“Whatever’s around. Pretzels. Beef jerky. Last Easter, it was jellybeans.”
Her smile lit her eyes and seemed to make her entire face glow with an inner happiness.
He pinched a lock of her silky hair between his thumb and forefinger. “What would you be doing if I wasn’t here?”
“Sitting right here, watching some show on landscaping to get new ideas. Talking to my plants.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Or taking a bubble bath.”
His cock stirred at the thought of Fern, bare skin glistening, bubbles coating her upper arms and teasing the crests of her breasts.
Before he hauled her off to the bathtub, he switched the subject, telling her about how Gray asked his input on various military trainings.
She listened intently, asking questions or adding small noises of understanding as he talked. Then she told him more about her side business, which began from an arrangement she created for Felicity’s bookshop. The bakery owner had seen it and requested one to match the colors of her own business.
He listened, really listened, because this—this—was the part he never knew he needed. Being here. Being let in. Sharing in each other’s days, their lives.
At some point, she folded her legs beneath her and leaned sideways into him, her shoulder pressing into his chest. His arm came up around her automatically and he breathed in her enticing perfume.
She traced absentminded patterns on his thigh as she talked, and every nerve ending he had lit up, demanding attention.
He shifted to ease the tightness in his jeans, and her gaze flicked up to his.
There it was.
That look.
Something charged passed between them. The conversation stalled, and neither of them bothered to revive it.
Her lips parted as if in invitation. He brushed his thumb along her jaw, and she leaned into his caress.
It was all the permission he needed.
Dipping his head, he captured her lips. Her fingers tightened on his thigh as she angled her head to give him more access to her mouth. He kissed her slowly at first, lips only brushing until she slipped the tip of her tongue into his mouth.
Stifling a growl, he curled his hand around her waist, tugging her closer even as she twisted hers in the front of his shirt. The kiss deepened, heat building as he inched closer and she fit her body against his like it didn’t know how to be apart.
With a ragged noise, he eased her back on the couch, covering her body with his as their mouths collided in more urgent kisses. Her breath hitched when his body bracketed hers, and the kiss turned carnal.
He devoured her with long passes of his tongue, claiming all her little cries for his own and storing them in his memory to pull out when they were old and gray and sitting on the couch remembering one of their first dates.
Her hands roamed over his shoulders, his chest, fingers digging in. Her breath stuttered and her body arched into his.
God. He loved this woman.
The realization wasn’t shocking. It was all the little moments with Fern fitting together like puzzle pieces until the bigger picture began to take shape and he saw their relationship for what it was.
Their forever.
He forced himself to slow the kiss until it trailed off. He pressed his forehead into hers, breathing hard. “Fern.”
Her eyes were as dark as the forest, her lips swollen from his kisses. “Yes?”
This was the moment—the one where he could spill his guts and risk scaring her off. But he took a leap of faith he never would have a month ago.
“I’m in love with you.”
He was staring into her eyes when he saw them flood with emotion and his heart gave a throb of joy.
She threw her arms around him, yanking him down on top of her. “Oh god, Crew. I love you too. I don’t know when it happened. All the little things—”
