Page 93 of Just My Ex

Quinn

Henry’s lips, his skin, his hands—that’s all that matters.

His musky, leather scent from his shaving cream and the dampness still rolling off his skin have me tethered to something beyond myself, beyond the stories I tell myself.

I told myself I knew it all. I knew how to fix him. To fix us.

I think I was wrong.

Mostly.

Because now, with him, as we drown in each other’s kisses, my mind has sharpened into a strict, surprising point: We had to come apart to come together.

It was in the very act of breaking into pieces—obliterating everything we once were—that allowed us to meld and mold into something new.

Something unstoppable.

We both jump as the angry sky opens up again, but we don’t stop kissing until the next onslaught of frisson and fire erupts in the sky above us.

Panting, I ask, “Are we safe in here?” at the same moment Henry says, “Let’s get low. Hunker down.”

I nod and he lifts me in his arms only to settle me down on the straw-strewn floor, our backs against the rough-hewn wall. It’s only then that I notice a puddle forming on the floor closer to the door, the dripping of the torrential rain through the old roof a steady, urgent drumbeat.

“On second thought, we could get washed out.” I point to the loft on the other side of the barn. “Maybe we should go up there.

“We’re safe here for now. There’s an open window up there and I have no way of blocking out the water anyway.”

I cock a brow. “Is this going to be our new home for a while? Should we set up a homestead?”

He chuckles, his gaze dipping to my lips a moment. “I’d love nothing more.”

“You sure Farmer Gary won’t mind us hanging out here for a little while?”

“He might get cranky about it, but I don’t really care.”

“Look at you, being all bad and everything.” I playfully push against his shoulder.

He gives the barest of eyerolls. “I’m guessing the electrical storm will stop soon, so we can leave then.”

I mosey in closer to him with my shoulder. “I’m in no hurry, King Henry.”

His intake of breath, a sound of wonder, makes me shiver. “I love you,” he says simply. Like he’s stating the truest of all truths.

“I love you,” I say but my voice falters and I swivel around to better resume our kissing.

His mouth transports me to heavenly places once again and my mind starts to wonder exactly how a couple could, hypotheticallyhomesteadhere in this barn, under the cover of dark clouds and pelting rain.

As we kiss, a huff of putrid breath is hot on my shoulder behind me, and I scream and jump from off my bent knees and into Henry’s lap.

“Shhh shh,” he whispers, anchoring me with his hands on my waist. “It’s just Maverick.”

I gasp and turn to look through cautious, narrowed eyes. Sure enough, Maverick’s enormous, thick, stubby snout is having a field day taking us in.

“He likes you,” Henry insists. “Don’t you, pal?”

I catch Henry’s lips in mine, wanting to make him forget all about Maverick. But I think it’s me who’s creeped out by him standing and breathingright here.

Once my heart rate has slowed, I climb off Henry’s lap and he gets up to secure the donkey in one of the stalls, talking to him like he’s a human child.

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