“Alex,”Móraídrew our attention back to the table, “what’s next for your company? More growth, or are you looking to settle into what you’ve built?”
I shifted my position slightly, pinching the inside of her thigh. She jumped as her legs flew apart, fork clattering against her plate, and I couldn’t help the satisfied smile that crossed my face.
“Sorry about that,” Alex managed, shooting me a look that was half challenge, half promise of retaliation before turning to Móraí,leaning back in her chair, maintaining perfect composure that was both infuriating and incredibly arousing. “After everything that’s happened recently, I’m thinking more about sustainability than expansion. Making sure we can protect what we’ve created, take care of our people.”
She paused, her face innocent as she glanced around the table. But her fingers brushed across the growing ridge in my jeans. I sucked in a breath and narrowed my gaze at her, catching the smirk that meant she thought she now had the upper hand. “I want to make sure nobody ever feels like they’re a means to an end or that they’re disposable in any way.”
“Speaking of taking care of people…” I stood and offered her my hand. “Dinner was lovely, but I think we should get back to our room. Been a long day and Alex needs her rest. We both do.”
“Leaving so soon?” Elowyn asked, knowing amusement in her voice.
“We still have a few things we need to take care of tonight,” I lifted a shoulder. Luke sputtered his drink.
Alex pressed herself against my side so nobody could see her hand snaking over my backside. “Thank you for dinner,” she smiled sweetly. Almost too sweet. “And for letting me prattle on about my company.”
“Anytime,” Dad responded warmly. “It’s always a pleasure learnin’ more about you.”
Móraí’s voice followed us as we made our way toward the door. “Finn, dear—take some extra blankets if you’re planning to look at stars. Gets cold after midnight.”
I groaned inwardly as Alex cackled next to me. Sometimes my grandmother saw entirely too much.
“Móraíis something else,” Alex laughed once we were safely out of earshot, but there was something in her voice—anticipation that had been building all through dinner—along with mine.
“She’s got a gift for stating the obvious at the worst possible moments,” I muttered, but here I was, carrying an armful of myfamily’s “outdoor” blankets to spread out so we could watch the stars—or at least pretend that’s what we were going to do.
“So,” Alex unlocked our room and stepped inside, holding the door for me as she kicked off her sandals, “stargazing?”
“Could do,” I moved past her—close enough that she had to press back against the door—and toed off my boots. “Balcony’s got a decent view of the sky, and they keep the grounds pretty dark.”
She was still holding the door open, looking up at me with those bright blue eyes. “Perfect.”
“Might be other people out watching as well though,” I added, dropping the blankets on the bed near the balcony doors.
“Hmm,” she made a noise that sounded pleased by the challenge, and I felt my blood heat.
She pulled the pillows from the unused bed as she continued. “Today felt good, you know? Being useful instead of just—” she paused, something shifting in her expression. “Instead of having to protect what I’ve already built.”
“You’re always useful,” I said, stepping closer. “Today you were just...”
“What?” She turned to face me fully.
“Everything,” I said simply. Because that’s what she’d been—everything my family needed, everything I wanted in a partner, everything that made those bigger horizons feel less important than the woman standing right in front of me.
Alex stepped closer, heat coming off her skin. Her tongue darted between her lips as her eyes flicked over my face. “Finn...”
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Stars. Let’s pretend to watch them for a while.”
Direct order, delivered with an intensity that made my pulse kick up. I grabbed the blankets and pillows as she slid the door open.
The balcony was small—just enough space for two chairs and a little table—but it had a clear view of the Wyoming sky. Alex shoved the chairs on top of each other in a corner as I spread thethickest two blankets over the wooden deck, tossed the pillows down, then set the remaining blanket within easy reach.
“Better than your at-home planetarium,” I joked, but Alex was already moving past me to the railing, looking up at the real thing. Stars were scattered across the black canvas—no city lights to compete with their brightness.
“Much better,” she sighed.
I stood behind her, hands settling on her hips. She leaned back against my chest, and I let my hands roam over her sides, feeling the warmth of her skin through the soft fabric, the curve of her waist under my palms, and the way she fit perfectly against me—solid and soft all at once.
