Page 38 of Where the Roses Bloom (Gospels & Grimoires #1)

Rhett

The vows were spoken. The wexorcism—the thing with the silly goddamn name—had worked.

And now came my favorite part.

A quiet moment with my wife.

We were curled up on the porch swing, her hand tucked into mine, her bouquet abandoned somewhere behind us. Her dress had slipped off one shoulder, just enough to drive me crazy, but she didn’t seem to notice—too busy watching our friends and neighbors slow-dancing under the string lights.

I watched her instead.

The fireflies had come out in force, blinking like stars low to the ground, floating over the grass and toward the woods.

The trees rustled beyond the porch. Someone had brought out the good moonshine, and the older ladies were cackling like they were about to either fight or flirt with somebody’s grandpa. Or both.

It was perfect.

Jasmine and Caleb swayed together beneath the lights, Anita Mae tucked sleepily against Caleb’s chest. Jasmine’s curls were wild and backlit, and her laugh carried on the wind as Caleb stepped on her toes and muttered an apology.

Delilah was out there too, looking like she owned the place, barefoot now, her hair coming loose and wild around her shoulders.

Whit was spinning her like he’d forgotten there was anyone else on the damn lawn.

The two of them moved like they’d been dancing together all their lives—grinning, breathless, Whit’s sleeves rolled up, his shirt half-untucked.

Every time Delilah laughed, he tried harder, like he couldn’t help himself.

The hem of her lavender dress kept catching the air, and when he dipped her low, easy as breathing, I swear half the crowd stopped to watch.

The man had no idea he was in love with her—but the rest of us sure did.

Holden and Beau were playing fetch with Milo near the house, both buzzed, both happy in a way I hadn’t seen in years.

And then there was Silas, standing off by the tree line, half-hidden in the shadows, alone with his drink.

He looked like he wanted to stay that way—until June crossed the lawn and stopped beside him.

She said something, soft enough that I couldn’t hear it, and he startled a little.

But then he turned toward her like he’d been waiting for her to speak all night.

The way his shoulders eased, the way his head bent a little closer—it told me everything I needed to know.

“Good crowd,” I murmured into Willow’s hair.

She hummed. “The best.”

I leaned back a little, looking out over our land—our people. “I don’t want to speak too soon,” I said, “but I think…I think he’s gone. Carter, I mean. I think the wexorcism worked.”

She didn’t even flinch. “Not ridiculous at all. The roses seem to have been a pretty strong indicator. This is Hazel’s house, not his. She decides who gets to haunt this place.”

That made me grin. “Reckon she’ll stick around? ”

“Oh, I hope so,” Willow said, her gaze flicking toward the arbor still heavy with blooming roses. “If anyone deserves to see what comes next…it’s her.”

I couldn’t help it—I turned and pressed a kiss to her temple, tasting salt and sweat and something sweeter. She smelled like summer and soil and love.

“What comes next for us?” I asked, my voice low.

She turned to me with a slow smile, the kind that got under my skin and stayed there. “Well,” she said, “first we sneak off like scandalous newlyweds. Then maybe later we come back for cake.”

I raised a brow, heat stirring low in my gut. “You tryin’ to lure me into the woods, Mrs. Ward?”

She grinned, eyes sparkling in the dark. “I just think it would be irresponsible not to make sure the curse is good and broken.”

That made me laugh, low and rough. “So this is what due diligence looks like now?”

She tilted her head, playing innocent. “It worked last time.”

That grin of hers…God help me. I was already halfway to dragging her off this porch.

“Don’t suppose you packed a change of clothes?” I murmured, brushing my knuckles over the curve of her knee.

“Nope,” she said sweetly. “Guess you’ll just have to help me out of my dress.”

I swore under my breath and stood, pulling her with me. She squeaked, laughing as I swept her into my arms like I hadn’t been fantasizing about doing it all damn day.

Milo barked once and someone behind us catcalled—but I didn’t look back.

“Where we goin’?” I asked as we crossed the yard, her fingers laced behind my neck.

She looked over her shoulder toward the woods. “Back to the grove.”

The fireflies parted as we passed, like they knew exactly what we were doing.

And I couldn’t help it—I kissed her right there, walking through the wildflowers and dew, with the stars overhead and her heartbeat against mine.

Because if we were gonna seal this thing forever, I wanted to do it where everything started.

The moon was full, fireflies thick enough to light the way. Willow’s skirt trailed behind us, picking up leaves and blossoms.

And just a few steps ahead, like it was closer than it had ever been, the grove welcomed us home.

Same mossy stones, same hush in the trees…the earth disturbed where we’d dug up the spell bottle months ago now, the bottle itself sparkling clean like it was new. Cicadas sang in the trees as Willow walked ahead, turning to spin beneath the canopy.

“It feels…good, right?” she said. “Like we finished the spell. Consecrated it.”

I barely heard her.

Because I was too busy watching her move.

That dress clung to her hips like it didn’t want to let go, caught the light in shimmers of silver and gold. She twirled beneath the moon like some kinda spirit…wild hair and rose-sweet skin.

I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe.

I stepped forward, caught her around the waist, pulled her in until there was nothing but heat between us.

“Willow…”

She looked up at me with those witch-gold eyes I would spend the rest of my life loving.

“Yeah? ”

I ran my hands over her shoulders, down the slope of her arms. My hands were shaking; I didn’t care. I needed to touch ever inch of her.

“You’re mine,” I whispered, dipping my head to her neck, breathing her in. “You hear me? You are my whole damn world.”

Her fingers gripped the front of my shirt, tugging me closer. “Then make love to me, Mr. Ward.”

Fuck .

That did it.

I dropped to my knees in the grass and held her by the hips, pulling her toward me to press a kiss to her belly before I found the hem of her skirt. She laughed, holding her skirt up so I could duck underneath it, the white fabric draping around my shoulders.

“Taking communion first?” she asked.

I chuckled. “Consider it a baptism,” I murmured.

Then I pressed my lips against her lace panties, licking her pussy through them.

Willow thrust her hips toward me, and I helped her by catching her leg, steadying her so I could keep licking her, tasting her. I slid her panties down, watching the moonlight paint her thighs silver through her skirt. She trembled as I kissed along the crease of her hip, slow and deliberate.

“You always this sweet for me, Mrs. Ward?” I murmured, voice low and gritty.

She bit her lip, breath hitching. “Only for you.”

God, she was dripping already—slick and perfect—and I swore under my breath as I licked into her, savoring every slow pass of my tongue. She moaned, soft and high, fingers tightening in my hair like she needed something to hold onto.

“That’s it,” I whispered, lapping at her again, slower now, teasing. “Let me taste you.”

She whimpered, hips rocking against my mouth, and I flattened my tongue to give her what she wanted—just enough to make her chase it. Her thighs shook as I sucked gently at her clit, her breath going ragged.

“Rhett—”

“You say my name like that again,” I growled, “and I’m not gonna stop ‘til you’re cryin’.”

She gasped—half scandalized—and I couldn’t help the grin that curled against her skin. She was so damn responsive, every sigh and twitch like a prayer, like the grove itself had built her just for me.

I eased two fingers inside her, curling just right, and she broke apart for the first time—silent and breathless, eyes fluttering closed. I kept working her through it, licking up every last bit of her sweetness, until she was begging under her breath.

When I finally rose to my feet, her legs wobbled, but she didn’t let go of me. Her arms looped around my neck, pulling me in, kissing me deep and messy like she didn’t care she could taste herself on my lips.

“I need you inside me,” she whispered. “Now.”

I swallowed hard, holding her close. “Yeah, baby,” I breathed. “I’m yours.”

I pulled her in and lowered down to the moss, not wanting her to ruin her dress.

She followed me down, reaching for my belt, the button of my slacks, the zipper…

freeing my cock as the moon etched her in silver and shadow.

She looked like a goddess, wild and radiant, dress pooling around her hips.

I ran my hand down the length of her body, fingers catching on silk.

Her skin glowed under the moonlight, kissed gold and shadow.

I could barely take her in without shaking.

“You always look this fuckin’ pretty?” I rasped, brushing my thumb across her kiss-bruised lips, “or is it just ‘cause you’re mine now? ”

She laughed. “I think I’ve always been yours.”

She leaned down and I kissed her like I meant to prove it…kissed her like I was carving my name into her bones.

And when I finally slid inside her, I had to stop halfway just to breathe.

“Jesus, baby,” I groaned. “Makin’ me believe in magic.”

She whimpered, sinking down slow to take the rest of me. And God…she took it all. Took me so deep I saw stars.

“You feel that?” I whispered, thrusting up into her. “That’s your husband stretchin’ you open…fillin’ you up.”

Her mouth fell open, eyelashes fluttering. “Rhett…”

“I’ve got you, rosebud. Gonna fuck you just like I promised—slow and sweet, like we’ve got all the time in the world.”