Page 111 of When We Burn

“Because I’m happy. That’s all. Are you ready to help me put these other apples into jars?”

“Yes, but when do we get to eat it?”

Mama reaches for a fresh batch of jars. “When we’re finished working, we reward ourselves with a treat. We have to earn it.”

“I’ve earned an extra treat,” Birdie says, making me smile.

“You’re my treat,” I inform her and kiss the top of her head.

When I turn around, I find Bridger leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, watching us with a soft smile on that gorgeous face.

“I didn’t know you were there.”

“I know.” He saunters over and leans down to kiss me before planting his lips by my ear. “You’remytreat, kitten.”

“Heard that, did you?”

“I heard a lot.”

“It snowed!”

It’s Sunday morning, and Birdie has just jumped on the bed, waking Bridger and me up.

“Get up! Get up! There’s snowoutside!”

“You’re killing me, peanut,” Bridger growls. “I got home at three this morning.”

But Birdie doesn’t answer. She just runs off, and I drag my hands down my face.

“First snow of the year. Did you have to drive home in it?” Reaching over, I drag my hand down Bridger’s arm, over that colorful ink, enjoying his warmth.

“Yeah.” He stretches, then reaches out for me and tugs me against him, so I snuggle down and rest my head on his chest. “It won’t stay long. It’s only early November.”

I sigh and breathe him in. “How do you feel about pancakes with the apple butter we made last month?”

How has it already been a month since we went to the apple orchard? Time is flying by. Before long, the holidays will be here.

“I feel very fondly about that idea.” He kisses my head, then tips my chin up so he can place a kiss on my lips. “Thank you.”

“It’s just breakfast.”

“One that I don’t have to cook, so I’m grateful.”

My phone buzzes on the table behind me, and I frown. “I have no idea who could be messaging me at this time of the day.”

“Check it.” He kisses me again, sending a thrill down my spine, and I turn to get my phone.

Bridger’s hand is planted on my ass. It makes me smirk.

He really is an ass man.

“It’s your sister.”

And she sent it to our book club group of me, Alex, Bee, Skyla, and Millie. We like to chat about what we’re reading, even when we’re not at the book club.

Bee: SOS! I repeat, SOS!

Alex: What’s wrong?

---