“I know. Three dogsisa lot.” She blew out a breath. “Seriously though. I hope I didn’t freak you out. But you should know where my brain is. What my heart is telling me without question.”
Sloane placed a hand on Reese’s cheek as the sun set over the water through the picture window, showcasing purples and oranges. “Well, here’s the thing.” She looked into Reese’s eyes. “I have fallen very much in love with you, Reese Maddox. I’m gone on you. I mean that with every ounce of conviction in my body. And I want it all, too.” She closed her eyes as if steadying herself. “And it’s a big step for me to admit it out loud, because it’s scary for me at the same time. But I love you too much to let anything get in the way of telling you.”
The smile that took shape on Reese’s face was a manifestation of sheer joy like nothing she’d ever experienced. Racing highs were a real thing, but they didn’t compare in the slightest to what she felt in this moment. “Come here,” Reese said, giving Sloane’s arm a tug. Sloane allowed herself to be pulled onto Reese’s lap, where she cradled the back of her head, leaned down, and captured Reese’s mouth in a kiss that began soft and heartfelt and shifted steadily to hot and urgent. As their mouths danced, Sloane went up on her knees, straddling Reese, for better access, the movement knocking the breath from Reese’s lungs in the best way. The kiss deepened, mouths fittingtogether like they’d been practicing for all time. Sloane tasted like citrus and ginger, and the wine from dinner, and Reese knew she’d never get enough.
“God, you feel good,” Sloane breathed.
Sloane’s hands fisted in Reese’s shirt, grounding herself there, and Reese answered by holding her closer, as if distance had become an intolerable concept. When Sloane sighed into her mouth, low and unguarded, Reese felt it everywhere.
“Should we?” Reese asked around kisses.
“Definitely should.” Another mind-blowing kiss. “Let me give you a tour of the bedroom.”
Reese arched a brow. “And by tour, you actually mean …”
“Hundred percent.”
When you love someone, the touches linger longer, the kisses grow more insistent, and the release carries a depth that feels almost overwhelming. Sloane felt it immediately—that everything between them had slowed and sharpened all at once, as if saying the important words had tuned her senses to a finer frequency. Reese’s hands explored her with intention now, not searching, not guessing, but learning her again through the lens of certainty.
They stayed up into the early morning hours, bodies moving together in a quiet, reverent rhythm, the night unfolding without urgency. Sloane let herself sink fully into it, into the way Reese held her like something precious, into the way every kiss anchored her to this woman who was nothing short of amazing. Pleasure built patiently, wave after wave, until it left her undone in Reese’s arms, breathless and trembling, held through it all.
Later, when the world outside had softened toward dawn, Sloane lay tangled with Reese, limbs warm, heart impossibly full. Love changed everything, she realized, and she would always remember the night they’d finally claimed it.
The lazy morning belonged to them, and the idea that they had absolutely nowhere to be was not only novel, but it was also cause for celebration. Sloane was up first. She threw on jeans and a faded yellow T-shirt, then walked the couple of blocks to the Cat’s Pajamas, where she grabbed them lattes to go and a variety of amazing pastries Autumn had assembled in a cute little blue box.
“What is that?” Reese asked when she arrived back at the house. She was awake and stood in the kitchen, wearing only her underwear and a blue T-shirt featuring a duck wearing glasses. Her hair was wild from a good night’s sleep, and her lips slightly swollen from, well, everything they’d done right before. She looked absolutely perfect.
Sloane smiled, shifting the box to one hip as she nudged the door closed with her foot. “Breakfast. Or possibly brunch. Time is a suggestion today.”
Reese crossed the kitchen barefoot, peered into the blue box, and made a low, appreciative sound. “You went to a place called the Cat’s Pajamas?” She looked up, eyes warm and amused. “You’re trying to make me fall in love with you all over again.”
“Too late for that,” Sloane said easily, setting the lattes on the counter. She handed one over, fingers brushing Reese’s, the contact still sending a quiet thrill through her. It felt different this morning, lighter somehow, but deeper too. Like everything fit just a little better.
Reese took a sip, sighed, and leaned in to kiss her, slow and unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world to get it right. “This,” she said, gesturing vaguely between the coffee, thepastries, and the two of them, “might be my favorite version of us.”
Sloane bumped her shoulder. “Mmm. Mine, too.”
They ate at the counter, sharing bites, laughing when powdered sugar ended up on Reese’s nose without her realizing it, talking about work, their favorite vacation spots, and why Sloane believed she could absolutely outrun a goose if it came down to it. Outside, the day stretched open and unclaimed. And for once, Sloane didn’t feel the need to plan ahead or brace for what came next. She just sat there with the woman she loved, sunlight creeping into the room, thinking that if this was what the morning after looked like, she was more than ready for whatever followed.
“What if we took a walk around the neighborhood after this?” Sloane asked. “We can end up on the beach. Watch the waves. Grab a lemonade. I guarantee you the people-watching alone will be well worth it.”
Reese pulled off a section of croissant. “I want to do all of that. The answer is a resoundingyou’re on.” She popped it in her mouth.
“Stop making croissants sexy,” Sloane said.
“I will not. And now that I know I can, I’m going to do it more.” And oh, she did, too. Deliberating, tugging a flaky bite of the freshly baked middle and placing it slowly in her perfect mouth, the same one that had Sloane clawing the sheets and screaming her name last night.
“You’re out of control.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Reese asked, blinking innocently, and showing off her long lashes.
“Come here. Let’s find out.” Sloane turned her around and backed her against the counter as the smile faded from Reese’s lips and her eyes darkened with a look Sloane recognized: desire. She placed a soft hand between Reese’s legs and watched herface as she stroked softly once. Twice. “Oh, you’re quieter now,” Sloane said. “And this is in the way.” She slid the rectangular piece of fabric to the side and began to play. Reese dropped the croissant onto the counter and grabbed the edge with both hands.
“Fuck,” she breathed, eyes closing.
“Yes, I am about to fuck you,” Sloane said. Reese’s body was always so responsive in the morning, and today was no different. “But I want to make sure you want it first. Do you want it?” Sloane asked, trailing a finger down Reese’s cheek. She kissed the smooth skin on her neck, inhaling her scent.
Reese was already rocking against her other hand, the T-shirt riding up with each small movement, offering a glimpse of her abdomen. “I do want it.”
