The kiss burned hotter far more than any other. Not because this connection was new—but because itwasn’t. Because we both knew exactly what we were doing this time and did it anyway.
His mouth found mine with intent, slow for half a second and then deeper, like restraint was a language he’d spoken fluently until this moment. Like he was done pretending he didn’t want me this badly.
I made a sound—quiet, involuntary—and his grip tightened, fingers pressing into my back like he needed the confirmation. Like he neededmeto be solid under his hands.
I kissed him back with everything I hadn’t let myself admit out loud.
With the truth that had been building in me for weeks now—that wanting him wasn’t a flare or a lapse or a mistake. It was a current. Strong. Persistent. Pulling me under whether I fought it or not.
And it wasn’t just him.
That was the terrifying part.
It was Coop’s laugh and the way his hand felt warm and familiar at my waist. It was Jake’s sharp attention and Bubba’s steady presence and the way they all looked at me like I mattered. Like they chose me.
Wanting them—all of them—had ceased feeling like confusion and begun to feel like hunger.
Addictive. Expanding.
Archie kissed me like he felt the same. Like he knew this wasn’t just about us anymore—it was about everything we were standing in the middle of and choosing anyway.
When we finally broke apart, my breath came unsteady, my pulse loud in my ears.
His forehead rested against mine, his thumb brushing once—just once—over my hip like a question he wasn’t asking yet.
“This is dangerous,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he said, voice low, roughened. “And I still want it.”
So did I. More than I was ready to admit. More than I knew how to stop.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Not loud. Not abrupt.
Polite.
Jeremy.
Archie froze first.
Not pulling away—just stilling, every muscle going alert like a held breath. My pulse jumped anyway, heat flushing my face as if we’d been caught doing something far more incriminating than kissing.
“Mr. Archie,” Jeremy said from the other side of the door, voice smooth and perfectly neutral. “Miss Frankie.”
Of course he knew exactly who was in here.
“Yes?” Archie called, his voice steady enough to pass, though I could feel the tension humming under his skin where his hands still rested at my waist.
“I merely wished to inform you that Mr. Edward and Ms. Curtis are hoping you’ll join them for dinner,” Jeremy continued. Not a question. An announcement. “No urgency. I told them you were occupied.”
Occupied.
My lips twitched despite myself.
“We’ll be down soon,” I said, grateful my voice didn’t wobble.
“Very good,” Jeremy replied. There was the faintest pause—just enough to acknowledge the situation without commenting on it. “Take your time.”
