Page 19

T he sun hangs low, lazy and golden, like it’s in no rush to leave this perfect day behind.

Most of the Crew are stretched out like satisfied cats— some floating in the pool, some lounging on deck chairs, bellies full and smiles soft .

There’s a contentment in the air that feels heavy in the best way. Like gravity has loosened its grip, just a little, and everyone’s just existing in peace.

I’m curled up in one of the oversized loungers, damp towel wrapped around me, the last of the sun-drenched breeze skimming over my arms.

Someone passes around a bowl of grapes and melon, and there’s a tray of empty sandwich plates nearby.

I think I saw Rosie sneak off with the last brownie, which seems like a fair trade for how adorable she is.

The chatter is soft, distant.

Then the women start to move—first Avery, stretching with a groan and patting her bump like it’s a sleepy roommate.

Jez follows her, muttering something about needing lemon for the next batch of iced tea.

Penny rises last, brushing off her shorts.

“You coming?” she asks me.

I nod and slide to my feet, padding barefoot across the warm stone.

Zeke’s back in the water, arms draped on the edge, head tipped back toward the sky— and yet I feel him watching me.

That silent heat, the way his gaze makes my skin tighten and my pulse skip.

I like it.

Too much.

He winks and I feel my blush burn my cheeks, but I don’t wink back. I’m too giggly to make it look cool like he does.

I duck into the house after the girls, following the sounds of clinking glass and the scent of cut citrus.

Jez is already pouring sugar into the tea pitcher like she’s trying to summon the South, and Avery’s cutting strawberries.

I grab a knife and start in on the peaches.

Penny’s quiet for a second, then glances over her shoulder at me.

“So,” she says casually. “You and Zeke. Getting kinda serious, huh?”

I pause, peach juice slick on my fingers. I don’t look at her right away.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I mean, it’s Memorial Day Weekend. Summer fun, and all that stuff.”

“Is that right?” she asks, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.

Hell. I don’t even believe me.

“I mean, we’re both consenting adults. And with the way you’re all blissfully paired up, it’s practically contagious once you get on the ranch. Or maybe it’s just the climate.”

Penny doesn’t interrupt.

And I know I’m talking too much, but I can’t help it.

“I like him. A lot. He’s, I mean, Zeke is different,” I continue.

“He is that. So, do you think you two are gonna make a go of it?” she asks a little too casually.

“Well, I mean, I’m not from here. I don’t even know if I’m staying.”

“What do you mean, Cas?” Avery asks.

“Nothing,” I shrug, knowing I can’t give it away. My safety depends on my secrecy, but I hate it all the same.

“I have obligations. Stuff I can’t walk away from, even if I wanted to.”

Penny nods, slow and patient. Avery frowns and the other ladies continue with what they are doing, but I know they’re listening, too.

It’s not unwelcome. In fact, quite the opposite.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t had girlfriends in a long time. But whatever the reason, I really feel a camaraderie with these women.

But I’m not dumb. I understand that Zeke is one of them. And I wish for a moment that I could just throw caution to the wind and say yeah, I’m in this for the long haul.

But how can I do that when I don’t even know what tomorrow will bring? If I’ll ever be free of the far-reaching grip of the D’Angelo family?

I won’t tell them about that. I can’t. And I wouldn’t want to put any of them in danger, either.

That was my burden to bear. But maybe I could ease their concerns a little bit.

“Look guys, I know you care about Zeke, and the fact is this is really new. All of this.”

“Cas, we care about you too,” Avery says and warmth spreads through me even if she doesn’t mean it the same way they all do for Zeke.

“I appreciate that. All I can say is the way he makes me feel, it’s not something I’m used to. But I also don’t want to hurt him, Penny. That’s not my intention at all.”

I finally meet her eyes. I have to admit, I don’t know her well, but she feels like the leader here. She is kind and gracious, tough as nails, too.

Sure, we’ve met a few times, but I want her to like me. I really do.

“I’ve been through enough to know life doesn’t hand out guarantees. For all I know, Zeke doesn’t see me as anything more than some weekend fun.”

I shrug, even though the idea of that being true sends a pang of hurt through me.

Penny dries her hands on a dish towel and leans against the counter. Her expression is thoughtful, not judging, not even particularly surprised.

“You might be wrong about some of that,” she says gently.

I blink. “About what?”

“The no guarantees part. And the Zeke sees you as a weekend of fun part.”

She smiles, just a little. And for some reason, I feel hope bubbling to life inside of me.

“You know, Cas, sometimes life surprises you. And other times, love does.”

Before I can answer, there’s a low whistle from outside—Dante calling for his wife.

Avery laughs and hollers back that she’s on her way.

I reach for the tea pitcher, trying not to tremble under the weight of Penny’s words.

Because maybe, just maybe , she’s right.

And maybe the thing I’ve been running from for longer than these few months, for my whole life really, isn’t danger or heartbreak.

Maybe it’s the terrifying, impossible hope that something real could last.

Something real with a man like Zeke Gordon.

Something real right here.

Something real that even I can’t get wrong.

The women file out of the kitchen one by one, their laughter echoing down the hall and out onto the stone patio where the rest of the Crew waits.

Did I mention I love that they call themselves that—a Crew?

Anyway, I’m the last one left behind, standing in a quiet that hums too loud inside my head.

Just me, a pitcher of peach iced tea, and the gnawing ache in my chest that refuses to be ignored.

I don’t know what I’m doing.

That’s the honest truth.

This— him —was never part of the plan.

Zeke Gordon, with his smoldering eyes and ranch-forged body and the way he looks at me like he already memorized how I taste, how I sound when I fall apart.

I keep telling myself this can’t last, that it’s temporary.

A distraction.

A fleeting reprieve from a life that’s waiting to crash down on me the second I leave this ranch.

But my heart isn’t listening.

My body definitely isn’t listening.

And right now, I’m not even sure I want it to.

I take a deep breath, about to move— about to do something, anything —when I feel it.

That shift in the air.

A low thrum that curls down my spine and makes my breath catch.

Then— his voice.

“Need any help, Petals?”

The words are simple, but the way he says them?

Like he’s speaking straight to the part of me that still believes in magic.

His growly tone slides through me, lighting every nerve with awareness.

I turn, and there he is.

Zeke.

Big. Broad. Barefoot.

A little damp from the pool, his shirt long gone, droplets clinging to the hard lines of his chest like they’re blessed to be there. Trailing over that hauntingly beautiful piece of ink tattooed over his heart.

It’s beautiful work. Just like him.

And he’s watching me.

Not politely. Not subtly.

He’s watching me like I’m his last meal.

Without giving myself a second to second-guess it, I move.

One step forward is all it takes to close the distance— and then I’m pressing into him, my palms flat against warm, sun-kissed skin that flexes under my touch.

He’s so solid, so real, and everything inside me softens and tightens at once.

Zeke growls. An honest-to-God, deep-in-his-chest growl that feels like it shakes the air around us.

His hands land on my waist, firm and possessive, like he needs to hold me or he might combust.

I tilt my face up toward his, breath shaky.

“I’m not trying to be impulsive,” I whisper. “But I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

His eyes darken, the purple hue flickering like candlelight behind blue flame.

“You don’t have to pretend, Petals. Not with me.”

Then his mouth is on mine.

And everything else falls away.

The kiss is hard and hungry, but there’s worship in it too.

A kind of desperate reverence, like he’s memorizing my taste.

His tongue brushes mine and I moan, shameless and soft, curling my fingers into his back.

When we break apart, I’m breathless, dizzy.

Floating.

“Dinner isn’t for a while,” I manage, voice thin with need.

“Is that so?” His voice is like smoke and sex and heat.

“Uh huh.”

He cocks his head. “You asking me something, Petals?”

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to spend some time alone. With me.”

His gaze rakes over me, full of barely restrained hunger.

I feel like prey and treasure all at once.

Wanted. Claimed. Desired so fiercely I tremble.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, like he needs to hear me say it.

“Yes, Zeke. I want to spend some time alone with you.”

His grin is feral. “Then let’s not waste another damn second.”

And just like that, the last of my defenses crumbles.

Because I know— I know —this man will ruin me for anyone else.

And I’m about to let him.