I sink into the leather backseat of my Suburban, giving my driver, Brooks, Arden’s address.

I hired Brooks soon after I left the hospital. He went to high school with my mother and father, and was a family friend then. I asked him to help me out because he was a veteran, and I knew how much he’d struggled since he left the military. He’s become not only my driver, but a trusted friend. He left his apartment and now stays in the guest house at the corner of my property.

“Brooks,” I muse as we drive. “I’m pretty sure this woman’s going to be something special to me.”

“Yeah?” I can hear the smile in Brooks’ voice. “How do you know?”

“You know how they say, ‘when you know, you just know’?”

“I’ve heard that before.” There’s a wryness to Brooks’ tone that makes me pause.

“Why didn’t you ever get married, Brooks?” I press, hoping he’ll want to answer my question.

There’s a pause. “I guess I never had that feeling. The knowing, I mean.”

I nod. “Yeah. I hadn’t either. Not until I met Arden.”

The ride to her house only takes a few minutes, and when I feel the big vehicle tug to a stop at what I know is the top of her long driveway, I open my door to climb out.

“Stay,” I instruct Nitro, who I can only imagine rests his head sadly on his paws to wait for my return.

Standing beside the car, I don’t even try to hide the grin that spreads across my face when the sound of her voice drifts toward me just after the sound of her front door clicking closed.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she chides as her voice grows closer.

I can feel her presence as it shifts toward me, smell her sweet peach scent as it rides on the cool breeze. God, my fingers itch to reach out and touch her, to grab her and pull her into my arms. And even though something definite and distinct has changed between us since that night at her house, we haven’t yet crossed that line. The line between friends and whatever else this is that’s growing between us. Eventually, it’s going to boil over and there’ll be no stopping it. My cock strains painfully against my jeans just because she’s close, my body reacting to her smell, her warmth, damn near everything about her.

But I know better. She’s not ready. And until she is, any move I make could ruin her. And I won’t be responsible for that.

Not with Arden.

I hold out a hand. “When a lady requests to go apple picking, I pick her up in style. Hop in, Bunny.”

She takes my hand and I pull her into the car, the familiarity of the make and model helping keep me steady as I pull her onto the seat beside me. We buckle in, and I angle my body toward her, so we can talk on the thirty-minute ride out into the country, where the apple orchard sits on unspoiled land.

“This is going to be a new experience for me,” I warn as we walk onto the property of the orchard. Nitro’s harness is held securely in one hand while I rest the other on the delicate curve of Arden’s lower back. The natural spicy aroma of the orchard is somehow enhanced by the fact that Thanksgiving is less than a week away, like the impending holidays carry a scent all their own. The crisp, cool air forced me to pull on a vest over my thermal this morning, and as my hand strokes Arden’s back, I can feel that she’s wearing a flannel shirt.

Stopping her mid-stride, I turn her to face me. My sunglasses most likely reflecting the light of the mid-morning sun, I face her and pretend that I’m taking her in, that I’m seeing the whole picture of the woman in front of me.

A tremor of need runs through me as the desire to see her threatens to overwhelm me. “Tell me what you’re wearing,” I demand, my voice low and rough with the urgency I’m feeling.

Arden doesn’t even hesitate. She grabs my hands, which were already gripping her waist, and forces my palms into a slow slide up the sides of her body. Soft, soft flannel meets my burning fingers, and I swear to God, if I could touch her underneath of her shirt right now, feel the heated caress of her skin against mine right now, I’d die a blissful death.

“This,” she whispers, and I can feel the puffs of air as the words leave her lips. Something inside me calls out to her. It’s a need I can’t control and didn’t want…only now it seems I do want it. I want it more than I should, more than she could possibly handle.

She continues. “…is a red-and-black checked flannel shirt dress. Feel this?” She guides my hands back to her waist, tangling my fingers in a long piece of fabric. “It’s tied right here, and it also buttons in front.”

I swallow thickly, noticing how perfectly my big hands fit around her delicate midsection. “Yeah…I feel it, Bunny.”

The hoarse rasp of my voice tangles with the throaty whisper of hers. “And these…” She moves my hands down, down, over the perfect curve of her hips and down the outside of her toned thighs.

Jesus. I’m so fucked when it comes to this woman.

“These are black leggings.”

The soft material clings to her legs, and the urge to hook my fingers in the waist and peel them off of her is a real threat. Arden releases my hands and settles hers on top of my shoulders, sliding them up and down my arms.

“Why’d you want to know that?” she whispers, her tone just as intense as the storm churning up my insides.

“Because, Bunny…sometimes the desire to see you is more than I can handle. You, in particular. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll never again see the sun rising in the morning, the clouds drifting just outside the front windshield of my fighter jet, or the sight of a full Savannah moon hanging in that big, black nighttime sky. But the thing I haven’t accepted? Is never being able to see how beautiful I know you are. It’s fucking killing me.”

A soft intake of air escapes her as she steps closer, pressing her body against mine in a way that pulls a groan from somewhere deep inside my chest.

“Arden…” My hands crawl around to cup her ass without my permission, and she leans closer as a soft sound falls from her lips.

I’ve completely forgotten the fact that we’re at the entrance to a public orchard, and that anyone walking by right now is probably enjoying the show we’re putting on, but I can’t find the energy to give a shit. This is Arden, and I’m starting to realize that everything we’ve done up until now has led to this moment.

Her arms slide up, winding around my neck, and her sweet peach scent almost makes me sway on my feet. Then, my fingers digging into the plush skin of her hips, I give in and press my lips to hers.

I swallow a groan as the sweet taste of her lips swallows everything else. My mind, my body, all of my senses, are directed straight toward the woman standing pressed against me. Her body, soft and so fucking perfect, molds to mine as my cock stirs to full attention between us. She gasps, and I take advantage of the sound, my tongue sweeping into the hot darkness of her mouth.

Sweet. So damn sweet. Arden’s fingers thread through my hair as I deepen the kiss, needing more of her. More of this. This feeling I haven’t felt in so long, if I ever felt it at all. The intense need to taste every single part of her, like I might stop breathing if I don’t.

When she finally pulls back, electricity tangles between us, dragging and sparking what I already knew was there. My hands slide up to cup her face, my thumbs stroking soft circles on her cheekbones.

“Couldn’t hold back anymore, Bunny. I had to taste you.”

Her breath mixes with mine as the world around us slowly comes back into my consciousness.

Her voice is breathless, and sexy-as-hell laced with the need that mirrors mine. “Yeah? How did I taste?”

Like a fucking dream. The kind of dream that eventually ends when you wake up.

“You tasted perfect, Arden. Let’s go pick your apples.”

* * *

I spin, thrusting my leg forward in a roundhouse kick, just as Axel attempts a right jab to my chest. For once, I’m faster. My kick lands solidly, and Axel grunts with the force of it. We’re sparring, but my brother and I don’t take it easy on each other. We never have.

We both take a step apart, panting as we recover from our session.

“Shit,” he murmurs, and I can tell from the location of his voice that he’s leaning over, hands on his knees. “You’re fucking spry today, bro. What the hell’s up with you?”

Smirking, I turn toward the edge of the mat and retrieve my water bottle. “I was always faster than you, little brother. Just lost my bearings there for a little while. Now they’re on their way back.”

I open the cap and chug, the cool slide of liquid down my throat restoring me from the workout Axel just put me through. And, as they’ve done so many times in the past two days, my thoughts slip back to Arden.

She rocked my world with that kiss at the apple tree farm. For two damn days, I haven’t been able to think of anything other than the way her body felt pressed against mine, the soft heat of her lips as they nipped and sucked at me. She was incredible in that moment, letting go and giving in the same way I did.

And afterwards? Afterwards, we strolled through that orchard, stopping when she saw what she declared was the “perfect” tree to pick apples from. Nitro and I stood there, waiting, while she grabbed a nearby stepladder. And my hands encircled her waist, holding her securely while she reached for the top branches on that tree. According to Arden logic, that’s where the sweetest fruit grows.

“It’s Arden, you slick son-of-a-bitch. I’m not a complete moron. Haven’t seen that look on your face since…well, since. And it looks damn good on you.” Axel’s palm settles on my shoulder. “That’s my boy.”

The teasing rib in his words prickles, causing me to shake my head as I turn toward him. “Nah, man. It’s not what you think. We haven’t…not yet. This girl’s been through more than you could even imagine.”

Swallowing around the sudden emotion with a fist around my throat, I fill Axel in on exactly what Arden’s endured over the past year. He listens, and when I’m finished, there’s a beat of silence before he blows out a harsh breath.

“Damn. That’s heavy shit right there, Flash. You sure she’s ready to…move on from all that?”

I run an agitated hand over my hair and turn away from him to pace. “I don’t think she’s ever going to be able to forget. Shit, I wouldn’t want her to. She is who she is because of what happened to her, and that’s the woman I’m starting to…fuck, man. I don’t know. It’s fucked up, right? I shouldn’t even touch her. But I can’t fucking help it.”

I can hear the frown in Axel’s voice when he answers. “Why shouldn’t you touch her? You’re taking it slow, keeping her feelings at the forefront. What else is holding you back?”

I drop into a squat, resting my elbows on my knees. I can feel Nitro’s fur brushing against my legs as he sidles up beside me and licks my cheek. Emotions roil inside me, tumbling around like my chest is a blender, and I can’t get ahold of any of them.

“I’m still pretty messed up in the head, you know that, Axel. What if I’m not enough to pull her through all the things she’s dealing with? I’ve seen her completely broken, Ax. Shattered. Right there in pieces on her son’s bedroom floor. And I picked her up and brought her to bed and held her there all damn night. Never…and I mean fucking never have I been as destroyed as I felt that night. Seeing her like that? Feeling her chest heave while she sobbed? I thought I was already broken. But what I’ve been through is nothing compared to the way I felt, holding that woman in my arms as she cried for her lost husband and son.”

Ax doesn’t say anything for several long minutes. The roar of my blood pounding in my ears as I recall that night is all I can hear, and then my brother is crouching down in front of me. His hands grasp the back of my neck as he speaks intently, right in my face.

“Listen up, Flash. There’s nobody, and I mean no-fuckin’-body, who is more equipped to pull her out of the dark than you. Shit, I’ve seen a difference in you already, just from being around her. You haven’t been experiencing your rages anymore, have you?”

Slowly, I shake my head. Other than the frustration I felt the morning I woke up at Arden’s I’ve controlled my temper.

“Exactly. You’re strong enough to handle this, to help her handle it. Just be there. I’m not saying you should push for anything she’s not ready for. But you want to be there for her, don’t you?”

He’s silent while he waits for my response.

Slowly, I nod.

“Then you fucking be there for her. And all the rest can be damned. It’ll fall into place.”