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W hen I leave the bedroom—after cleaning up again—Viktor flits from the stove to the fridge and back again.

Today, he’s dressed in a crisp white button-down, the sleeves rolled at the forearms, and a pair of eggplant-purple slacks.

I bite my lip and admire the way he moves with ease while cooking. This is his happy place.

“I hope you’re hungry.” His wrist flicks, the omelet in the frying pan flipping with ease.

Right on cue, my stomach growls. “Guess I’m not used to all this sex. If you plan on fucking my brains out every chance you get, you’ll have to start feeding me more.”

One dark eyebrow arches, and a fang sinks into his bottom lip. “Is that a challenge, sweetheart?”

Laughing, I plop onto one of the stools at the counter. “I’ll never say no to sex and food.” I wink, picking up the fresh mug of coffee he made for me and taking a sip.

A sleek laptop is open, and my eyes snag on an aerial picture of… my orchard?

Gulping down my coffee, the hot liquid chafes my throat. “W-What’s this?”

Viktor slides the omelet onto a plate and sprinkles it with some extra cheese before joining me at the island. He sets the plate in front of me, along with a fork. “Eat. This is my attempt to save Sweet Orchard Dreams .”

My brow dips. “What? ”

“You wouldn’t accept my money.” He holds a hand up when my lips part in protest. “Rightfully so. I understand that now, Maggie. I overstepped and tried to swoop in and take away your power. I’m sorry I was inconsiderate.”

“Thank you. So what’s this?” I ask, swallowing roughly.

Fingers blurring over the keys and mouse pad, Viktor pulls up a few more documents.

“I still wanted to contribute somehow. Call it white knight syndrome, but I had to make sure your harvest was a success this year. So I came up with the idea of a harvest festival to draw in more customers and drive up profit by offering additional avenues for them to spend money.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth has tears coating my lash line and butterflies erupting in my stomach. “You did all this for me?” I take my eyes off the screen to meet his.

“I’d do anything for you, Maggie. You have so many memories with Roman there. I can’t let you lose that.”

Those butterflies plummet, and my gut twists. “Viktor.” Drawing his hand into mine, I squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so focused on keeping Roman’s legacy alive. That’s not fair to you.”

Snowy-white locks brush his shoulders as he shakes his head. “No, Maggie. That’s not how I see it. I’m not trying to replace or erase him. You still love him. You probably always will. But your love for him doesn’t make me feel any less loved by you. He was your first. And I hope to be your last.”

Bringing his hand to my mouth, I press a kiss to his knuckles. Tears trail down my cheeks, but Viktor is there to brush them away. “Have I mentioned how much I love you? ”

“You may have mentioned it a time or two last night, but I’ll never get tired of hearing it. I waited my whole life for you, sweetheart.”

Cheeks heating, my eyes flick to the laptop screen. “Tell me more about this festival of yours.”

I take in the Ferris wheel and food trucks. There’s a beer and wine tent. Viktor rattles off the details of the festival, which is planned for opening weekend—next weekend.

“This is actually perfect. I can run some social media ads to bring in more people. Maybe hang some fliers locally.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“And.” I tug on his hand until he’s forced to bend over the counter. Pressing my lips to his, I speak against his lush mouth. “I will be paying you back every cent that you spent. This isn’t you rescuing me, Viktor. I don’t want you for your money.”

“You don’t have—”

My hand lands over his mouth. “Shush. I will pay you back.”

He nods, but the way his eyes shine tells me I’ll have to fight to get him to take every cent.

Satisfied, I remove my hand from his mouth as he pushes the omelet in front of me again. Humoring him, I pick up the fork and tuck into the food, which is delicious.

Of course it is. Everything Viktor makes is out of this world.

Eyeing me over the rim of his mug, he says, “No more sneaking around. Okay? I want us to be official.”

My heart leaps. “Does this mean you’re staying?”

The question has a cheeky grin brightening his handsome face. “I dare you to try to get rid of me, country girl.” In fact, his smirk is downright devilish, and my panties would be drenched… if I was wearing any.

But his expression sobers, and he sets his mug on the counter, wrapping both hands around it and leaning on his elbows. “Last night, I pretty much told my father to fuck off. I doubt he’ll be speaking to me for a while—if ever again.”

I run my fingers up his forearm. “Oh, Viktor. I’m sorry it’s come to this.”He straightens, rounding the island to gather me in his arms. One hand cups my cheek as he smiles. “Nonsense. I got you and Lily out of the situation. Seems like a pretty great deal to me.”

“I think we’re the lucky ones.” What I don’t say is that the orchard finally feels whole again with him there. “Let’s go home and tell our girl.” At this point, it’s obvious he loves Lily just as much as he loves me.

Drooping to half-mast, his gaze scans my body in a lazy caress. “Sweetheart, as much as I love you in nothing but my shirt, I think you need clothes first.” When his eyes meet mine again, they’re filled with a familiar heat, and he winks.

Those damn winks. From the moment we met, they’ve been my weakness.

A thought dawns on me at the mention of clothes. “Your car is still at the gala.”

Giving my ass a firm pat, he spins away from me and grabs his keys and pocket watch from a little tray on the island. “Stay here and finish eating. Look over the festival plans, and make sure there’s nothing you want to add or change. I’ll be back soon.”