Tally hands her a mug. “Don’t make me drink it all myself. I’m a lightweight.”
And then she shares her drink with my sister.
She shares her friends with my sister.
And my stomach is in a free fall. I’m so screwed.
—
Hours later, I’m out in the fields, tending to the tulips and trying to forget how good today was. After we finished up at the farmers market, Rosie invited everyone to the brewery for an early dinner. She said it was the best day the brewery had since opening weekend three years ago so she wanted to celebrate.
Billie spent the whole day chatting with Gail and the Darling girls, and Quinn managed to drag Tally and Rosie onto the dance floor as a live country band performed.
The Darlings—and Rosie—welcomed my family into their fold, and it reminded me all of the things Billie and I missed growing up. It’s always just been us. And I’ve always wanted to be enough for her. Enough of a brother, of a pseudo father, a terrible, makeshift mother. But after today, watching Tally, Penny, and Gail laughing and dancing together, I realize that’s the kind of family my sister deserves. I’m just one person. I can’t be all the people.
When Billie finally took Quinn home, Tally asked if I wanted to stay for a drink with her. I said no because I had work to do and I needed space from her to think.
Now, I’m heading up the hill after checking on the daffodils, ready for a nice long shower and bed, when I see a flash of light coming from the big house. Then someone steps onto the porch, shrieks, and launches off the front steps. My eyes narrow as I try to make out who it is. When the light ofthe moon hits her like a spotlight, Tally’s angelic features come into view and I see a huge smile on her face. She runs straight toward me until she’s launching herself right into my chest. I don’t hesitate to grab her by the ass, lifting and squeezing her to me so we both don’t fall over.
“Eli shared our viral post online!” she squeals.
“What?” I’m slightly out of breath with her so close.
Tally’s golden eyes glow in the moonlight. “Eli! He shared the post, and one of his old hockey buddies, Daniel Hall, commented, asking if we had any wedding openings this spring.”
“That’s a good thing?” I honestly don’t understand half the words she’s saying, but she seems happy.
Tally laughs and then she squeezes my cheeks between her palms and stares down at me. “Yeah, Cowboy. That’s a good thing. Daniel is like a huge hockey star, and his wife is this big-time author. Penny is freaking out. She’s obsessed with Hannah. They want to do a vow renewal here! Can you imagine how big this could be for the farm? This is it, Walker. I feel it. Everything is going to be all right!”
Tally is still in my arms, and once again, our lips are too close. Golden waves of her hair act like a curtain around us as we stand in the middle of the meadow, the budding daffodils and glittering stars our only witnesses. A man could act reckless out here and no one would know.
“I like seeing you smile, Wildflower.”
Tally’s mouth curves. “I like when you call me ‘Wildflower.’”
“Yeah?”
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.
“Yeah.” The word is whispered. “But I liked it better whenyou called meyourwildflower.” Her thumb slides across my bottom lip and she tugs on it.
I grunt. With her legs wrapped around my waist I can feel her warmth. Can imagine how easy it would be to head right back to the house, slam the door, and forget about everything else.
“Tally.” Her name comes out as a rasp. I’m pleading for her to pull back. To stop us from making this mistake.
She leans just a bit closer and rubs her soft lips against mine. “Shhh, Cowboy, let me play for a minute.”
My dick throbs against my zipper as her tongue peeks out, and I practically growl when she slides it against my lips, tasting me.
That’s all it takes for me to snap. Gripping her ass with one hand, I slide the other up and wrap it around the back of her neck, needing control. “Okay, Wildflower, let’s play.”
My lips crash into hers, and it isn’t a fire that sets my body aflame. No, it’s a tidal wave that pulls me out to sea. An out-of-control disaster that could consume us both and drag us under. I don’t care, though. I could drown in this woman without even realizing it because I’d rather keep my lips on hers than ever breathe again.
Just as I imagined, her lips taste like sugar—probably from the incredible cupcakes that got us into this mess to begin with—and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. I lick into her mouth, seeking more. She moans, and her legs tighten around my waist. Her fingers grip my hair, and she tugs, giving me just that little bit of pain that I crave. Then she scrapes down my scalp and nips at my lips.
Fuck, this woman is perfect.
“Tally,” I mumble.
