Page 45 of Charlie

I moan, sliding my hands into his hair, pulling him to me, riding him with everything I have. He slides a finger inside me, rubbing a spot that has me screaming his name as my body shatters into a million pieces.

24

Lach wraps me up in a big fluffy towel and drives me back to the cottage before leaving to find a change of clothes. I throw on a tank top with a cropped hoodie and joggers, still following Millie's advice to layer. I abandon the galoshes and opt for my trusty hiking boots. I go back to that day at the fairy pools as I lace them up. The feel of Cam's arms under my fingers as I helped him undress. The feel of his body between my legs as the frigid water lapped over our skin. Most of all, though, I miss our conversations.

There's a knock at the door as I swipe one last coat of mascara over my lashes. I open the door to Jay's large frame leaning against the side of the cottage. Canvas pants obscenely hug his legs, his arms crossed over his chest. I have trouble tearing my gaze away from the way his flannel shirt is pulling over his biceps.

"Hey, you," I say, sliding my gaze up his torso one last time and up to his mouth.

"Charlotte." He dips his head in greeting. "Lach sent me. He said you wanted a tour of the farm?"

I take a second to process the change of plans, deciding that I could definitely use some time away from Lach to get my head on straight. Plus, who better to take me on a tour than the man himself? "That would be amazing." I grin, brushing past him and heading for his truck, ignoring the urge to rub against him like a cat.

Jack corners me against the locked truck, one hand hot on my hip, his lips close to my ear. "We're living in the moment today, Charlotte. I don't want to hear you talking about the end of the summer a single time. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," I whisper, intending my words to sound snide, but they are breathy and filled with desire.

Jack swears. "Get in," he growls, unlocking the door and wrenching it open.

I can't hide my grin as I climb in. Hot and bothered Jack is my favorite side of his personality by far.

"Hey, Carebear!" Lachlan ducks under Jack's arm, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "What'd I miss?"

"Hurry up and get in," Jack grumbles. Lach gets in on my right, and Jack slams his door a little too hard on my left. I smother a smile at being sandwiched between them. I like it—a lot.

We sit there for a minute, nobody moving a muscle. "Penny for your thoughts," I blurt when the silence gets too loud.

Jack clears his throat. "Honestly? I still can't believe you're here. The day after we met in the pub, I wasn't sure I would ever see you again. I went back and asked around town to see if anyone knew where you went, but nobody did. And then the ferry." His voice caught. "I waited for you."

"I waited for you, too," I whisper, my heart aching over the hurt in his eyes.

He smiles softly. "I had to trust that the gods would bring us together eventually."

"And they did." I reach over and lace my fingers through his.

He stares at me, his gaze roaming over my face, memorizing this moment. He pulls my hand toward his making me lean toward him and kisses me softly on the forehead. He presses his lips to each of my fingers before letting go of my hand to start the truck. Lachlan stretches his arm behind me, tracing lazy circles on my shoulder.

Is this how it will be if I decide to take the leap with them? I imagined something messy and awkward. Not this.

"Ready?" Jack asks, putting the truck in drive.

"I think so," I whisper, answering the question swirling nonstop through my mind. Can I really do this? Especially so soon after Rob? I look over at Jack, his hair blowing wild in the wind, totally in his element as we lurch and bump over the farm roads. I turn my gaze to Lachlan, his ever-present smirk twisting his lips. "What?" I ask when he stares back at me.

"Did you see the cows?" He points to the pasture to the right, to the enormous orange hairy cows that are impossible to miss.

"Those tiny things?"

"Do you know why they have hooves and not feet?" His eyes twinkle, his smirk turning into a barely controlled grin.

"Why Lachlan?"

"Because they lactose." I glance at Jack, get one look at the grimace on his face, and fall into a fit of giggles. The wind roars through the cab as we drive through a wide-open valley, my hair twisting around my head like a tornado. Lachlan catches it in a fist and pulls lightly, grinning when I scowl at him. I sneak a glance over at Jack, his ruggedness stealing the breath from my lungs. One large hand palms the steering wheel, and his other arm is out the window, pointing as he tells me about where he grew up. I can hear the passion in his voice as he explains the farm's history. How he's working to keep it the same as it has been for generations – honoring the ancestors that worked the land before him. His smile is loose and easy, his eyes sparkling; this is an entirely different side of him. I'm intrigued.

"Your turn," he says gruffly, breaking a comfortable silence.

"For what?"

"To share your thoughts."

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