Page 10

D inner was a rambunctious affair.

Smoke, laughter, beer, and way too many people talking over each other while pretending they weren’t trying to one-up Max’s grilling skills.

Spoiler alert: no one beats the Jersey Devil’s steak rub.

I can’t say I have a lot of experience with big family barbecues.

Not the real kind.

You know, the kind with kids running half-feral, music playing through a duct-taped speaker, and couples slipping off into the shadows for just a minute that lasts two hours.

But I didn’t hate it.

Didn’t hate the way everyone seemed to fit, like some messy puzzle that still made sense even with a few corners scorched or bent.

Didn’t hate watching Casey laugh over a plate of food like she wasn’t carrying the weight of something heavy and dangerous behind her eyes.

Didn’t hate sitting next to her, feeling the heat of her thigh brush mine every now and then as if the universe was daring me to lean just a little closer.

And then there was Kian.

Bastard made us play a round of corn hole after dessert, claiming we needed to move or die .

Bullshit.

Pun intended.

That bovine bastard just wanted an excuse to meddle.

Had a shit-eating grin plastered across his face the whole damn time—especially when he announced, with the enthusiasm of a man who’s been newly laid and can’t stop playing matchmaker, that we’d be doing boy-girl teams.

Naturally, I got paired with Casey.

Naturally, I didn’t complain.

And naturally, he got beaned in the face with a well-aimed bag about ten minutes in.

Which I definitely didn’t throw out of spite.

It was strategy.

Precision.

Possibly divine intervention.

Either way, he spent the rest of the night with a frozen bag of peas on his forehead and a smile that told me he knew exactly what he was doing.

Fucker.

Seems like the Bull Shifter thinks everyone should be paired off now that he’s all happy and mated, walking around with that smug glow like the world finally got it right.

If only it were that easy.

If only finding your person— your mate —was something that ended in a game, a laugh, and a barbecue kiss goodnight.

But it isn’t.

Not for me, anyway.

Because I’ve found her.

She’s right here.

Sitting under the fading light of day in a sundress that’s driving me half-mad.

Laughing at Arliss’s jokes, licking barbecue sauce from her thumb with zero awareness of what it’s doing to me.

And she doesn’t know what I am.

She doesn’t know what we are.

Doesn’t know that every second I spend near her, my fire flares a little brighter.

That every word she tosses my way is another thread tying me to her.

That my Dragon— once dying, fading —is thriving in her presence and whispering one thing on repeat.

Es meus.

But fate’s a cruel thing.

It doesn’t come with instructions.

And it sure as hell doesn’t guarantee a happy ending.

So yeah, I played the game. Ate the ribs. Let Kian run his mouth. Let her brush against me under the table while pretending I wasn’t coming undone.

Because even if I don’t deserve her, even if I can’t have her for keeps, I can still steal these moments.

Pretend I’m just a man.

Pretend she’s just a woman.

And pretend the fire between us isn’t already burning out of control.

The fire pit crackles low, the last of the flames licking at half-burned logs like it’s not ready to say goodnight either.

Everyone else is gone now.

Max and Penny were the first to retreat, her soft laugh echoing as he scooped up one sleepy twin in each arm like they were the most precious things in the world.

Dante followed, muttering something about his girls and hoisting Avery into his arms like a man who still can’t believe his luck. Even with all her grumbling and swatting at him, the pregnant female melted into him like it was second nature.

Kian and Arliss went next, Rosie tucked under one arm, snoring softly, her little curls tangled and her bear plush clutched tight. They’d drop the cub off with Dante on the way to their own cabin.

Emmet and Jez had vanished a few minutes ago, whispering and smiling in that way that made it impossible not to see the darkness they’d both crawled through to reach each other.

Jed lingered longer, strumming his guitar low and slow, the notes settling in the bones like a memory.

Then he packed it up, called to his beloved goats— Dolly Lou, Dolly Mae, and Dolly Beth —and wandered off into the night like he was born of it.

Now, it’s just me left.

Me and her.

Casey sits across the fire, hugging her knees, rocking gently back and forth on the edge of a worn blanket.

The last of the s’mores long gone.

Her lips are still sticky-sweet with chocolate and marshmallow and something that’s been undoing me all night.

That goddamn sundress is riding up her thighs, the firelight dancing over her skin like it knows what I’m thinking.

What I’m barely keeping myself from doing.

She brushes a strand of hair from her face, unaware— or pretending to be —that I’ve been watching her through half-lidded eyes for the last hour.

Like I’m starved.

And she’s every goddamn course.

My zipper’s tight. Too tight.

Been that way since she licked frosting from her finger after dessert and laughed at one of Kian’s awful dad jokes.

My Dragon’s prowling under my skin, low and lazy now.

No longer agitated.

No longer patient either.

She glances up at me, her smile soft. Her voice even softer.

“I should probably put the fire out.”

“No.”

She tilts her head. “No?”

“There’s no way that fire’s going out.”

She doesn’t know what I’m really talking about.

She can’t know.

But still, there’s recognition in her amber eyes as she gazes at me.

Casey stills, her eyes locking on mine.

“Zeke,” she whispers into the night and fuck me, but it sounds like a prayer.

A plea maybe.

I’m not sure.

All I know is my name on her lips is enough to make me shift forward, slow and deliberate.

She doesn’t move.

Not away.

Not toward.

She just stays put and watches me, wide-eyed.

The reflection of the flames catches in the gold-brown of her irises like they were made to glow.

“I tried,” I say roughly. “Tried to stay away. Thought I could keep things simple. But there’s nothing simple about you, Casey.”

Her breath hitches.

I reach for her, one hand threading into her hair as I close the last of the space between us.

“And if I don’t kiss you right now, I swear I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

She swallows, and I move.

I kiss her.

And it’s not gentle.

It’s not soft.

It’s teeth and tongue and heat and hunger.

It’s a growl deep in my chest as her lips part and her hands fist in my shirt like she needs something to hold on to.

She tastes like fire and sweetness.

Like danger and salvation.

Like every goddamn dream I didn’t let myself have.

She gasps into my mouth when I pull her into my lap, her thighs straddling me like they belong there.

I grip her hips, guiding her down, letting her feel exactly what she’s doing to me.

Her moan? Fuck.

It rips straight through me, waking up every inch of my Dragon.

The kiss deepens. Darkens.

My tongue claims hers, slow and possessive.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling just enough to make me groan.

When I finally tear my mouth from hers, I press my forehead to hers, both of us breathing like we’ve run miles.

Her voice is barely a whisper.

“What is this?”

Her hands clench over my heart and fuck, it’s like she’s dug beneath my skin and is holding the thing in her hands.

But isn’t she, though?

“This,” I murmur, brushing my lips across her jaw, her neck, the shell of her ear. “Is something I can’t fight anymore.”

And then I kiss her again.

And again.

And again.

Until the fire’s the least dangerous thing burning between us.