“I love you, Peach.”

“I love you, too,” she replied, her voice husky with need.

She reached her hand down and twined her fingers with mine. Stepping around me, she pulled me along as she walked backwards, her eyes locked onto mine. I followed her into our bedroom, and as she let our hands drop to our sides, she leaned into me, looking down and resting her forehead against my chest.

“I want you,” she whispered.

“I’m yours.”

I shivered as she skimmed her nails down my back. She was igniting me, and she knew it. My little vixen. I reached down and slowly unbuttoned the shirt that now stood in the way of what I wanted. As I finished the last button, I swept the shirt off of her shoulders and took her in.

I kissed her softly, nipping her lip with my teeth, tasting strawberry and wax in the lip-gloss she wore. Deep in need, she wrestled to unbutton my jeans. I pushed her back onto the bed, where she lay staring up at me. Her expression was heavy with passion, and I wanted her . . . I needed her.

I nestled my head in the hollow of her neck, groaning as the soft scent of her vanilla perfume registered in my brain. I breathed it in deeply and trailed kisses along the soft curve of her ear, relishing in the way she sighed, and turned her head to the side for more.

Looking back at me, she held my gaze with her passionate, brown eyes wide. I smoothed her hair back and ran my fingers down the side of her face and neck, settling on her shoulder. I slid the strap of her lacy, blue bra over her shoulder. She bit her bottom lip and slipped her arms out. My breath caught as I popped the button of her jeans open and lowered the zipper, watching her while I pulled them off and kicked them to the floor.

I braced my weight with my arms on either side of her while she pulled the hem of my shirt up and over my head, lifting each hand in turn before tossing it aside. My back arched as she ran her fingertips down its length, resting at the waist of my unbuttoned jeans.

I kissed her again, drawing back to see the love in her eyes. She smiled coyly as she pulled me back to her, embracing me in a kiss that had both of us breathing in fast, shallow breaths.

As I reached down and pushed my jeans off, I hovered above her and took what she offered. Her soft body pressed against mine. I began, slow and teasing. I knew how it drove her crazy, so I gave her what she wanted, what her eyes told me she needed, and taking what she gave me in return. I got lost in her.

Gage woke me up with a lick to my hand. I stretched my arms above my head and sat up before kicking my legs over the side of the bed and patting his head.

“Mornin,’ Gage,” I said. “Well, come on then. Let’s go outside.”

He padded behind me, nudging me on. I laughed as I grabbed his harness and leash then tip-toed to the front door so I wouldn’t wake Sam up.

While I was waiting for Gage to do his business, I scrolled through the pictures on my phone. I came across the one I snapped of my new car and texted it to John. Well, it was new to me anyway. I’d bought that blue ’69 Chevy Malibu I’d seen on the way to the dog park. I was so happy to be rid of the rental. Fortunately, they’d cut me a good deal.

I came across a picture of Sam and me from our last night in Hawaii. An older couple was nice enough to take the snapshot for us. Sam had demanded I text it to her immediately. I had laughed at her impatience, earning me a swift smack on my ass. I chuckled at the good memory.

Gage came running back over to me.

“You all done there, buddy?” I asked with a pat to his head. “Well, let’s get back inside.”

It was pretty brisk out for Alabama. We had another cold front come in. I filled Gage’s food and water bowls, then went back into our bedroom and crawled under the covers with Sam. I rolled over to my side and watched her sleeping peacefully. I lightly ran my fingers through her hair as her eyes fluttered open and locked onto mine.

“Good morning,” she whispered.

“Morning Peach,” I said. “Did you sleep well?”

She stretched out. “Mmm hmm. I slept really well. What time is it?”

“A little after nine,” I answered.

Her eyes opened wide, and she jumped out of bed. “We gotta get ready if we’re going to make it to Riley’s in time.” She ran around, grabbing clothes from drawers. “I’m going to jump in the shower. Can you take Gage out?” she called on her way to the bathroom.

“Yeah, I already took him out. I’ll put some bagels in the toaster and make us some coffee.”

When I heard the water turn off in Sam’s shower, I set our bagels and coffee out on the breakfast bar. I sat and sipped my coffee as I waited for her to join me.

We arrived at Riley’s a few hours later. As Sam and I pulled into the driveway, we saw Tamron and Quinn getting out of Quinn’s truck.

“Hey, guys!” Sam yelled.

“Sam! Emmett!” Tamron called back.

Quinn waved as he guided Tamron into the house. When we got inside, we saw John, Riley, and Alison sitting in the living room. Alison jumped up and ran over to Sam and Tamron, and the girls took off for the kitchen. I dropped down onto the couch next to John and nodded my hello to Riley, while Quinn got comfortable in the recliner.

“Damn, man, I really miss my chair,” Quinn sighed.

We broke out in laughter as Riley shook his head.

“You could have taken it with you, man,” Riley said.

“Yeah . . . no. You know Tamron hates this chair. It doesn’t go with anything else in the house,” Quinn huffed.

“Just lay it down, Quinn,” John said.

Quinn looked at John, “Lay what down?”

Riley and I both looked at John, too, waiting for his explanation.

“The fucking law, man. Lay it down. You like the chair . . . take it home. It’s your chair. Let her get used to it,” John said with a smirk.

Riley swung his head back around to look at John. “Did you forget who Tamron is?”

“Yeah, man, ‘pick your battles’ my dad always used to say. Sadly, my comfortable, broken-in chair isn’t one of them. A happy wife equals a happy life, as the old adage goes. We may not be married, but well, y’all know my Tamron. We may as well be,” Quinn finished.

“I’m gonna grab a beer,” I said laughing.

“Yeah me too,” John said.

We walked down the hall toward the kitchen. “Hey, man, can we talk out back?”

“Sure,” I replied then walked into the kitchen and stole a quick kiss from Sam. “Hey, girls. Just grabbing a couples beers and going out back.”

“Okay, love you,” Sam said as her eyes lit up with a smile.

“Love you, too,” I said, kissing her on the forehead as I passed her again on my way out to the back doors.

John followed me out, and we ended up sitting up on the brick wall again.

“So, what’s up, man?” I asked.

“Well, I just wanted to see how you and Peachy are doing, you know, since the miscarriage,” he said quietly.

“Oh. Yeah. We’re doing okay. It’s hard still, but we finally talked about it and named the baby Dakota Bailey Walker so we could grieve and remember. Every time we discussed what happened, the only way we had to describe the baby was as it, which upset us both. Since we didn’t know if the baby was a boy or girl, we couldn’t say him or her, so naming the baby helped,” I answered.

“Dakota Bailey. That’s nice, man. Real nice.”

“Look, John, Sam still doesn’t want anyone else to know. She knows I told you, but she trusts you won’t say anything to anyone else, not even the girls. She just doesn’t want to deal with everyone saying how sorry they are, constantly bringing it back up. Neither of us can take that,” I added.