Page 46 of Isla

"You said you were going to move back into the house," Henry says, snagging my arm as I turn toward the path.

"It's late. I'm exhausted. All my stuff is in the cottage."

He tips my chin up to him, studying my face. "Are you saying you need alone time or that you're too tired to move your things?"

"The latter." I cover my mouth to hide a yawn.

"Go in the house and get comfortable. We'll take care of it." I'm too tired to argue, so I just kiss his cheek and head inside, collapsing on the couch. I wake hours later, sunlight streaming through the window, the smell of bacon making my stomach grumble. I yawn and stretch, untwisting the blanket from my legs as I sit up.

"Morning, Freckles."

Dylan is sitting in a chair opposite me, bathed in a golden glow, wearing sweats and a worn T-shirt. "Were you watching me sleep?"

"How could I not?" he asks, like there’s nowhere in the world he’d rather be.

I cover my face with my hands, hiding my smile under the guise of rubbing my eyes. Is this real? A real full-blown committed relationship? Times three? The girl inside me wants to squeal and kick her feet.

"Don't hide." Dylan peels my hands away from my face, framing my face, those expressive brown eyes drawing me in. He traces the edge of my lower lip with his thumb. "Jack came over this morning and talked with us."

I pull back, studying his face. "He what?"

Dylan grimaces. "First, he told us to 'never fucking do that to you again.' Then he told us we better run the pub to the same standards you did, that he wasn’t going to watch all of your hard work go down the drain. And third, since we're not bartering labor anymore, he said he’ll pay us if we agree to continue working on the castle."

"And what did the three of you say?"

"We agreed. Jack said that with the baby coming soon, he'll be stepping back and letting us finish. Which gives us a little more flexibility in scheduling."

"Well, that works out perfectly, doesn't it?" It feels so good to have all the pieces falling into place.

"It does, and it also gives us time to help you build out your brewery."

My heart jumps in my chest, something in me stirring, ready to create something new. "You guys would do that?"

"Of course we would, Isla."

"Breakfast is ready," Theo calls from the kitchen. "Someone go wake Henry up."

"I'll get him." I jump up, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders, and head to his room. I stop in the doorway, completely enamored with the dark curls falling over his forehead, the dark crescent of lashes against his cheek, the cleft in his chin. He reaches out thesecond my knee sinks into the bed, pulling me down against his body and burying his face in my hair.

"We should have moved your things into my room," he murmurs, sleep making his voice deliciously raspy. "We could wake up like this every morning."

A steady throb takes up residence between my legs as his hand sweeps over my stomach. There's just something about him. Raw need bound in flesh and bone. A real-life incubus that's impossible to resist. I bite back a gasp as he slides his hand over my breast, his groan like the burn of pure-grain alcohol, licking at my nerve endings.

"Breakfast is ready," I stammer.

"Give me thirty seconds to get you there, and then we can go down to eat."

"What?" I squeak, trying to turn in his arms. He holds me in place, tracing along my waistband with his fingers.

"Please, Isla." The growl of his voice has my legs opening. "That's my girl," he breathes, slipping his hand into my shorts and dragging his middle finger along my slit. I push my hips into his hand, need rising like a tsunami. He centers his fingers over my clit, rolling it under his fingertips.

"Oh god," I moan, arching my back, as he slides his other hand up to my tits.

"If it's my hands on you, you better be calling my name, Isla," he growls. He slides two fingers into me, pushing deep. "This has nothing to do with any god. It's me your pussy’s weeping for."

I choke back a sob as he works his fingers in me, the heel of his palm rocking back and forth over my clit. "Fuck, Henry," I moan, writhing against him, needing more. Needing all of him. I press my ass against his cock, desperate for him to be in me. I reach back, sliding my hand over him and squeezing.

"You're playing with fire, Red."

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