Page 52 of Call It Love (Sterling Mill #5)

Anna

Four months later

I woke to the weight of Chase’s arm around my waist and the steady rise and fall of his breath at the back of my neck.

The window was cracked just enough to let in the cool bite of early fall.

Out in the newly enclosed pasture, Mary, Martha, George, and a young set of newly born twins bleated.

I snuggled deeper under the covers, loving it all.

Chase stirred, the faint scratch of stubble against my shoulder where he’d buried his face sometime during the night.

“Five more minutes,” he muttered, not opening his eyes.

I laughed softly. “Is that all you need?”

I felt his smile broaden against my skin. “I can do a lot in five minutes, I’ll have you know,” he murmured, his hand already sliding between my legs, which parted willingly for him. It only took the barest of touches, and I wanted him.

He rolled me over and palmed my breasts, his thumbs rubbing against the peaks and making them tighten.

“You fit my hand so perfectly,” he whispered, then he lowered his head and took one into his mouth.

I let out a moan as his tongue played with me.

My hips thrust forward, begging for more. He didn’t disappoint.

“Mmm. Look how easily you take me,” he praised as he slid into me, his gaze locked onto mine. “Absolute perfection, the way you welcome my cock. The way you grip me.” He pulled back, then took his time sliding back in.

My legs locked around his back. “I want more. Please.” I wasn’t above pleading.

“I want more, too,” he said. “I want this forever. I want everything from you. Marry me.”

I gripped his shoulders. “What?”

He beamed down at me, still rocking gently, causing little flutters in my core. “You heard me.”

“You’re choosing now to bring this up?”

He pressed a kiss against my lips. “I figured if I was going to make you scream ‘yes’ anyway…” He shrugged with a wicked grin and rocked against me again. “Still waiting for that answer, Blossom.” He pulled back and thrust deeper into me, causing me to whimper in pleasure.

“Oh, God. Yes,” I answered breathlessly. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes to forever.”

“Good answer.” He reached a hand between us and rubbed against my bundle of nerves. “Are you ready for me to make you come?”

“Yes!” I cried, as my hips rose to meet him. “Yes. To everything!”

His knowing smile faded as I pinched his nipples. His green eyes became pools of emerald fire as he wrapped his arms around me and pounded into me. I clung to his shoulders as he thrust deeply, over and over again. Small waves of promised bliss quivered against my walls.

“I love you, Anna.”

I opened my eyes to find him staring at me with some kind of wonder, somewhere between bliss and devotion. Those three words were all it took. I came hard, explosions of lights flickering across the backs of my eyelids as I clamped down around him. “I love you, too.”

He let loose a growl as he came, both of us riding out our orgasms together. His forehead dropped to mine as our bodies slowly stilled. After a slow kiss, he whispered, “Stay here.”

He walked over to the dresser and opened a drawer, returning with something clutched in his fingers. He knelt beside the bed. “This was my grandmother’s. I don’t think she could be prouder than for you to wear it.”

I sat up and looked down as he slid a ring on my finger, a beautiful vintage setting of a round diamond in the center, with smaller diamonds flanking either side of it, accented by tiny etchings on the side of the band.

“It’s beautiful, Chase. I’m honored.” I gave him a mock scowl. “Although, if anyone asks how you proposed, I suggest we make up an alternate story.”

The scent of cinnamon bread drifted from the kitchen. Late fall had arrived in Sterling Mill. The mountains showed off their reds and golds, and the air held a fresh crispness to it.

I sat on the steps leading up to the kitchen, arms folded against the breeze, watching Chase and Jordan toss a football back and forth. Jack barked from the sidelines, ever the referee. Every now and then, Jordan would break into a grin so wide it made my chest ache in the best way.

We weren’t quite a family. Not officially.

But some things didn’t need ink and paper to be true.

Still, the official part was in motion. A judge granted Chase full legal custody last month after a home study and what felt like a mountain of paperwork.

The adoption petition was filed shortly after.

It would take time, but we’d learned not to rush the good things.

Like the Christmas trees, things that were worth growing took time.

Behind me, the door creaked open. My mother stepped out, wiping her hands on a tea towel. She wore an apron and had a dab of flour on her cheek. I smiled and patted the space next to me.

“You’re going to make the boy fat,” I teased as she joined me at the fence. “Three loaves?”

“Four,” she said, her chin lifted in mock defiance. “It’s got to last a week, and he’s got that hollow-legged look. Besides, I enjoy feeding him.”

It still surprised me sometimes—how naturally she’d taken to helping me at the bunkhouse once in a while.

She’d started coming by after the barn dance, a little awkward at first. But somewhere along the way, she stopped waiting for permission and just showed up, always with canned goods or something she’d sewn for the house.

Almost always with something for Jordan.

And while my father still refused to come, he never tried to stop her.

Maybe someday he’d allow my mother to host us.

She was optimistic it would happen. I wasn’t, but I’d also learned that anything was possible, so I didn’t discourage her from trying.

On another visit from Mallory, she told me she had really watched me bloom since being at Silver Creek Farm.

At the time, I’d smiled and brushed it off, but the words stuck.

I realized it had happened to me twice, both times when I’d been folded into the Allen clan.

I was doubly blessed to watch it happen with Jordan, and now with my mother. A second bloom, for all of us.

Even with my mother helping with the bunkhouse meals, I stayed busy, carving my own place in Sterling Creek history.

That little phrase, Second Bloom , had taken on a life of its own.

It became the name of the brand I started—lavender soap, salves, hand-tied sachets.

I sold them at the farmer’s market in town once a month.

I had no plans to turn it into flashy or big like Calla Skincare.

But it was mine. Something I made with care and intention.

And now that my mom helped twice a week at the bunkhouse, I had more time to help Chase with his bookkeeping. It turned out that all my practice of organizing events meant I was good at keeping track of his orders and keeping his books for him.

After the success of the barn dance, I was occasionally asked to help plan other events. Right now, though, the only event I was interested in planning was our wedding, set to take place next spring with a reception in the same barn as the dance.

Even when the governor’s mansion committee chose a different tree this year—most likely swayed by my former father-in-law—neither of us took it too hard.

We were disappointed, but it didn’t change what we were building here.

And there would be other times. Times when James Washington no longer had any influence.

Chase had been quietly tipped off by another committee member that a formal ethics complaint had been filed, alleging that James Washington had used personal influence to steer the selection away from Silver Creek Farm.

It wasn’t the only scrutiny James Washington was facing.

Separate from the tree decision, he was now under investigation for fraud related to campaign contributions and awarding of contracts. Like father, like son.

“Go long!” Chase’s voice echoed across the field, and Jordan took off running, his laughter carried on the wind.

Chase looked up then, shading his eyes with one hand as he spotted us by the fence. His gaze found mine, the way it always did, and he smiled, making my heart skip a beat.

I used to think love had to come with sacrifice. That you had to give up pieces of yourself to make it work. To fit into someone else’s world. But now I knew better.

Real love didn’t shrink you. It made room. It gave you roots and light and the courage to grow. And I couldn’t wait to see where we bloomed next.