Page 87

I lean in, and it never gets old. His mouth touches mine, and heat runs up my spine. He clutches me close, licking forward with his tongue for just a moment before letting go. He sets me down and tucks me under his arm to walk me to the van waiting to take us home.

"So? Everything go smoothly?"

"Yup." I'm free and clear. A sizable deposit should be sitting in my account by the end of the week. It's a relief to have the whole matter of my grandmother's estate behind me.

Best of all, it makes things really official. Really settled.

I live down the road now, with my five partners.

These past six months, we've worked hard to find our balance. It's still a work in progress, but what we're doing works for us. I chip in toward the bills and help Deandre in the workshop. I cook once a week and do the dishes on weekends.

I work on my art. I tutor a few students in town on Tuesday afternoons. I have a life.

And I also have love. So, so much love.

I lean into Adam's side a little harder, soaking up his warmth. With a chuckle, he dips down to press a kiss to the top of my head, and I preen.

The guys' truck is idling in the parking lot across from the law office. Adam opens the passenger side door for me, and I climb in.

"Hey, baby girl," Deandre says from the driver's seat. He clamps a big hand on my thigh, and there's promise there, in the way he strokes his fingertips across the seam of my jeans. I shiver.

We didn't exactly have a discussion about it, but it only stands to figure that the sale of my grandmother's house is reason for celebration. Tonight is going to be special—I can feel it.

Deandre sure seems up for it. As Adam climbs into the back seat behind me, Deandre swoops in, claiming my mouth, and I let him in happily. He tastes like coffee and desire. Even after all this time, he has the power to possess me. To make me weak in the knees.

Humming, he pulls away, and it's a good thing, too. His kiss makes me so wet, I'm half ready to climb right on and ride him here in the parking lot. But being open about my unconventional living arrangements is one thing; actually having sex in public is another.

Though maybe someday…

I clench down inside. In the rearview mirror, I meet Sergio's eyes. He raises a brow knowingly, and I flush hot.

Yeah. It's going to be a really, really good night.

I let my fantasies spin out as Deandre puts the van into gear. He puts on some of his sexy music, and man, that doesn't help matters, but I'm not exactly one to complain.

I do have some other things to think about besides the growing need between my legs, though. Fighting to focus, I pullout my phone and text my dad, letting him know that the closing went smoothly. He replies with his thanks. We trade a couple more messages back and forth; it's about as much catching up as we ever do, but it's warm enough.

About a month after my return, once the guys and I started settling into a new equilibrium, I bit the bullet and admitted to my father that I had moved into the old Tucker place. He'd expressed some concern, but I'd promised him that I was happy and well cared for, and he had left it at that. He hadn't asked if I was there just as Cayden's friend or as something more. I hadn't volunteered. But when he does eventually probe deeper, I won't lie. I live the way I want to, and I have nothing to hide.

The small town at the base of the mountain slides away as we drive. Before I know it, we're climbing the twisting road up Lonely Peak. The 'SOLD' sign sits, bright and cheerful, at the bottom of the fork that would lead up to my grandmother's house—or, what used to be my grandmother's house until about ten minutes ago. It was bought by some reclusive rock star or something. I didn't ask for the details. All I know is that the guy intends to live there for at least a few months of the year, and that he doesn't plan to tear the place down entirely, and that was all I needed to know. Eventually, I'll meet my new neighbor.

For now, though, I'm focused on the house appearing in front of me.

The old Tucker place.

My home.

And it's exactly, exactly where I want to be.

While Deandre, Adam and Sergio unload the stuff from the supply run they carried out while I was dealing with paperwork, I head on in.

The whole place has a slightly different vibe than it did when I first arrived. There might not be fussy coasters or vases, but one of my paintings hangs on the wall in the living room. Thesmall guest room I was first installed in has become my studio, while I now have my own bedroom, decorated in precisely my taste, with a big king bed that I occasionally invite my lovers into—when I'm not sharing their beds, that is.

It's good. Perfect.Right.

"Uh-oh," Jax says, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. "I know that smile."

"You do?" I unwind my scarf from around my neck and hang it up with my jacket. I leave my boots behind, too, padding over to him in my stocking feet.