting back into me. I slump forward, ass poised high in the air, using the wall as my support. He grips my hips as he pistons into me, plummeting into me over and over again.

The feral grunts and slapping of our ripened flesh have me desperate to come again. His fingers bite into my hips, but the sting is everything I want—it makes me feel alive. I buck backward, meeting him stroke for stroke. The vigor brings tears to my eyes.

“I love you,” he repeats over and over, his tempo almost punishing.

“I love you!” I cry, hands splayed on the tiles, afraid I’ll tumble into a well-satiated heap.

“Forever,” he grunts before an untamed rumble fills the air, and he quickly pulls out.

My body is shaking with the force, and even though I’m still worked up, I’m more than happy to stop. But Saxon won’t have that. With a ragged breath, he scoops a hand around my belly and turns me around.

Oh god, his cheeks are flushed, his sun-kissed skin taut and rippling. I want to eat him alive. “What…?” I don’t have a chance to finish because he drops to his knees, reading my mind because he intends on eating me alive.

“Worshiping a goddess,” he replies, before planting his face between my legs and making good on his word.

Namaste.