East of Virden, Illinois

Rain Drop Farms

Abigail watched the front loader finish dropping the last bucketful of dirt on the grave. Her heart felt heavy. She’d been to far too many funerals in the past week. First Mrs. Philips, then Axel’s boss, Kyle Peters. And now Romance.

“Why did he have to shoot Romance?”

Axel slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to him. “Morty is a bitter man. He must have understood how much that horse meant to you.”

“Maybe.”

They stood there for a long while, staring at the pile of dirt. There was no rush to get back to the farmhouse because Axel had a team of Mastiff employees in there searching out the cameras that Morty admitted to placing there. She was creeped out by the idea still, but she also found herself wondering how sick a man must be to get off on watching his ex-girlfriend in her home. How many things had he seen? Had it given him any peace?

Somehow, she doubted it.

“There’s one thing about the cameras I still don’t understand, though.”

“What?”

She was quiet for a second. “Morty said that he knew we slept together. But we didn’t do . . . we didn’t actually have sex in the barn. Only in Dan Tuxli’s house.”

“Yeah.”

“How did he see us in there?”

Axel kissed the top of her head. “Maybe he’s just assuming. He was baiting you.”

But she didn’t think that was the case, and it made her deeply curious what else Morty might have been working on in the three years they’d been apart.

Axel finally took her hand and led the way back up to the house. His team was just finishing. She watched as he had a conversation with the guy in charge, but she didn’t want to know what they were saying. She’d made that clear to Axel. She didn’t want details; she just wanted the things out of her house. When the Mastiff guys were gone, he came back to her and drew her into his embrace.

“All done.”

“Camera free?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

He walked backward, pulling her toward the front door. She hadn’t stepped foot in the house since she left that night over a week ago. Damn, was it really just a week?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to go in there now, but Axel was pulling her after him, dragging her with him. And he had that look in his eye that promised a ton of pleasure.

How could she resist?

He lifted her into his arms the moment they were over the threshold, carrying her up the stairs. She laughed when he hit his head on a low beam, kissing it to make it better. The stitches had come out of his head, as had hers from her head. Her leg would heal on its own, the stitches absorbable. They were still there at the moment, but she could see they were slowly disappearing.

She was getting her wish, her body and life back. But it wasn’t quite the same, was it?

Axel lay her in the center of her own bed and tugged at her jeans, not bothering with the heavy jacket and flannel shirt she was wearing. She laughed, sitting up to pull her clothes over her head, watching as he tripped around the room, struggling to get his boots off.

“You’re addicted, you know.”

“I know.”

“Have you always had this problem?”

He cocked his head like he was trying to remember. “No,” he finally said. “I think it’s just you. I’m addicted to you.”

She could live with that.

He crawled onto the bed with her and kissed her, his lips lingering against hers. She moaned as his hand wandered the length of her body, and he touched her in all the right places. He knew just what to do, just where she longed for his touch. His fingertip against her clit, his palm against her nipple. Just the right amount of pressure, just the right level of pleasure. She tried to learn from him, tried to touch him with the same sort of consideration, but she felt like there was so much she still had to learn.

Not that he seemed terribly disappointed by her touch or her naivety.

But it was always about the moment their bodies became one when he slipped inside of her and she accepted him like he was a lost limb. She loved the feel of him, loved the way his breathing hitched when he first entered her. The idea that her body could provide him with such pleasure just made it all so much better for her, too.

They moved together slowly this time, no rush now that they’d connected the way he so desperately wanted. But then he stopped moving, his hand pushing the hair back from her face, turning her head so that they were staring into each other’s eyes.

“What?” she asked.

He bit her lip lightly, drawing the swollen, beautiful lip between his teeth. And then he kissed her gently on the tip of the nose.

“I want to be in this moment for as long as possible.”

Tears filled her eyes. She touched his face, reached up to kiss him.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, not really intending for him to hear. But he did. She could see it in his eyes, could see the conflict her words had created for him.

“I’m not good putting my emotions into words,” he said softly. “But I feel the same way.”

And then he began to move again, taking her on a ride through heaven and hell, just like his broken soul was doing to her heart.