Epilogue Noah
Three Months Later, Fall
“These are fantastic.” Heart thudding, I lift a butter yellow shirt out of the box and inspect the new logo across the chest.
Sawyer has spent the last year developing and implementing an extensive marketing plan for Evercrisp Orchard.
We’ve “rebranded.” I still don’t totally understand what that means, but Mercer assures me it’s a good thing.
In addition to our new logo, we now offer a selection of programs and special events.
We host activities almost every day, bringing customers into the storefront by the car or busload.
I had to start a waitlist for field trips with the number of requests I’ve received from elementary schools in the area.
The parking lot transforms into a small farmers’ market every Sunday, and once a month, we keep the bakery open late so a book club can gather.
The bakery has never been busier. Edna had to hire two more assistants, and she’s training Bella to take over for her next season.
We even started selling care packages online.
Turns out, people will pay a substantial amount of money to send someone they care about hand-picked fruit and homemade pie.
“Ya know, I don’t think I’ve ever had an Evercrisp apple,” Sawyer muses.
With her hands planted on her hips, she studies the ripening chart and harvest schedule for the year.
I still track everything manually on the dry erase board my dad used.
A lot of aspects of this business have changed, and most of those changes have been for the better.
The orchard isn’t just surviving anymore—it’s thriving.
But some things, like the old white board and the antique equipment in the cider mill, can’t be improved upon.
I make my way over to my woman. She looks gorgeous, as usual.
Her hair is pulled back in a loose braid and she’s wearing a tight tank top that puts her nipple piercings on full display.
Naturally, she’s stolen another one of my flannels and layered it on top of the tank with a pair of leggings that cling to every curve and the work boots I bought her this spring.
“You’ve had them before. Many times.” I wrap my arms around her from behind, nuzzling into her hair. She smells so sweet—the perfect blend of tart apples and warm, decadent vanilla.
She tips her head back, resting it against my chest, and licks her lips—an invitation.
I kiss her softly, then pull back. “We ate Evercrisp apples all spring. They’re what Edna uses in the winter pies. They’ve got more longevity than anything else we grow.”
She frowns thoughtfully. “Why do they only get picked at the end of the season, then?”
Fair question.
“They’re a storage apple—hardy and substantial.
But they need time to reach their full potential.
Honestly, they don’t taste great when they’re first harvested.
They’re too firm because the natural sugars haven’t had time to break down.
They’re grown for longevity. Something to look forward to, after all the other apples are mealy and flavorless. ”
Smiling, she cradles the back of my head.
“I love that. Sometimes the best things need extra time to fully develop.”
I kiss her forehead. “Was that intended to be an age joke, honey?”
She smiles slyly, then wraps both arms around my neck. “Maybe.”
She pops up on her toes, seeking my lips. When she glides her tongue against the seam, a sweet little hum escapes her—followed by an immediate increase in buzzing directly behind us.
I sigh, catch Sawyer’s hips, and hold her at arm’s length. “We can’t. The colonies are almost done merging, and I don’t want to stress them out or put them at risk.”
Her face screws up in annoyance. “They can sense us all the way over here?”
We’re standing twenty yards from where I’ve been dutifully uniting two colonies. It’s been a tedious process, but they’re close to chewing through the newspaper separating them, and I’m hopeful that in a few more days, I can declare it a success.
“They can sense it all. Our emotions, our energy, even our pheromones.”
Her hands drift down to my belt buckle despite the warning. She toys with the metal, then cups my cock with her other hand and peers up at me through her thick dark lashes. “So it’s better to just leave you sexually frustrated, then? For the bees’ sake?”
To punctuate the question, she squeezes my length through my jeans.
I hiss, working to keep my pulse under control. “It’s better not to disturb them at all. Half the colony is still getting used to their new queen. It’s more work on her if we upset the hive.”
I rescued a swarm last week. My third of the season.
I spent hours searching under the porch of the centennial home in downtown Holt but couldn’t locate a queen.
Now I’m working to incorporate the new swarm with one of my existing colonies in hopes that they’ll acclimate and ultimately become one team.
“The queen keeps everyone regulated. She’s the center of the colony. Everything they do is in service to her.” Playfully, I add, “Just like how everything I do is in service of you.”
She tips her chin up, her lower lip pushing out in a pout.
With her arms wrapped around me like this, I can feel the thundering hammer of her heart through her shirt as she rubs against me, the metal barbells of her nipple piercings teasing me, and dammit, if that isn’t the most provocative invitation.
But we’ll have plenty of time for that later, after the chores are done and we’ve turned in for the night.
She, apparently, doesn’t agree. “But what if I’m the one who wants to service you?” That hand is back, massaging me, tempting me.
An electric current races down my spine. Fuck it.
Bending low, I catch my woman around the thighs and lift. Her squeals turn into laughter as I carry her out of the packhouse toward the controlled atmosphere room.
Pushing through the cooler curtains, I stride toward the back of the chilly space, kissing her neck and chest, not stopping until we’re in front of one of the staging bins for Evercrisp apples.
Just like the elusive Evercrisp, our love is one that’s grown and bloomed over the past year.
There have been challenges, sure, but at the heart of our group’s connection is a profound trust in one another.
A sincere belief that we’re better together.
We’re mutually invested in a promise that we’ll hold each other steady during the highs and especially through the lows.
I didn’t just find love again when Sawyer came into my life.
My bond with Mercer strengthened, and I found another brother in Tytus.
With each passing day, I discover a new layer to the depth of my love.
Ours is a love that will last. A love I can count on and one that will just get sweeter with every passing year.
I drop my girl slowly, ensuring she’s steady on her feet before letting go completely.
She’s steady, but not for long. With a wicked grin, she scrapes her nails down my chest and sinks to her knees.
She licks her lips and looks up at me, her gorgeous green eyes holding the promise of ruin.
I welcome her wreckage.
She may be the one on her knees before me, but I’ll spend the rest of forever worshipping at her feet.
While I shove my jeans down my hips, she takes my cock out of my boxers and gives me a salacious smirk. Then she wraps her lips around my crown and swirls that sweet little tongue around the tip.
“Fuck, honey.”
She giggles. Just like I knew she would. She loves it when I drop the rare F-bomb. I like to save them for moments like this.
I weave both hands into her braid, cradling her head to make sure she doesn’t hit it against the apple bin at her back. “You’re so good at sucking me.”
She finds my slit with her tongue and flicks that spot until I’m sure I’m leaking precum like a sieve.
Then she hollows her cheeks and sucks.
Knees nearly buckling, I grip her hair, pulling a little the way she likes.
Spurred on by the action, she takes me deeper, cupping my balls and massaging. Then she presses one knuckle up behind my nuts, and—oh, fuck.
“Sawyer.” I tug her hair, forcing her to pop off my dick.
She licks her lips, eyes wide and mockingly curious. “Yes, Daddy?”
My cock twitches, threatening to spill into nothing. I could come right here, right now, at the sight of her on her knees, salivating over my cock.
“I need to be inside you, honey. I need it so badly it hurts.”
She smirks. “Sure that’s not just your low back pain flaring?”
I help her up, then swat at her ass, grinning. “Get these off.” I tug at the waistband of her leggings. “Now.”
She scrambles to obey, shucking off my shirt along with the pants.
I don’t bother taking my time or looking my fill. I need to be inside her. Right fucking now.
“Lift.” I catch her behind the thighs and hoist her into my arms, then lower her to balance on the edge of the apple bin. I drag my length through her pussy lips to gather all that wetness she made for me and slide all the way home.
“Noah,” she gasps, sucking in a sharp breath.
“You can take it,” I grunt, savoring the way she pulses and spasms around my length.
She drops her head back, chest heaving. “Fuck, Daddy. I’m so full. Please move.”
Spine tingling in anticipation, I shove forward, rolling my hips and holding her in place to add resistance.
Every plunge into her feels like an alignment of sorts. Every time we come together, my soul intertwines with hers.
She’s wet. She’s perfect. She really is taking me so well.
“Look at that perfect pussy. Look at all those juices leaking out, making it so easy for Daddy to give you exactly what you need.”
“Fuck. Yes. Keep talking,” she pants.
“You look gorgeous all stretched out for me,” I murmur. “You’re doing such a good job, letting me fuck you hard and fast. You were made for this, honey. Your body is perfect, and you look so beautiful spread out for Daddy.”
She tucks her chin, focusing on where our bodies are joined, then clenches around my length. “I want you to come inside me,” she demands, her voice pure gravel and pleasure.
Fuck, do I want that, too. But she has to come first.
I pop my thumb into my mouth, then bring the wet digit to her clit. With firm strokes, I rub up and over the nub in time with my thrusts.
“Yes. Fuck. Please. Daddy.”
There she is.
“Let go for me, honey. Let go and let me fucking have it.”
With a piercing, poignant scream, she comes undone, gyrating and clenching around me, triggering my orgasm.
I fill her with my seed, hot ropes of ecstasy coating her insides and burrowing deeper with every thrust.
Only when I’m sure I’ve drawn out every last tremor of her orgasm do I slow my pace. Then, when I’m sure she’s sated, I pull out and scoop her into my arms.
I lower slowly, because dammit, my low back really does hurt now. I hold back my self-deprecating chuckle and keep that thought to myself.
Once we’re situated on the floor, I brush away the damp tendrils of hair clinging to her face and kiss her lips. Her nose. Her eyes and her forehead.
I hold her close, pouring every ounce of tenderness and love I have into my gaze.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“I want to be with you forever, honey.”
“I want that, too.”
She snuggles closer, sighing. We’ve been quiet for several minutes when she giggles and asks, “Do you think the bees heard us in here?”
I chuckle.
The room is refrigerated, not soundproof.
“Yeah, honey. I think they probably heard you.”
I’ll be surprised if Mercer or Ty hasn’t texted, saying they heard us all the way up in the house.
“We’ll check on them before we head back,” I promise.
Sawyer traces the neckline of my shirt, then runs her nails over the trimmed hair along my jaw. “I want to stay out here for a little while longer.”
I bend low and kiss her deeply.
I want that, too.