Page 52 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

Then she began to sink. Slowly. So slowly.

The water made everything slicker, warmer, easier, but the fullness still stole her breath. When their hips finally met, Robyn let out a long, broken exhale that sounded almost like relief. Her thighs quivered against his; her arms slid around his neck, clinging.

They stayed like that, perfectly still, locked together beneath the cooling surface of the bath. Foreheads pressed, noses brushing, breathing the same humid air. Steam curled lazily around them. A candle flickered, throwing soft gold across their skin.

“You’re everything,” Tyler managed at last, voice raw, barely above a whisper. His hands smoothed up her back in long, soothing strokes, as if he were trying to memorize the feel of her wrapped around him.

She smiled faintly against his temple, eyes closed, heart hammering in time with his.

Then she started moving slowly, lifting and sinking in shallow, careful motions, the water lapping at the sides of the tub with each rise and fall. His hands guided her, thumbs pressing firm, grounding points at her hips. Every slide down took him deeper; every roll of her pelvis sent heat zipping through her, steady and insistent.

And the way he looked at her? She felt like a goddess. It made her bolder. She adjusted her angle, circling her hips instead of just rising and falling, chasing the friction she needed. The base of him caught against her with each slow grind; pleasure bloomed brighter, tightening low in her belly again.

She braced her hands on his shoulders and found a rhythm—unhurried but sure, a gentle rocking that let her feel every inch of him. His breath turned ragged. One hand slid up her spine, cradling the back of her neck, keeping her close.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Just like that. Take what you need.”

The words sank in, warm and potent. No one had ever said that to her before. She wasn’t performing, wasn’t being led; she was choosing this, choosing him, and he was meeting her exactly where she was.

The coil inside her drew tighter. She could feel him throbbing, feel his restraint fraying each time she clenched around him. The water sloshed over the edge in small waves, forgotten.

“I’m close,” she admitted, voice shaking. “Tyler, I⁠—”

Her body seized, pleasure crashing over her in an intense, rolling wave. She cried out, clenching around him, nails digging into his shoulders as the orgasm tore through her, hot and overwhelming. He groaned her name, hips jerking up to meet her as the tight grip of her release dragged him over the edge with her until they were both shaking, breathless, holding onto each other like they might float away.

Eventually, the tension eased. She slumped against his chest, cheek pressed over his hammering heart, their bodies still joined, water gently lapping around them.

Tyler exhaled a stunned, disbelieving laugh into her damp hair. “Well,” he said hoarsely, “that definitely counts as self-care.”

Robyn smiled against his skin, warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the bath. “Best prescription I’ve ever had,” she murmured.

TWENTY-FOUR

TYLER

Tyler would’ve given anything to stay with Robyn last night. He would’ve tucked her into bed beside him, wrapped his arm around her waist as he kissed her goodnight, and held her there until morning. But Emma was waiting for him at home with Zoe.

At the door, he’d stolen one more kiss and forced himself to step back. “Come over tomorrow morning for breakfast, before the store opens. Emma leaves at eight for school. I’m going to talk to her first, about us,” he’d said.

“Are you sure?” Robyn had asked, searching his face like she was afraid she was asking for too much.

“The whole town already knows how I feel about you,” Tyler had replied with a dry smile. “And yeah. I think it’s time Emma did too.”

Robyn exhaled slowly. “Alright then. I’ll text you in the morning when I wake up.” She’d gone up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Now, in the soft light of morning, he replayed that moment as he stood at his stove, the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg curling through the kitchen. He could still see her in his mind’s eye, the way she’d looked when he left, wrapped in that fluffy bathrobe, hair damp from the tub, candlelight brushing warmth across her face, while he cracked one egg, then another, into the mixing bowl.

He whisked in milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, and a splash of vanilla until the mixture turned the warm, comforting color of every cozy morning he wanted with her.

It wasn’t yet nine o’clock, but Emma was already at school, her plate rinsed and tucked into the dishwasher after a quick breakfast. Tyler had planned on having a heart-to-heart with his daughter, testing the waters to see how she felt about Robyn, when Emma had surprised him with her insights as soon as he’d mentioned Robyn’s name.

“You get all googly-eyed when you look at her, Dad,” Emma said over her toast and jam.

“I do not.” Tyler had leaned against the counter, mug in hand, trying for dignity and probably failing. “I think you’re exaggerating.”

“Am not. Anyway… I like her. She should be your girlfriend.”

Tyler almost dropped his mug.