Page 34

34

Piper

I take the glass and sip, mostly to give myself a second to catch my breath. “Hey… can I ask you something not ankle or cow-related?”

“Shoot.”

“Tell me about Davidson. Just… everything. I want to know what we’re up against.”

His jaw tightens. “He’s been gunning for our land for years. Wants to build some ugly-ass casino—neon lights, blackjack tables, the whole Vegas-vomit look. He doesn’t have a real claim, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.”

I wrinkle my nose. “He sounds charming.”

“He’s a snake. Arson, sabotage, frivolous lawsuits—we’ve seen it all. He’s tried going after our water rights, our cattle, even slashed fences once.”

I blink. “Wait, slashed ?”

He nods grimly. “Blaze found a couple of guys pouring gas near one of our barns once. Ended up in the hospital after running them off.”

“Jesus.”

“And now the cattle thing? Just another dirty play in a long list of them.” He glances over. “Emma’s convinced Carter’s not involved, but none of us trust him. The timing’s too convenient.”

“So he could be, like, a Davidson double agent.”

“Wouldn’t shock me.”

I let that sit, the silence heavy. My fingers tighten around the glass, and the guilt makes another slow roll through my stomach. “This is all so messed up.”

Jake shrugs one broad shoulder. “It’s our normal. Ranching life: cows, chaos, and lawsuits.”

I smirk despite myself. “Catchy slogan.”

He moves like he’s about to stand, but I grab his hand before he gets far. “Wait. Don’t go.”

His gorgeous blue eyes catch mine. “Piper, you need rest.”

“I need you ,” I say—too fast, too much. I wince. “I mean, not in a clingy way. Just… don’t want to be alone.”

His expression softens. “You could’ve just said that, sweetheart.”

“I did —just with bonus awkwardness.”

He grins. “Always charming.”

Before I can reply, the front door bangs open. “Helloooo? Piper, honey, you alive in here?”

Jake shoots up and I sit bolt upright as Annie marches in like she owns the place, a giant Tupperware container in her arms. She’s trailed by Violet, India, and Luke—the trio bursting with energy, tracking mud and noise in equal measure. So much for alone time.

Violet makes a beeline for me on chubby legs, curls bouncing with every determined step. She skids to a stop beside the couch and stares at my propped-up foot like it personally offended her.

She points, then gently pats my shin with her tiny hand. “Bad cow?” she asks, eyes wide.

I nod solemnly. “Yep. Your dad saved me from a big ol’ cow.”

Annie sets the container down and gives Jake a once-over. “Still rescuing damsels, huh? You’ve been like this since you were seven and thought rescuing a goat from a pond made you a cowboy.”

“Worked, didn’t it?” Jake tosses back.

Meanwhile, Violet’s digging into the pocket of her overalls with deep toddler determination. She finally pulls out a slightly squashed wildflower and thrusts it at me.

“For you,” she says proudly. “Feel better.”

I nearly cry right there. “Thank you, baby girl. It’s perfect.”

“You guys are seriously gonna make me cry,” I warn.

Luke doesn’t say anything, but his brow furrows in concern. He hovers nearby like he’s ready to punch the cow that hurt me. For a five-year-old, he’s got solid bodyguard energy.

India nudges him like she can read his mind. The two of them have been best friends since forever, and even though they’re three years older than Violet, they treat her like she’s their honorary baby sister. Fiercely protective. Patient in that soft, sweet way little kids sometimes are without realizing it.

Violet cuddles tighter against my side, tiny fingers now playing with the hem of my blanket. She glances up at me again, her curls sticking to her forehead. “Hurts?” she asks quietly, her voice small and concerned.

I press a kiss to the top of her head. “No more cows tonight, I promise.”

Annie fusses over my ankle like she’s my country doctor and mom rolled into one. Jake catches my eye and mouths sorry , and I just smile. Honestly, it’s kinda nice.

As the chaos fades, Annie gathers the troops. “All right, kids. Say goodbye. Ranch chores wait for no one.”

Violet gives my leg one last pat and whispers, “Bye-bye, Piper.” Luke gives me a shy wave. India salutes.

Before she leaves, Annie pauses beside Jake and murmurs, “She fits, you know. Even if she doesn’t see it yet.”

He doesn’t reply, but I see the way his jaw ticks. When the door shuts behind them and the quiet returns, it’s like the air shifts. Softer. Heavier.

I sink back into the cushions, clutching the flower like a lifeline.

Jake sits beside me, arm curling around my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Better than I was.”

He studies me like he doesn’t quite believe it. “You sure?”

Not even close. But I nod anyway. “Sure.”

He leans in, brushes his lips across my temple. It’s barely a kiss, more like a soft hey, I’m here. But my whole body reacts like someone lit a fuse.

I turn my head and kiss him—slow, searching. The kind of kiss that says we both know it’s dangerous to feel this much but we’re doing it anyway.

My fingers grip his shirt. My body aches, not just from injury, but from the emotional storm still whirling inside me.

His mouth travels along my jaw and I let out a shaky sigh. “Jake…”

His voice is rough. “Yeah?”

“I feel gross. Can I take a shower?” I pause, then add with faux innocence, “Wanna help?”

He huffs out a breath, eyes already darkening. “You sure your ankle can handle that?”

“No need to stand,” I reply, smirking. “We’ll improvise.”

“Jesus,” he mutters, hauling me up into his arms. “You’re trouble.”

“You like trouble,” I whisper.

“Damn right I do.”

He doesn’t wait. He carries me straight into the bathroom, his grip tight under my thighs and back like he can’t stand the idea of not touching me. The light’s still on, but the world feels dim around the sound of his breath, the heat of his hands. This isn’t about softness. This is about something deeper. Hungrier.

He sets me gently on the closed toilet lid, careful of my ankle, checking my balance as I settle. Then he turns toward the tub, twists the faucet, and starts filling it. Steam rises quickly, curling in the air between us.

I shift slightly, feeling the cling of the day’s dust and grit on my skin from the ranch. Jake’s eyes rake down my frame—t-shirt streaked with sweat, lounge pants rumpled. He gives me a slow smirk.

"I know you said you wear these hobo pajamas because they’re comfortable," he says, voice low and teasing, "but I’m pretty sure you picked them to drive me crazy."

Before I can sass back, he kneels in front of me and slides his hands up my calves, careful around my ankle. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my pants and underwear together, easing both down in one smooth motion. The fabric pools at my feet. There’s nothing seductive about what I’m wearing, but the heat in his eyes says otherwise.

He slips his hands under my shirt, his palms dragging up my sides, warm and sure. He catches the hem and lifts.

"Arms up."

I raise them. He pulls the t-shirt off and tosses it aside. My bra is nothing special, but you wouldn’t know it by the way his gaze darkens. He unhooks it slowly, letting the straps slide off my arms.

He cups both breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they pebble beneath his touch. Then his mouth replaces his hands. He licks one nipple slowly before sucking it deep, groaning low in his chest. I moan and arch toward him.

"Fuck, Piper... you have no idea what you do to me."

He devours my breasts with single-minded worship—sucking, licking, teasing until I’m panting. His hands never stop roaming—down my sides, along my hips, everywhere at once.

Then he kisses down my stomach, trailing open-mouthed heat along the way.

When he lowers his head between my legs, I lean back slightly, bracing one arm behind me on the closed lid, the other gripping his shoulder. I spread for him instinctively.

He starts with a long lick, flat and hot from my entrance to my clit. Then another, slower. He groans against my pussy like it’s his favorite meal. The sensation makes my toes curl.

His hands grip my thighs, thumbs parting me as his tongue gets ruthless—circling, flicking, pressing deep into every soft, swollen part of me. Then he sucks my clit just hard enough to make me gasp.

"Jake…"

I glance down, heart pounding, watching him devour me. His hair is damp with sweat, lips slick with me, and his eyes—dark, wild, locked on mine.

"You like watching me eat your pussy?"

I whimper. "Yes. Yes, Jake."

He groans and doubles down, sucking harder. I bite my lip, nearly crying with pleasure.

I feel the orgasm build, thick and sharp. My nails dig into his skin. He groans again, relentless.

When I come, it shatters through me like lightning. My whole body jerks. He keeps going, licking slower now, coaxing every aftershock until I twitch and sag into him, legs wide, pussy throbbing.

He finally lifts his head, mouth slick, eyes blown with heat. I’m still trying to catch my breath when he rises and strips off his shirt. His chest and abs glisten in the low light, muscles taut, every inch of him carved and ready.

I reach out and touch his torso, fingers splaying over his abs, then down to where he’s thick and hard. My mouth goes dry.

"Jesus," I murmur. "You’re… unreal."

He kisses me, deep and filthy, tasting myself on his tongue. His cock presses against me, hot and heavy, and I gasp into his mouth.

Then he lifts me into his arms again, steps to the tub, and lowers me into the hot water.

He slides in behind me, positioning my bad ankle carefully over the rim. His cock rests against my lower back, and I feel it twitch.

"You wanted clean," he murmurs against my ear.

He pours shampoo into his hand and starts to wash my hair, fingers massaging deep into my scalp. I melt against his chest, his cock nudging me every time I shift. He tilts my head and rinses gently, his hands so tender it makes my chest ache.

Then he reaches for the washcloth and starts down my body—neck, shoulders, breasts, taking his time. He lingers at my nipples until I’m squirming. Then over my stomach, between my thighs, letting the water rinse the dust and heat of the day from my skin.

"Still with me?" he whispers, kissing the shell of my ear.

"Barely."

He guides me forward slightly, water sloshing around us. I brace my elbows on the edge of the tub, my cheek resting on my forearm.

"Don’t move," he growls.

I feel his hands on my hips, guiding himself between my legs, not behind. He pushes into my pussy with one slow, firm thrust, and I moan, the stretch perfect. He holds still once he’s buried deep inside me, one hand gripping my hip, the other sliding up my spine.

Then he starts to move.

Slow, deep strokes that leave me shaking. My back arches, my pussy clenching around him. He fucks me with patient, punishing control, water sloshing with every thrust.

“Touch yourself,” he growls, voice low and rough. "I want you to come on my cock."

I slide a hand between my thighs, fingers finding my clit as his cock drives deep again. I gasp, the sensation electric.

"You're so fucking tight. So good, Piper."

I bite my lip to keep from screaming. It builds fast, the pressure curling low, tighter and tighter.

When I come again, it hits hard. I jerk, muscles locking around him as I sob his name.

He groans, fucking me harder now, chasing his release. Another few thrusts and he goes still with a shudder, buried deep, panting against my neck.

We stay like that for a moment, water cooling, steam fading.

Then he pulls out gently and kisses the back of my shoulder.

He stands and steps out of the tub, water dripping down his body. He grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. His chest rises and falls as he looks down at me, jaw set, eyes tender but blazing.

God, he’s gorgeous. Water tracks over his abs. I can’t stop staring.

He helps me sit upright, then lifts me from the bath like I weigh nothing. He towels me off carefully, drying every inch, then wraps me in one of the oversized fluffy towels from the hook by the door.

"Let’s get you into bed," he murmurs, voice husky, warm against my ear.

And this time, there’s no teasing in his voice.

Just quiet reverence.

***

Later, we’re tangled up in sheets and heat and silence. My ankle still twinges, but I’m too floaty to care. Jake’s hand strokes my waist in slow, lazy circles.

“You okay?” he murmurs, lips brushing my ear.

I nod against his shoulder. “Yeah. Surprisingly, yeah.”

We lie there in the quiet, his chest rising under my cheek. I should feel better, lighter.

Instead, my gaze lands on the scrappy little flower Violet gave me, perched on my nightstand like a symbol of everything I don’t deserve.

The guilt floods back—unwelcome, inevitable.

Jake pulls the blanket higher around us. “Sleep, Piper.”

I close my eyes and pretend I can.

But tomorrow? Tomorrow I have to stop pretending.

And face the fact that I’m in love with the man I lied to. And it’s all about to come crashing down.