Page 3 of Following Their Heart

“I’m glad you liked what we did,” he says, working his way from my lips to my neck. “I’m glad you like having my cock inside you.” He moves to my breasts and spends a good deal of time there. “Do you know you fell asleep that way? Joined with me? Joined with yourcholovik?”

I bite my lip. I did know. It felt naughty and decadent and more intimate than anything I’ve ever experienced before. I nod in answer to his question. “I like being joined with you.”

“Then we shall be joined often,” he vows, and he spends the next hour keeping that promise.

I’m in a pleasure-induced haze when Grim and I finally exit his camper. He leaves me with a long kiss and a promise to find me later for some target practice. Not a typical honeymoon activity for most folks, I’d bet, but we’re not a typical newlywed couple. First of all, we’re not technically married. There was no ceremony and no officiant. It’s more how we feel about each other. I feel like Grim is my husband, and he feels like I’m his wife. Second, we can’t just lay around making love all week, like I imagine happy newlyweds might do. We have to prepare to protect what’s ours. Our home and our very lives are at stake, and we only have a couple of weeks to get ready, if Rev’s prediction is right.

Last night, Grim showed me how to hold and aim a .22 caliber rifle. I’d never used anything but a BB gun or paintball gun before, and holding a real one felt kind of cool, but kind of intense at the same time. It reminded me that things are going to be different now. Survival means something different today than it meant yesterday, because it’s not just a wild, unpopulated world we’re contending against, but also evil men with selfish agendas.

As I look around the settlement, which was formerly an all-weather camp for youth, I can tell I’m not the only one feeling the weight of the coming battle. Normally, mornings are pretty chill. But here it is several minutes ’til breakfast, and everyone’s up and about.

Over at the barn, I see Shep pouring out feed for our two dairy cows. From the direction of the gravel lot, where we keep all the settlement’s vehicles, the hum of heavy equipment tells me Scrap’s working on something with a big engine. Rev strides across the circular drive carrying a sawhorse over each shoulder, and Brawn is behind him, dragging a cart laden with a generator, a barrel of fuel, a circular saw and a bunch of other tools. Jud emerges from a wooded trail atop a four-wheeler, and he’s towing a cart piled with supplies he must’ve used to shore up the security around our perimeter. Doc is heading to the lodge, coming from the lot, and he’s sweaty, like he’s already been hard at work.

Not only is everyone more active than usual at this hour, but the mood is uncharacteristically heavy. As much as I want to stay with Grim, I kiss him goodbye and head to the barn to help Shep. It’s important to me that I work as hard as my guys. We all need to do our part to protect what’s ours from the men who are coming.

I find Shep in the barn, scratching behind Garfield’s ear. The peach-colored cat keeps mice out of the animal feed and patrols the garden for critters, and he hates everyone, me included. The only exception is Shep.

“The office grump likes you,” I quip.

“Ja.It’s part of my Gift,” he says with a shrug. I’d forgotten that he’s amazing with the animals. Whenever I see Shep, he’s in the kitchen, but in a normal week, he spends a lot of time up here at the barn, too. And in the garden, where he can grow large healthy rows of just about anything he wants. Of all the Gifts here on this mountain, his seems the most versatile.

Shep abandons Garfield and faces me with a smile and a wink. “Good morning, my flower.” Garfield struts away, but not before casting a murderous look my way for interrupting his pets.

I’ve just come from a perfect night and perfect morning with Grim, but that doesn’t stop my stomach from doing an excited flip at the sight of my burly Norwegian. When he opens his arms, I dive into him, and he holds me while he tells me about the chores we’ll do this morning. He ends by saying, “If you’re up to it, of course. It is a lot of work.”

I’m definitely up for it. But I’m surprised breakfast isn’t on the schedule. Instead, Shep’s focus is on securing the barn and goat shed so the animals can be protected if Eagle Peak comes under fire. The animals are a big part of our survival, and there aren’t many domesticated animals left. The Virus swept through the US so quickly that much of the livestock starved in their pens after their owners died. Some people had the foresight to release their animals, so there are some alive in the wild, according to Shep, but it’s hard to find them. More often it’s carcasses the guys find, cows and bulls and sheep and horses that have been attacked and eaten by wolves and coyotes.

In fact, Shep’s been struggling to find a bull to breed the two dairy cows we have. If we don’t eventually have calves, we’ll have to settle for powdered milk, and when the existing supply of that runs out in the surrounding areas, there will be no more dairy from cows. The same goes for the goats, which Shep milks so he can make cheese. Goat cheese is the only type of cheese we have, unless you count those powdered packets that come with boxes of macaroni and cheese—one of Doc’s go-to favorites when he has kitchen duty.

“So, is Doc doing breakfast?” I ask. He’s the one who takes charge of the kitchen when Shep’s unavailable to do so.

“Ja.He’s making a gourmet spread of cereal and toast.”

“Yum,” I say on a chuckle, and Shep and I walk arm-in-arm to the lodge to dine onKellogg’s.

As usual, Doc’s not quite ready at the expected seven-a.m. mealtime, so Shep and I pitch in. I fill the twelve-slot toaster with bread that Doc has sliced up and set the butter dish to soften on the stove beside a simmering pot of oatmeal.

“How’s my little girl, this morning?” The gravelly voice comes from behind me, and I turn to find Rev—one of my two daddies, grinning down at me from his six-foot-five height.

“I’m good.” I can tell from the intensity in his gaze that his question is more than just small talk. Rev was instrumental in helping me overcome my fear of intimate insertion. If not for his patience and intuition and the expert way he commanded my pleasure, I wouldn’t have been able to fulfill my desires with Grim last night. “Very good.” I bite my lip and try to communicate without words that last night was a rousing(ha-ha)success.

As usual, Rev understands. “Baby,” he coos, bending to lift me and set me on the counter. He positions himself between my spread thighs, and his jeans rasp wonderfully against mine. “I’m so fucking proud of you.” Then he wraps me in his arms and rocks me, and I feel ridiculously pleased that I’ve made Daddy proud.

It isn’t until I glimpse Doc and Shep serving breakfast side-by-side at the passthrough window from the circle of Rev’s arms that I remember my dream. The strange images come at me hard and fast: inside-out Bernard, the wriggling, black worm things, and the shimmering light emitting from my two blondies.

“What is it?” Rev asks, crazy eyes pinned on me. Something about my posture or expression must have tipped him off that my train of thought was derailed.

I blink away the strange images, and I say, “Nothing. Just a weird dream I had last night.”

Rev studies me. A few days ago, before I accepted him as my daddy, I would have squirmed under that intense gaze. Now, I just sit patiently, letting him have his intuitive thoughts.

“Hm,” he says, and he lifts me off the counter so I’m standing again. We’re belly to belly—or, rather, my chest to his belly because he’s so tall. He runs his hand over my hair a single time and says, “After breakfast, I want you to tell me about it.”

I don’t have a Gift, so I’m not giving in to the temptation to read more into the dream than I should. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just my brain tossing everything from the past few days into a blender and making nonsense out of it.” I wave it off, but Rev isn’t smiling.

“Maybe it’s nothin’,” he says. “But then again, maybe it’s somethin’.” With a peck on my cheek, he leaves me to wonder about that while I butter the toast.

Chapter 2

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