Page 122 of Break

Her breath hitches when I touch her, and my grin turns evil.

“I don’t remember,” she says distractedly. “Shouldn’t we go downstairs?”

“Probably,” I tell her, before slipping my tongue back into her mouth and rolling us over once again, settling my body between her legs. She’s taken to sleeping in our t-shirts, so when she opens her legs to wrap them around my waist, it slides up past her belly button.

Our kiss turns heated until we’re both jerked out of the moment by a loud knock at the door and Max’s voice. “Wrap it up, you two. I’m fucking hungry, and I haven’t seen you all day, dove.”

“Greedy fucker,” I mumble against her lips, making her giggle. “Come on. We’ll finish this later.”

“Promise?” she asks, warm eyes blinking up at me, full of love and need.

Pulling her close, I grip the back of her head and pull her against my chest. “I promise, love. If I could promise the moon, I would. I love you so goddamn much. You know that, right?”

She nods her head as she holds onto me tighter. “I love you too, so freaking much.”

“Let’s go downstairs. Also, someday I’m going to get you to swear again. It’s my new mission in life,” I tease her. I’ve only ever heard her swear that one time down at the station, and hearing her say something so out of character is honestly a bit of a turn-on.

Laughing at me, she climbs off the bed and pulls on a pair of leggings, keeping the over-sized t-shirt on. “We’ll see.”

Following the sway of her hips to the door, my eyes are locked on her ass until she stops and looks at me over her shoulder. “Eyes up here, buddy. Not on my ass.”

Then she runs out the door, giggling when I lunge forward to smack it. Christ, I fucking love this woman.

Epilogue

Orchards

Mina

Reaching out, I run the tip of my finger over one of the baby leaves that’s just made its full appearance this spring. A fist tightens around my heart, overcome with the knowledge thatI did this.

My loves assisted where I would allow. The three of them wanted to help me with every step, and Lord help me, there were alotof steps. Between purchasing the vacant land, setting up a business license, researching which trees would be best for this growing zone, and then choosing the variety of apple trees I wanted, it was an obscene amount of work.

But I’m here, and it’s done. Now, I get to nurture and care for every single tree I planted by hand. Two years in the making, but standing in the middle of my field, my head is level with their heights, and I feel…proud.

My smile grows as I wrap my arms around my stomach and dig my teeth into my lip to hold back my squeal of excitement.

Max has been working for the past month on a handmade, old-fashioned apple press, which he insisted on making instead of me going out and purchasing one. He refused to let me pay for the materials, wanting to gift it instead, and after a small argument, I gave in. I hired contractors to build me a small, heated barn where I can process the apples in the fall, and he’s bringing the press over today to set it up.

I doubt I’ll have many to process this year. Though there are so many buds on the branches that I think I may have underestimated how many apples these little babies could produce.

The crunching of steps over the mulch alerts me to his arrival before his scent reaches me on the breeze. He knows thatIknow he’s here, so I don’t turn around to face him just yet. I just can’t pull my eyes away from the long rows of my orchard spanning over a full acre. I’ve got five of them, but I’m going to fill the land slowly so I can try my hand at grafting next year.

Max’s warmth hits me before I feel his chest press against my back. He wraps his arms around me, one across my stomach and the other across my chest, holding onto my shoulder as he pulls me into him. Settling his chin on top of my head, he breathes me in.

“Little dove,” his deep, rumbling voice murmurs, and I shudder at the feel of having him surround me. My heart rate picks up its pace when he marginally tightens his arms. I feel enveloped. Consumed.

Loved.

Wrapping my hands around his forearm, I lean my head against the hard muscles of his chest. “What do you think?”

“I think this is incredible. Just imagine what it’ll all look like in just a few years.” I can hear the truth in his voice, so I kiss his arm between my hands in thanks.

I love that he’s not just placating me, trying to make me feel good. He truly cares. Max has always been the one to build up my ideas and ask, ‘Okay, so how do we do this, then?’ He’s the one that wanted to be involved from the very first step. I learned very quickly that he wasn’t irritated with me when I said no. He was irritated that he wasn’t allowed to be by my side while I built this orchard.

Vincent is my forever cheerleader, showing more enthusiasm for my accomplishments than I even feel. He’s the one that told me he was ‘so fucking proud’ of me for the very first time. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth swelled through me when he uttered those words. I know he loves me, but hearing those wordsdidsomething to me. It boosted me and gave me a surge of confidence that I know I can do whatever I put my mind to. It’s the faith he has in me that’s pushed me to work harder.

Ethan. My silent giant. He helped me explain to Max why I needed to do this alone. He’s always understood me, better than I understand myself, since the first day we reconnected at the police station.

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