Page 53 of One Night

“You piece of shit!” Duke’s irritated voice echoed across the farm as a loud clatter closely followed. I watched as Duke slid himself out from underneath the large machine. His back was pressed against a rolling board that allowed him to move freely under the blueberry picker.

He sat up, and my mouth went dry. The arms of his T-shirt had been cut off, giving me a clear view of his toned shoulders and biceps, despite the autumn weather. Duke hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees, and a V of sweat clung to his back. I took in his scowl and backward baseball hat as heat bloomed between my legs. My clit throbbed, and I had to bite back the moan that almost escaped me.

Thoughts of having sex with Duke, of feeling his large hard body on top of me, consumed me. Seeing him dressed in jeans and a cutoff shirt with that backward hat did not just make him hot—it made himirresistible.I wanted to straddle him, to feel his hands on my hips as I ground into him.

What would he do if I begged him to ease this ache that neither my fingers nor a vibrator could seem to make go away?

Duke and I had had conversations about how being around each other was helpful, that we would continue to get to know each other before the baby was born. In theory, it made sense, but in reality, it was pure torture. I’m sure Duke thought I was quiet and liked my space, but the truth was I mostly kept to my room because I couldn’t get enough of him. Just being in the same room as him was enough to throw my sex drive into overdrive.

I will definitely be coming to the thought of him in that fucking hat tonight.

My movements caught his eye, and he looked over. “Hey.”

I kept my smile tight in an effort to keep my tongue from hanging out at the sight of him. I lifted up the small brown paper bag. “Not sure if you already ate, but I grabbed the pulled-porkplatter from Momma Faye’s Barbecue. The fries are probably soggy.” I shrugged. “But it’s better than nothing.”

His dark eyes roamed over me, and flames danced beneath my skin. “You didn’t have to do that.”

I smiled at him and turned toward the house, then stopped and looked over my shoulder with a smile. “I know. ’Night, Duke.”

I closed my eyes and breathed as I took the familiar steps toward the farmhouse. I could feel his eyes pinned to my back. “Good night, Sylvie.”

Once inside, I set his dinner on the counter and went straight upstairs to plop down on the bed with a sigh. I toed off my shoes and stared at the ceiling, letting the image of sweaty, muscular Duke run in a loop in my mind. My hand skated over my sensitive nipples and moved lower, teasing over the fabric of my pants and between my legs. I had tried,really tried, to think of anyone else when my hormones got this out of control, but it was no use. Hot models, porn on my phone,nothingcould even get me close to relief. Nothing except for Duke, that is.

Replaying our beach date again in my mind, or imagining new scenarios, like one in which I was pressed against the counter, ass up while he devoured me from behind, was enough to have me orgasming in minutes flat. I imagined his rough, calloused hands tweaking my nipples while his mouth burned a delicious path across my skin.

Deep pressure built between my legs as my clit throbbed. I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of my pants and down to my aching clit. I knew my fingers were a poor substitute for him, but I was desperate. Downstairs I heard the click of the front door and the familiar clack of Ed’s nails on the hardwood. He was close, under the same roof, and I could practically smell his cologne waft up the stairs. I bet tonight he smelled like his cologne mixed with a delicious hint of sweat.

My panting breaths were desperate and heavy as I heard his footfalls ascending the stairs. In my mind, Duke growled as he devoured my pussy. Rolling to my stomach, I buried my face in a pillow as thoughts of him drove me closer and closer to relief. I had an image of Duke tucked away—him sitting in the living room by the fire with black glasses as he read a book.

Oh god. Why was Duke in glasses so fucking hot?

My orgasm rolled over me in rich, delicious waves, and as I pictured Duke wearing those glasses while he filled me, I lay on my side with my hands still tucked in my underwear, attempting to catch my breath. The faint sound of a shower down the hallway had me groaning all over again as I imagined Duke sudsy and naked.

I pouted and groaned.

Still unsatisfied, even my body knew nothing could ever replace the real thing.

NINETEEN

DUKE

“Happy Thanksgiving, Uncle Duke!”

My niece, Penny, leaped off the porch stairs of Highfield House. My brother Lee and his now-girlfriend Annie had moved in and were in the process of turning it into a beautiful home. Across the driveway, Sand Dune Art Barn was closed up, but tucked inside were the beginnings of Annie’s dream art studio. Together they planned to turn it into a gathering place for our community and tourists.

“You brought Duck!” Penny sailed past me toward the truck.

I shrugged. “Ed won’t go anywhere without him.”

“Ed won’t, huh?” My brother looked at me with a smirk and shook my hand. “Happy Thanksgiving.” He looked over my shoulder. “Hey, Dad.”

Our father closed the passenger-side door behind him and wrapped Penny in a hug. “Hi, Son.” Dad looked down at Penny. “Let’s get that duck unloaded. What do you say, kiddo?”

Together, Dad and Penny removed Duck from the back seat and set him on the ground. We laughed as he waddled next to Ed and followed the dog out into the yard. I looked across the wide lawn to the fields in the distance. A crushed limestone path was part of a thirty-four-mile former railway that hadbeen converted to a path for walkers, bikers, and horses. In a roundabout way, it also connected Highfield House to Sullivan Farms.

One by one the leaves had fallen in quiet surrender. In the meadow, wild grasses paled, and the honey-and-amber shades reminded me of the gold and umber of Sylvie’s eyes. I was pleased to see that at this end of the property winter mulch insulated the base of the bushes. We’d done good work, and the berry bushes could rest as winter quickly approached.

Fragments of unease rolled through me. Earlier in the week, while inspecting the mulching, I once again found unfamiliar tracks in the frosty grass. Cisco couldn’t account for them, and it rattled me. The slim parcel of land bordered an area that was owned by the town and was used as an open-space groundwater recharge area.

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