Page 52

"Yes," Emma laughed, setting the cup on the floorboards. "Stop pulling at it. You are making it worse. Let me."

Emma closed the distance between them. She shifted onto her knees. The rhythmic flashes from the projection outside filtered through the cracks, illuminating the space just enough for her to see.

"Hold still," Emma murmured.

She reached out. Her fingers brushed against Victoria’s hair. The strands were incredibly soft. Emma pulled the dried lavender free, tossing it onto the floor. She gently brushed the remaining petals from Victoria’s shoulder.

As she did, her fingers grazed the skin of Victoria’s neck. Victoria inhaled sharply and Emma stayed still. Her hand hovered over Victoria’s collarbone. The laughter died in her throat.

Emma looked down. Victoria was already looking up. The shifting light caught the gold flecks in Victoria’s eyes. The humor was entirely gone, replaced by a sudden, heavy gravity. The air in the shed felt impossibly thick.

"Did you get it?" Victoria asked. Her voice was a whisper.

"Get what?" Emma breathed. Her mind had completely blanked.

"The spider."

Emma smiled faintly. She didn't pull her hand away. Her fingers slowly curled, her thumb resting against the pulse point on Victoria’s neck. The heartbeat beneath her skin was frantic. "It was lavender."

Victoria didn't tell her to move. She tilted her chin up, leaning into Emma’s touch. The scent of lemon soap mixed with the crushed lavender. Emma’s chest tightened. She let her gaze drop to Victoria’s mouth. The intention was undeniable.

Victoria’s hand came up, her fingers wrapping around Emma’s wrist. She didn't push her away. She held her there, anchoring them together in the dim light.

"Emma," Victoria whispered. Her breath skimmed Emma’s skin. Emma leaned in. The remaining distance vanished. Emma leaned down, her mouth crashing against Victoria's.

The kiss was an immediate, blinding collision. There was no hesitation, no gentle exploration—only the violent snapping of a wire that had been pulled too tight for weeks. Victoria’s free hand tangled roughly in the canvas of Emma’s apron, yanking her forward until there wasn't a single millimeter of space left between them.

Emma gasped at the sudden, crushing impact, and Victoria swallowed the sound instantly. Her mouth opened over Emma's with a desperate hunger that obliterated the quiet of the shed. Emma’s fingers slid rapidly up from the pulse point on Victoria’s neck, twisting deeply into the hair at the nape of her neck to drag her even closer, matching her desperation beat for beat.

Victoria’s thumb dug into the line of Emma’s jaw, tilting her head to deepen the angle, taking control with a ruthless, breathless intensity that made Emma’s knees weak. Emma clung to the fabric of Victoria's linen shirt, pulling her flush against her chest, totally consumed by the blinding, suffocating heat of Victoria Sterling finally, letting go.

It was a kiss built on weeks of pure torture, erupting into a wet slide of heat and lust. Victoria’s tongue traced the seam of Emma’s lower lip, tasting the sticky sweetness of the rose spritz, before pushing inward to pry her lips apart. Emma opened for her instantly, letting out a broken sound that Victoria swallowed whole as their tongues finally tangled. The kiss was deep, hot, and relentlessly demanding. Victoria explored the warmth of Emma's mouth with sweeping strokes, stealing her breath and shattering her senses.

They finally broke apart, both of them breathing raggedly in the dark. Emma’s forehead rested against Victoria’s, the blood rushing so violently in her ears she couldn't hear the storm outside. She kept her hands buried in Victoria's hair, in shock at the fire they had just set.

"Victoria, I—" Emma whispered, her voice trembling.

A loud ringtone shattered the air.

Victoria violently startled, the breath catching in her throat as the vibration buzzed against her hip. The loud noise cut straight through the heavy air between them. Her hands slipped reluctantly from Emma, dropping to fumble with her pocket. When she pulled the phone out, the bright screen bathed her flushed face in pale light, washing out the shadows and breaking the spell.

"It is Lucy," Victoria said, her voice rough. She cleared her throat and answered. "Hello?"

"Where the hell are you?" Lucy’s voice crackled through the speaker. "The projection started ten minutes ago. People are already buying cider. I need Emma at her stand!"

"We are in the garden shed," Victoria said, struggling to regulate her breathing. "We are locked in."

Lucy let out a bark of laughter. "You trapped yourselves in the shed? Hold on."

The call disconnected. Less than a minute later, footsteps crunched on the gravel outside. The latch clicked. The door swung outward, and fresh air flooded the space. Lucy stood in the doorway, holding a flashlight. She surveyed them sitting on the floor, their knees touching, the flushed color high on both of their cheeks.

Lucy smirked. She looked at Emma. "Am I interrupting?"

"Shut up, Luce," Emma muttered.

Emma scrambled to her feet, brushing wood shavings from her apron with hurried, shaking hands. Victoria rose alongside her, turning her face away from the light to smooth the creases from her linen trousers, her jaw tight as she desperately tried to rebuild her walls.

"I need to check… Chloe. I’ll be back," Victoria said briskly. She pushed past Lucy and walked back toward the festival without meeting Emma's eyes.