Page 114 of Strike Zone

“I would do anything for you,” I say earnestly. My legs drop to the ground. Before I can walk away, he grabs my face and kisses me again.

“Tell me you’re here to stay.” He leans his forehead against mine.

“I’m here to stay,” I whisper.

“My girl is home! Birdie’s home!” he shouts, spinning me around until I’m giggling. My feet land on solid ground and we run back to the house.

He grabs my bags off the porch and takes them in the house. “Everyone is out working, but I’ll send them a text. I’m afraid I’m going to have to add you to the family chat now that you’re home for good.” He looks at me. “I’ll never get tired of saying that.”

I unzip my suitcase and start unpacking. “Add me if you have to, but I’m putting it on mute. If it’s an emergency, they will need to text me separately. I’m not going to read through a hundred messages to find out someone got hurt or something.”

“God, I missed you. Everyone’s too nice around here. I’ve missed this mouth.” He leans down and kisses me quickly. “Let me help you unpack so we can take advantage of the house being empty.” He thrusts his hips a few times in the air. God, he’s ridiculous but he’s mine.

“Baby, why is my shirt on your pillow?” He holds up my lifeline while I was in Georgia.

“Actually, that’s my shirt. And that isn’t a pillow. It’s Wyatt Wallen. I slept with him every night. He smells like you.” I give the pillow stuffed inside Wyatt’s, I mean my, Wallen T-shirt a hug and then throw it in the middle of the bed.

“It’s definitely my shirt. You were with me when I bought it,” he says. I wave him off. “I’ll let you keep it, but you have to take it off the pillow. That’s just weird.”

“Wyatt Wallen was the only way I was able to sleep.” I frown.

“Now you’ve got the real thing. You don’t need it anymore. I can’t promise I’m going to let you sleep much tonight though.” He wraps himself around me from behind, pressing his erection into my ass.

“I should fucking hope not,” I say, making him chuckle.

“Enough unpacking for now.” He flips me around and throws me over his shoulder. “If I don’t have you naked in the next ten seconds, I’m going to lose it.”

It feels good to be home, I think, as I strip my man naked and spend the next few hours familiarizing myself with his body again.

30

WYATT

I’ve barely let Wren out of my sight since she got here a week ago—I’ve stuck to her like glue. The only time we’ve been apart is when Willow kidnapped her and took her into town. Otherwise, she’s always within reach.

I still can’t believe she’s here some days. I wake up in the morning and think I’m still dreaming. But she’s there in the flesh, sleeping away in my arms.

“Do you know what this is about?” Mason asks from his seat across from me at the kitchen table.

“No idea. Dad and Mama said they needed to talk to us about something and called a house meeting.” I absentmindedly pull at the strings on Wren’s shorts. There’s something calming about it. To me at least, Wren is squirming in her seat, rubbing her thighs together. I snicker at her and she sends a glare back my way.

“We haven’t had one of these since Colt accidentally drove Ford’s truck into the barn. That was over ten years ago,” Willow says.

“No. I remember having a house meeting when Willow was sixteen and was dating that little twerp Eric,” Ford says, shaking his head. “He was terrible. I don’t know what you saw in him.”

“We all can’t get it right the first time like Wyatt. You should know that better than anyone, Ford,” she says, rolling her eyes. “And that meeting doesn’t count because it was just the four of you. It was an ambush of the brotherly kind.”

“Did Mama mention anything to you on one of your walks?” I ask Wren. The two of them have been very buddy buddy walking all over the property.

“No. She hasn’t mentioned anything new.”

I eye her suspiciously. She doesn’t appear to be lying, but I’m not convinced she’s telling me the whole truth. Wren knows something.

“Is everyone here?” Dad asks, walking into the kitchen. He hobbles around the table with his cane, giving everyone a kiss on the head. I’m waiting for him to shout ‘goose’ and make a run for it.

“We’re all here. You going to tell us what this is all about?” Colt asks before taking a bite of the sandwich in front of him.

Dad and Mama exchange glances. “We sold the farm,” Mama says, clutching hard to the stack of papers in her arms.

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