Page 102

“Nope.” His thumb presses into my hip. “They want you to come to the house once the season is over, so that you can meet everyone.”

“Is that what you want?”

“They’re my family. Of course I want you to meet them. But,” his eyes sweep over me and his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, “right now I’m too distracted by you in that shirt.”

“You want me to keep it on?”

“Fuck no, it’ll look even better on the floor.”

He wastes no time, stripping both of us down to nothing in a heartbeat, and tossing me on the bed. To my surprise he doesn’t make a move, instead, winding our bodies together, more content to just be close than anything else. Poor Jefferson may not get the show he was hoping for.

“You know,” he says suddenly, “I never thanked you.”

I crane my neck to look at him. “For what?”

“For walking in that door on Valentine's Day and kissing me.”

I laugh at the memory because oh my god what had I been thinking? “Well, I want to thank you for giving me the courage to be more than a housewife in Texas.”

I run my finger over his tattoo, tracing over the number eight.

“I’m going to need to update that.”

“Yeah?”

He looks down at me, and if I ever thought I knew what love looked like before I met Reid, I was wrong. “I thought that when the Wilder’s adopted me, that was it. That was the definition of family. That they would be my final home,” his fingers skim over my chin, lifting my face to his, “but then you came along and I realized that it’s not about the location. It’s about the person.”

With everything coming our way; my new life. Reid’s career. The uncertainty and upheaval, of the two of us finding our path. He’s right. I feel it in my bones. It doesn’t matter where we live, or whatever we do, as long as we have one another we’ll both be home.