Page 105 of Fragile Heart

“Ethan, please,” she whispers. “Oh God. I’m so close already.”

Good. I can’t resist smirking as I pull on her nipple. She clenches around me, and her hips falter. I take over, fucking up into her until she cries out, her head tipping back and exposing her throat. I run my tongue up it, ignoring that base need to sink my teeth into the delicate skin and claim her.

The thought alone is enough to send me over the edge. I come on a ragged curse, and then my knot has us locked together. She screams, so loud her voice breaks, as a second orgasm rips through her body before the first has even subsided. She collapses against me, her forehead pressing into my shoulder, as we both try to catch our breath.

“I think I like Coeur d’Alene,” she whispers.

I can’t help but laugh.

Chapter Forty-Six

BRIELLE

The house is quiet when I crawl out of Caleb’s bed and put on one of his sweaters. It hangs nearly to my knees, and I have to shove the sleeves up to my elbows to keep them from swallowing my hands entirely. But it smells like cinnamon and the cedar undertones of his aftershave. I breathe in the combination.

Lavender bleeds out from me, but I ignore it.

Caleb stirs, his hand reaching out for where I’d been only a moment before. I freeze but blow out my breath when he relaxes back into the pillows. My stomach growls, and I cross the house, closing his door without letting the door click shut.

The kitchen is quiet, too, as I start my electric kettle and spread cream cheese over a bagel. A mug of warm tea in my hands, I lean against the island counter and watch the pair of finches that have been in the closest tree the last few mornings since I’ve been officially moved in. After a few minutes, one bravely lands on the new bird feeder Camden and I put on the window above the sink yesterday. Officially, Caleb was watchinghim. But he’d hung out on the back porch and let the two of us mostly do our own thing.

The finch sifts through the seed, dropping a few pieces to the ground, and then takes off. I sip my tea. Unease sits low in my belly, but I can’t quite figure out why. Moving in had been easy, even easier than moving into Emily’s guest house. Caleb had enlisted the help of his dad, Mark, and between the two of them, every single piece I’ve purchased since being in Creek Falls was safely stashed away in Caleb’s closet and room and bathroom. A few of my pillows stayed behind as well as a couple decorations since Emily was fine with me keeping the guest house set up as a nest of sorts.

Not that I’ll really need it for a while. Heats only happen every six months.

Camden was beside himself when he realized what was happening. He’s been glued to my side for the last three days, walking me through every nook and cranny of the house, showing me his favorite places to draw and read and build forts. Being with Caleb every night? A woman’s dream come true, honestly.

And yet… I take another bite of bagel in the hopes it makes the turbulent roiling settle.

Footsteps echo down the hallway. I palm my mug, holding it in both hands in front of my belly, almost like it’s a shield. Ethan pads into the room and heads straight for the coffee bar. His hand brushes my hip as he passes me, though he doesn’t offer a greeting. Mint follows him, and I breathe it in, letting it soothe the worry that’s become my companion since the surprise family date to Coeur d’Alene.

It feels wrong that I’m worried at all, though.

If moving in had been seamless, living here is… not quite perfect. But more natural than I’d expected. There’s always an awkwardness in the beginning, you adjusting to the other personwhile they’re doing the same with you. There’s been hardly any of that, though, with the Taylors.

I focus on Ethan over the rim of my own mug, watching as he pulls down a travel cup and fills it with coffee and a small amount of milk. His eyes are tired, the dark circles not quite gone from the stress that was my heat last week. His beard isn’t as groomed, either, longer than he typically wears it and the edges not cleaned up. It’s enough to mostly hide his frown—a frown so deep, it’s practically etched into his face, the small lines around his mouth becoming more permanent every day.

I haven’t seen him smile once since…

I think back, and the worry tightens again. He hasn’t smiled at me once.

Suddenly, the worry and the unease make sense.

I’d lived with Brett for eight years, had been married to him for nearly seven. But for the last few of those, it had felt like we’d been more roommates than partners, orbiting around each other and only occasionally meeting in the middle.

This… whatever this is between Ethan and me has the same feeling, like we’re circling each other and only sometimes are near enough to touch, to talk, to have a sense or semblance of any kind of intimacy.

Ethan glances up, his frown even deeper.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice nothing short of a growl.

Oh shit. It’s me whining like that. I swallow the sound and shake my head.

“I’m fine,” I say.

Bringing up the mess inside my head when he’s getting ready to work the cattle all day is asinine in the extreme. And it’s probably just all in my head, anyway. Ethan’s never been quick to words, but his actions have always spoken loud enough.

Even now, he closes the distance between us, his coffee forgotten in favor of cupping my face and tilting it to keep mygaze on his. His eyes search mine. Whatever he sees has his mouth tightening. He drops an arm to my waist and lifts me onto the counter, easing between my legs. He pulls the mug from my hands and sets it behind me.

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