Page 89 of The Hardest Part

“You’re so bad.” She swatted Billy and grinned out the window.

“You complainin’, sweet cheeks?”

“Never.” And she kissed him.

Jake followed his wife into the house he built with his brother. They could see and hear that creek from every room in the house. Billy’s vision and Justin’s sketch ultimately translated into one of the most impressive architectural features he ever could’ve imagined—their living room, a glass bridge that spanned the meandering creek, with views of Emily’s flower garden in shades of ivory, cream, and white.

He smiled and went up the stairs.

Married six weeks, and there were still some days Emily had to pinch herself to be sure she wasn’t dreaming. But then, she was living one, wasn’t she?

The summer sun kissed the mountain’s peak, bathing the sky in a beautiful display of colors, pink and orange and red. A shadow crept upward, the light fading from the hillside paddock where the horses grazed.

“Ruby,” Emily called out to the dapple gray.

The mare came, with Chaser and Blaze following along behind her. They knew what time it was, and went right into their stalls in the barn for the night, as happy in their new home as she was. And with the horses inside, Emily returned to the house to prepare for dinner and game night.

It was Billy’s idea. On Saturday nights, he and Jake went and got takeout from Harry’s—the best, and the only, place to eat in town—and they each took a turn choosing which board game to play. Scrabble was Jake’s pick for tonight.

He always wins, too, dang it.

Maybe this time she’d get lucky.

After a quick shower, Emily slipped into a pair of striped boy shorts and her cropped cotton cami. She heard footsteps fromthe kitchen, so she hurried, rubbing the body butter Shiloh made into her skin. Her latest hobby smelled delicious, like oranges and chocolate.

The footsteps faded, and suddenly, the house grew quiet. Too quiet. “Babe?”

But no one answered.

Was she hearing things now?

Figuring she must be, Emily shrugged, pulled her hair into a messy bun, and slathered vanilla gloss on her lips.

Then, she opened the ensuite door, and an arm snaked around her waist. “Gotcha.”

She screamed.

“Whoa, Emily, it’s me.” Jake held her to his bare chest and chuckled.

She held her hand to her rapidly beating heart—not laughing. “You scared me.”

“Didn’t mean to.” Grinning against her forehead, he kissed it. “Just wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you succeeded.” Giggling, she twisted his nipple. “Where’s Billy?”

“He’s coming.” His voice, dark and smoky, he walked her backward.

Her legs touched the mattress, and Jake pulled the clip from her hair. He gathered it in his hand, softly tugging as he took possession of her mouth. She allowed it, her body inching its way down to the bed.

“What about dinner?” Her lips skimmed the pulse at his neck. “And game night?”

“It’ll keep.”

He slipped the thin straps of her cami down her shoulders. With her arms trapped at her side, Jake released her breasts and nuzzled his face between the globes of supple flesh. His dick,hard as concrete in his faded blue jeans, weighed heavily on her thigh.

She shifted against him. “And this can’t?”

“No.” He kissed her nipple, leaving it with a little lick. “I need to be inside my wife.”

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