She laughed. Quiet and low.
"And what?" she teased. "Taking it off again?"
He nodded, gaze stealing lower. "Pretty much always want to take your clothes off." His smile widened. "Even when they're made by me."
She kissed him again.
And this time, they didn't stop. They stayed tangled in sheets and each other, like the world could wait.
CHAPTER 21
14 DAYS UNTIL ANNA & DRAKE'S WEDDING
ZACH
Zach stepped onto the Stallions' field, the turf spongy under his boots, and Anna's wedding dress tucked away in a garment bag and slung over his shoulder. The weight of it was grounding—something he was doing for family, sure. But really, it was more like a talisman from the night everything with Piper had shifted.
But those were thoughts for another time because tonight was all about Wild Sacks. The air at the stadium was electric, even without tens of thousands of fans.
The field, thick with the scent of freshly cut grass, was all about his company. Every road led… here.
He'd spent most of the day at the field finishing prep work, but once that was finished, he hurried to finish Anna's gown. Which, for the record, was more of a pain than he'd ever expected. But it was done. Complete. And ready for his sister.
Piper spun toward him, clipboard in hand, headset slightly askew, her ponytail swinging like it called plays. Her eyes locked on his and, God, that gleam unraveled him. It wasn't just a glance. It was a full-system diagnostic run by someone who already had his password.
Someone who could anticipate his next move.
Someone who saw he was cutting it close, clocked the garment bag and understood without a word of explanation, and held a spark of welcome that made the entire buzzing, brilliantly lit field fade into a muted, unimportant backdrop.
He ran a hand through his hair. The gesture felt inadequate. "I saved the hardest stitching for last, and it was a total nightmare."
"Is everything okay?" she eyed the dress bag, assessing it as a liability that might need tossed.
"It is now." He held up his hands as proof, the ghost of a needle prick on his thumb still throbbing. "I've spent the last hour with a needle and thread because the machine kept puckering the silk. Noah assured me he had everything under control here, but it looks like that's you. Not him."
"Everyone's been working together. But we're glad you're here." She leaned forward and squeezed his arm.
"We?" he asked.
"We meaning me. I'm glad you're here." Her voice was lower now, just for him, a quiet confession in the middle of a hundred other conversations.
She'd been staying over a heck of a lot more often, and he'd even stayed at her apartment a few times, learning the quirks of her coffeemaker and the exact spot on the couch that she called her "command center."
Being together just seemed… right.
Natural, like breathing.
Ever since the night he'd agreed to fix the dress, they'd been nearly inseparable. They stole moments between Wild Sacks deadlines and wedding checklists. It had become the new rhythm of his life. A steady beat beneath the noise he hadn't realized wasn’t there before.
It was raw, and it was fun.
Sex that left them breathless and bantering, like their first smoothie date but with way less clothes and infinitely more at stake. It was learning the map of her skin and the cadence of her sleep-soaked voice in the morning.
And the way she looked at him right then? There on the field? Part surprise and part pure excitement? It made him want to drop the dress, dip her low, and kiss her on the spot, right in front of the players, the puppies, and the entire production crew.
"What are the odds this pre-taped shoot won't turn into a puppy riot?" Zach asked, stepping closer, his voice full of amusement.
"I don't play odds," she shot back, her grin pure mischief as she tapped her clipboard with a pen. "I go with certainty."
