Page 72 of Ly to Me (Devils of Alliston Springs #1)

Lyra

N ora nudged into my chest, crinkling the note in my breast pocket as I placed flakes of hay into her bin. It was yet another note I’d add to my collection after reading it a few more times. I leaned against her stall and pulled it out, unfolding it carefully.

Image of a note, which reads: My little Ly, Told Leo I could only work for a few hours today.

Heard that bar down the road is hosting another dance night, one with a cake and Dolly Parton selections added to the playlist. Can’t wait to see you when I get home and wish you a proper happy birthday before the rest of the town has a chance to. Love, Your Car

B snorted from her stall when I was done, sending bits of hay and dust into the air directly above me. It’s funny how I thought I was a problematic woman when Carver had two mares in his barn the whole time.

Laughable, really.

“I should threaten you both with a stallion.” I pocketed the note and stood, brushing the hay from my shoulders. “How does that sound?” Both horses stomped.

I could almost hear my husband asking why I finally decided to splurge on a male horse, having no interest in spending the millions we had sitting in the bank before.

With Jamie giving us the facility without a single dime going his way, we had more than either of us knew what to do with.

The thought made me grin as I flaked off another chunk and brought it to the donkey.

“Here ya go, George.” I bent in, rubbing the top of his head, which I could tell he hated.

He was a typical ass, both in the sense he was a donkey and a jerk.

But, apparently, having one animal named ‘Dick’ and the other ‘Ass’ wasn’t flyin’ with my husband.

George was easily agreed upon as a fitting name. One Car’s dad would be happy with.

Almost like the gift I had planned out for my husband. Alright, maybe not almost. Not even close. But I knew he’d love it once it was done. And as a white lifted truck pulled into the driveway, I dusted my hands and headed toward the house.

“Car should be home soon,” I hollered at Grant as he gathered a bag from his backseat. I thought I heard him muttering to himself about Car murdering him, but I shrugged it off as I entered the house, leaving the front door wide open.

Grant came in and got to work setting out what he needed on the dining room table, now complete with six brand new chairs around it.

We still hadn’t replaced the frames we shook from the hallway walls, which was probably for the best. They would’ve been destroyed damn near every other day.

The most important photos—one of Carver with his parents, and the other of him and I on the day of our graduation—were anchored in place with a nail gun.

“We’re waiting for him to get home, right?”

“If he walked in and saw me spread-eagle on the couch, do you think—”

“Alright. Waiting. Got it.” Grant’s shoulders fell like that was a relief.

An old Ford truck came into view through the windows. “He’s pulling up now,” I said.

Grant nodded and pulled out a case. “Do you have a particular one in mind?”

I didn’t need to look at the case. I’d been researching what I’d like and wanted for over a month now.

“Grant.” My husband’s eyes were on me, though he said his friend’s name. Then he finally looked at what was set up on the table, and his fist tightened at his side. “What the fuck is all this?”

“The triangle,” I finally replied to Grant.

Car’s eyes widened. “Fuck no.”

“I tried tellin’ her you wouldn’t let me.”

“You want that?” Car asked and I immediately nodded. His jaw worked as he stared at the sterilized needle still in a bag. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“You could damage the nerves, and if I teach you, I’ll have to be looking anyway.”

Carver shook his head in his hand. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

I giggled and took a seat on the couch.

“I’ve done them before. My focus is always on the metal, not the—” Grant cleared his throat. “I won’t look at nothin’ I don’t need to look at.”

“How do I do this? Do I lay back?” I was already in one of Car’s button-downs. Only one of his button-downs. Sans pants. Probably another whoopsie on my end for my husband to walk in with me like this and his friend standing right there.

Grant may have been right about Car wanting to murder him.

“You’ll sit on my lap, Ly,” Carver ordered, already settling in next to me on the couch.

Next thing I knew, I was in his lap, his palms cupping the insides of my thighs, spreading me wide.

His thumbs stroked my sensitive skin as he tsked.

“Already without panties, sweetheart?” he whispered against the shell of my ear.

“I should fuck you and make him watch so he knows that you’re mine. ”

I jabbed my elbow back, hitting his side. “You’ve already made it quite clear to everyone in this town who I belong to.”

“I have no dreams of dyin’,” Grant added, stepping around, doing exactly as he said he would and keeping his focus on my husband. “Ready?”

“Yep,” I answered instantly.

“You are aware this will hurt like a bitch, right?”

“She’s well-the-fuck aware,” my husband replied.

“Hold her legs apart more.” Grant sat in the chair he’d pulled from the dining room. “Don’t let them snap shut.”

Grant kept a methodical face as he shifted to look down, but still, the growl from Carver’s chest rumbled through mine. “You look anywhere else, I’ll shoot you. I don’t care that you’re my best friend.”

“You fuck with this piercing job and I’ll shoot you right back.”

“You’d already be dead, asshole.”

Grant’s lips barely moved as he replied, “Says you. Now shut the fuck up so I can focus.”

Seconds later, a tight pinch sent shivers up my spine, and my nipples tightened. Carver’s thumb stroked my relaxed thighs while one hand traveled up, covering my mouth just before a moan tried to escape.

“You like how it feels?” Car’s hand didn’t move from my mouth, so I hoped my glance at him would answer for me.

“Almost…there, and…done.” Grant leaned back, his eyes solely on his tools. “See you both tonight.”

Heat flooded my cheeks as Grant stood from his chair and started putting his things back into his bag.

“You’re bein’ bad, little Ly.” My husband’s sharp tone rang through the walls as Grant shut the door behind him. “I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

I pushed back against him, sighing. “Very.”

He groaned as he shifted me by my hips, his cock hard against my ass while he looked down at me from over my shoulder. “Spread your pretty little legs. Let me see.”

I did as he said, leaning back more to give him a better view. His growl of approval was all I needed.

“Metal really is the hottest fucking thing on you, sweetheart.” He kissed my neck, dipping his hand between us to pop his jeans. “Now let me give you that proper birthday present before we have to go.”

Carver

10 Months Later

“You in here?”

“In the back!” Lyra shouted, her voice distant but closer than I thought I’d ever hear in this place.

A full year had gone by since I’d forced her to sign a contract. Since I made her my wife and made her agree to staying with me for thirty whole days in the hopes that she’d squirm under the pressure.

“Hungry?”

“Starved,” she replied as I got closer, following the shuffling of branches and the barrage of colors swarming in the air. They congregated around her every time she entered the Sanctuary—now called Lyra’s Haven—fluttering their vibrant wings, landing on her shoulders and hands as she worked.

She didn’t know a lot about the plants, but after a few months, she’d become a natural. I planted my palms on her waist, the sunshine smell enveloping me as I bent into her neck and kissed her softly.

“I brought lunch.” I lifted a basket and swung it in front of her.

“In here?”

I shrugged as she turned to face me. “Why not?”

She found the loopholes of my jeans and slid her fingers into them. “Was kinda hopin’ we could go home for a little while.”

I looked down at the dirt covering her shirt and knees, my dick not giving two-shits but dammit if feeding her hadn’t become my normal. “Go wash up real quick in the bathroom down the hall. I’ll set this out so we can eat first .”

She smiled, and as she hurried away, I watched her movements.

Lyra moved differently now. The shift in her hadn’t been sudden like I pictured the day I ended his life for her.

It had been slow, but steady—like her caterpillars and chrysalises that turned into the beautiful butterflies flying freely above us.

Over time, it was clear she felt safe. At peace, like she deserved. She moved like the air supplied her with the life she’d been missing for years. Most of her life, really.

She sauntered back in and eyed the basket still in my hand.

“Looks like you’ve been real busy,” she teased, taking the basket from me as she laughed.

And that laugh .

That laugh was all I needed to know that she was the only one I wanted in this world.

As long as Lyra Roland was by my side, I’d feel whole.

As long as I had her, I needed nothing else.

I was hers, and she was mine—just like it should’ve always been.

She was my entire world, and for once, I had my world right where it should’ve always been—

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