Page 72 of Finding Gideon
Gideon slowed, eyes snagging on a high branch. “That one,” he said, pointing. “It’s perfect.”
I followed his finger—deep red, smooth skin, hanging just out of easy reach. “You going for it?”
He glanced around, spotted a ladder leaning against the next tree over. “Guess I am.”
While I stayed with the basket, he dragged the ladder over, propped it in place, and started up. His movements were casual at first—a hand here, a boot there—but once he reached the middle rungs, the ladder gave a small wobble. He stilled, one hand braced on the trunk.
“You good?” I called.
“I’m fine,” he said, stretching toward the apple. “Almost?—”
The ladder shifted again. He cursed under his breath and grabbed the branch with one hand to steady himself. That’s when his foot slipped. Not enough to send him tumbling,but enough that my instincts had me stepping in fast, hands catching his hips.
“I’ve got you,” I said, voice low.
He glanced down, and the grin he gave me was quick and crooked—the kind that made my pulse skip. “I know.”
He plucked the apple, then started down. The last rung betrayed him, shifting just enough to throw him forward. He twisted instinctively, turning toward me as he lost his footing.
I caught him against my chest, his front colliding with mine. The apple was trapped between us, cool and round, while the rest of him pressed warm and solid into me.
For a moment, neither of us moved. His breath brushed my cheek. Mine caught in my throat.
“Guess I owe you,” he murmured.
“Guess you do,” I said, but I didn’t loosen my hold.
He tilted his face up, close enough that I could feel the heat of his mouth. There was no hesitation—not with us. My hand slid to the back of his neck, fingers curling into his hair, and I kissed him hard.
It wasn’t a polite orchard kiss. It was hungry, all heat and teeth and the soft sound he made when I deepened it. His free hand fisted in the front of my shirt, dragging me closer until his body lined up against mine, until the apple slipped between us and hit the ground with a dull thud.
My tongue swept into his mouth, tasting sugar and coffee, the kind of mix that made my stomach twist with want. His hips pressed forward, slow and deliberate, and there it was—the hard press of him against me. The friction shot straight through me, my own arousal answering instantly, thick and insistent.
I groaned into his mouth, fingers fisting in his shirt to keep him close, like I could pull him into me completely. He pushed back just as firmly, a subtle roll of his hips that made my pulsestutter. The kiss turned hungrier, our mouths dragging against each other in wet, urgent pulls.
His hand slid down my side, over my hip, and settled at the curve of my ass, gripping enough to make my knees threaten to give. I wanted to haul him against me and grind until we both came right there under the apple tree. The thought alone made me harder.
“Malcolm…” he breathed into my mouth, low and wrecked, the sound itself a confession.
The world narrowed to the heat between us, the press of him, the slow grind of our hips finding a rhythm that had no business existing in an open orchard. My hand slid to the back of his neck, holding him there, my thumb brushing the soft, damp skin at his hairline. He was hard against me, and I wanted him closer—closer than close.
A flicker of movement cut through the haze—small, quick, a pulse of brown fur that froze near the clover at the base of a tree.
We broke apart, but barely, breath still mingling. My body was thrumming, my skin still alive with the echo of his hands, his mouth. The sharp edge of want hadn’t gone anywhere; it was just pressed to the side, simmering.
“An Eastern cottontail,” I said, my voice a little rough.
Gideon tilted his head toward it, still a little flushed. “Cute. How do you always know this stuff?”
“I went to vet school,” I said, forcing my focus away from the pulse between my legs. “They kind of expect you to learn this stuff.”
He grinned, eyes still bright with thatI was just kissing you like I meant itheat. “Right, right. Professional genius. I forgot.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Maybe I just like hearing you say it.”
The rabbit twitched once, then disappeared into the underbrush. Gideon kept watching the spot where it had been,and the quiet wrapped around us again—not awkward, but settled. Like the orchard itself had taken a breath with us.
