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But that’s a dilemma for tomorrow. Maybe next week. Right now, I just want a few more minutes with them.

“Stop here,” I whisper when I spot the clearing.

Lachlan follows my orders and pulls the truck around in the confined circle. He positions it to face the way we’d come. Smart; by the time we leave, he might not be able to see the path in the dark.

“Why do I feel like we’re being led to a sacrifice?” Van murmurs, eyeing the tangle of branches canopying us from the sky. A cluster of leaves that nearly blocks out the sun. Here, the air is cool and peppered with the sweet scent of pine.

I tip my face and meet his gaze with a tiny smirk. “Maybe you are.”

“Is it the sex kind?” he teases, and I laugh.

“You say that until the penis chopper comes out.”

Van grimaces. “Why is it always the penis getting sacrificed?”

My burst of laughter has the corner of his mouth quirking. It’s only a second before it’s pressed into mine.

We’re both still grinning when he draws back.

“Fine. I accept,” he grumbles. “Damn thing belongs to you anyway.”

Moving like it’s the most natural thing in the world, I kiss the tip of his nose. “Wouldn’t look the same on me.”

It’s his turn to throw his head back and roar. A deep, gravely sound that rips from his chest. It’s a feral, unhinged sound that stirs something in the pit of my stomach and has my thighs pressing closed.

“What is this place anyway?” Lachlan interjects, head cocked, staring up through the windshield at the heavy tangle of branches overhead.

“Well, you know Dad used to work for the town’s preservation office. Back when he started, his job was tree marker. He’d go out and assess which areas were safe for harvesting and needed protecting. One day, he took a wrong turn and stumbled on the clearing. He always said it wasn’t on any official map, like it had been forgotten. Technically, it might sit in some kind of no-man’s land, too remote for anyone to care about. But he never told anyone about it. Nearly every weekend, he’d pack up our gear and take me out here. Just the two of us.” I give a soft chuckle I don’t feel. “It’s funny because he swore me to secrecy. Did the whole pinkie promise and everything not to tell anyone.”

I trail off pressing my lips together, feeling stupid and a little embarrassed for the word vomit. Lachlan hadn’t asked for a history lesson.A clearingprobably would have been enough. Bron always said I talk too much.

The man next to me shifts. I glance at him, hesitation tight in my gut, expecting him to look equallyembarrassed by me. But I’m met with his pinkie extended. Not mocking or playful. It hovers between us with his eyes sweet and sincere on my face.

“Promise we won’t tell anyone.”

The knot in my throat swells too big to swallow and for a second, I can only stare at him. At the pinkie. The man holding it up.

It’s such a small thing, childish even, but the weight behind it hits me hard right in the sternum.

Gingerly, I loop mine through his.

He squeezes.

Then he draws my hand to his lips and kisses the knuckles. Each one in slow, even pecks. His warm eyes never lift off mine, not even when he turns my hand over and grazes my palm. The pulse inside my wrist.

I hear a distantclick,and the belt slips off my lap with a poke of his fingers. The drinks are stolen by Van as I’m yanked closer. Practically in his lap.

He kisses me, light with a sweet love that injects straight into my heart.

“To really seal it,” he murmurs against my lips.

I chuckle.

He gives me a small grin before drawing back.

Together, we make our way down out of the truck. I reach for the tray of drinks Van is holding along with all ourfood, but he shakes his head and pulls them out of reach only to push them into Lachlan’s hands.

“Do you have something we can lay down?” I ask Lachlan, realizing I probably should have asked that before we got this far.