Willow and Zach both laugh when Clara smacks my stomach. “And you couldn’t resist my bad mom jokes.”
I brush my nose against hers. “That’s right. You’re too cute for your own good.”
I place a kiss on her lips, relieved to finally be out there.
My sister squeals, and about the same time, Jacob enters the kitchen.
He shields his eyes. “Gross. Dax is kissing Mom again.”
We all laugh, and Clara and I bring him in for a group hug. He dropped the “Uncle” from my name when we told him we’re together, and it makes me smile every time. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately.
Over my shoulder, I peer at Willow with a wink, communicating the elation I feel.
For the first time in my life, with my arms wrapped around Jacob and Clara, I can look my sister in the eye and truthfully tell her I’m happy.
I’m home.
Thirty-Two
Clara
Dax kisses me.
It’s the same as the rest of his kisses—hungry, hot, yet tender.
But this is different.
After telling Willow about us a couple weeks ago, Dax has been lighter. His kisses have become less rushed and more savoring. Like he’s tasting fine wine, breathing it in, letting it enhance his experience.
We don’t have to hide anymore.
We’re alone tonight, so we indulge. Jacob is spending the night with my dad. It wasn’t planned, but Jacob was so tired from their early morning of fishing, which then lasted most of the day, he decided to stay the night.
Which means Dax is all mine tonight.
I follow his lead, running my hands up his shirt, over the strong ridges of his stomach, until I pull the material over his head. His hair is messy and sticks out in every direction.
He looks too good.
Too adorable and sexy at the same time.
I bite my lip. “Put your white coat on.”
“Oh yeah?” He quirks his eyebrow.
I nod, then step back to admire his abs.
He turns and retrieves his coat, and the dimples in his sculpted back move as he moves.
He slides his coat on, a devious smile spreading across his face. “Feeling wild tonight, huh?”
“You make me wild.”
There’s fire in his eyes. A hunger so feral I have goose bumps, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
“Feels like I have a fever.” I make a show of fanning my face.
Dax pulls his pants down, then stalks toward me in only his white coat and boxer briefs.
His nostrils flare.
I shiver more and more with every step he takes.
This man—this god in a white coat—he’s so beyond this world.
I never would’ve imagined we’d be here just a few months after I moved to Sunnyville, but now I can’t imagine my life any other way.
He places the back of his hand on my forehead, then leans in and whispers, “You are rather warm.”
He moves in closer, and my eyelids flutter.
He kisses along my jawline, making my breaths more and more rapid until I’m panting.
Needy.
He continues placing slow and hot kisses down my neck. Holding my hand, his thumb rubs over my wrist.
We both look down between us as he raises my hand and places two fingers on my wrist. “Your pulse…”
“Yes?” I breathe.
After several seconds, he looks up at me with eyes so striking and clear, they’re devastating. “Your pulse is fast.”
I hum as he kisses me, and the reverberations travel down to my toes, making them curl into the carpet of his bedroom.
“Are you nervous? Excited? Anxiously anticipating something?” he asks against my lips, seduction dripping from every syllable.
My gaze travels from his mouth, to his open white coat, down the visible part of his chest, to the V of his abs.
I palm him over his boxer briefs. “I’m anxiously anticipating a big something, indeed,” I whisper.
“We must take care of it quickly. Your health depends on it.”
I nod, wrapping my arms around his trim waist, then place a kiss to his chest. I peer at him through my lashes, and it’s like he snaps. He hoists me up by my ass and throws me onto the bed.
I pull my shirt over my head, then unhook my bra, while he steps out of his boxers.
He’s completely bare to me, except for his coat.
Wild hair and eyes. Dangerously sexy. Mine.
This is my new favorite image of him. I have a lot of them tucked away, and I’m always giddy when I can add more.
My breath hitches.
My eyes never leave him as I peel my leggings off. He follows my every movement, trained on my bare skin that I expose, inch by inch. He idly strokes himself as I discard the rest of my clothes.
It’s intoxicating, the way he looks at me. The way he makes me feel.
I lick my lips, needing him already, but I’m also enjoying the view.
My desire for him wins, and I reach for him. “Come here.”
We fall into bed with frenzied movements, our caresses becoming frantic and hurried. We become a mess of lust and love.
Passion and gentleness.
He rolls us around, moving on top of me, inside of me.
His coat ends up on the floor, allowing me to feel all of him.
Holding my hands in place above my head, he kisses my forehead, then cheek, then down my neck to my chest, where he cups my breast, kneading my nipple.
My mouth hangs open.
He moves inside me with finesse.
Intention.
I’m powerless yet liberated.
A strangled cry escapes as I find my release. With a grunt, he finds his own.
Silently, we gaze into each other’s eyes with the help of the moonlight streaming in from his window.
His chest is pressed against mine like our hearts are trying to fuse together, and they have.
We’re two people, but right now, when we’re together, we’re one.
This is our new normal.
Thirty-Three
Clara
I’m in love.
Not only that, but I’m in love with my best friend.
It’s what I tell Sienna a few weeks after dinner at Willow’s. Once we take a seat on her front porch, teas in hand, I spill my feelings to her like a rushing waterfall.
“The doctor?” Her mouth falls open.
“Yes. Dax.”
“And did he say he loves you back?”
I choke on my tea, my eyes watering.
“Oh, honey, he didn’t say it back? Oh my God. How humiliating. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, no.” I clear my throat. “It’s not that.”
“I’m confused.”
I wipe tea off my chin with a napkin. “We didn’t say it to each other. I’m just saying it to you, as my friend.”
Her eyes widen as she leans forward. “So, is this, like, a secret between friends? Because I’ve never been privy to a girl code. Like Mean Girls. Or The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.” She claps.
“Um…” I tilt my head, then decide to go along with it. “That’s exactly what this is.”
“Why didn’t you say it to each other?”
“Because we don’t want to rush it. I mean, sure, we’ve known each other all our lives, but not like this.”
“Speaking of, how’s the sex?”