Chapter 49
forty-nine
. . .
RORY
When I press inside Summer, I’m home.
Maybe that sounds cheesy, but it’s exactly how I feel. Like no matter how long it took me to get here, it’s where I’ve always belonged.
Seeing her again after these days apart, it’s like every nerve in my body wakes up the second I touch her. The way she feels in my arms—soft, warm, perfect—isn’t something I’ve ever let myself crave this badly before. But right now, it’s undeniable.
While my pulse races, my hands are desperate to hold her tighter, to pull her closer.
I drown in the heat of her mouth, the fire that’s been burning inside me since the first time she looked at me like I was the only thing she wanted. I can’t hold back. I don’t want to.
Everything I’ve tried to push down, everything I’ve been afraid to want, it’s all crashing through me now.
The truth is, this is it.
She’s it for me.
And for once, I’m not afraid to want more.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this. Missed you.”
Her legs wrap around my waist, holding me to her as I fuck her with firm strokes. She meets my thrusts, just as ravenous as I am.
“God, you feel so fucking good.”
Her breath hitches, and her hands fly to my shoulders, nails digging in as she arches beneath me.
“Rory,” she whispers, like she’s stunned I’m real, like I’ve been gone for longer than four days. Her eyes lock on mine, wide and glassy, and in them I see everything I’ve been too much of a coward to ask for.
“I missed you,” she says, her voice catching. “More than I should’ve.”
That’s it. That’s the moment I fall completely, irreversibly, fuck-it-all-in love with her.
I kiss her like I’m sealing something sacred between us. Our bodies move in sync, every thrust deep and deliberate, a promise I can’t say out loud yet.
Her legs tighten around me. Her breaths come in short, sharp bursts.
“I’m close,” she gasps, her back bowing off the table. “Rory—don’t stop?—”
“I’ve got you, Wildflower,” I grit, holding her tighter. “Come for me.”
She shatters around me, her cry like a spark setting me off. I follow seconds later, spilling inside her with a groan against her neck. My body shakes with the force of it, with how fucking right this feels.
We stay like that for a long moment.
Tangled. Breathless. Completely undone.
My forehead rests against hers. Our chests rising and falling in sync while her fingers trace lazy circles on my back.
I don’t want to move, but finally, I press a kiss to her cheek and pull back. “Don’t move.”
She blinks up at me, a little hazy. “Bossy.”
“Just taking care of you.”
I grab a clean towel from the bathroom and return, kneeling beside her. She’s watching me with a soft, open look that makes my chest ache. I clean her up slowly. Trying not to make it weird, but also not pretending like this moment isn’t something. Like she isn’t everything.
“You good?” I ask, brushing my knuckles over her thigh.
“Yeah,” she breathes. “I’m really good.”
I toss the towel aside and pull her into my arms again.
For a while, we just breathe together.
The silence between us isn’t awkward, it’s full. Heavy with everything we’re still not saying.
Then, in the middle of that charged quiet, my stomach releases a monstrous growl.
Summer dissolves into a fit of laughter, her body shaking against mine.
I pull back just enough to see her, breathless and flushed. Her smile hits me right in the chest.
“Really?” she says, eyebrows raised. “That’s your afterglow?”
I give her a sheepish grin. “I wanted to get home, so I skipped eating with the guys.”
“That’s why I made dinner.” She sits up slightly, her bra dangling off one arm. “And this is why you didn’t get to eat it.”
“Worth it.”
“Orgasms are always fun,” she says dryly, glancing around, “but now we have to clean up the mess.”
I kiss her, slow and lingering. “Sorry I knocked everything on the floor.”
Her eyes soften, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not. But you’re going to be sad to know it was barbecue chicken. Your favorite.”
“Damn it.” I groan, tipping my head back dramatically. “Tragic loss.”
Still, I can’t bring myself to regret anything, especially not the way Summer looked on that table, legs spread and moaning my name like a prayer.
With a soft laugh, Summer climbs out from under me, reaching for a t-shirt and underwear. I grab my boxers and joggers and follow her. Together, we head into the dining room to assess the damage. My damage.
“My parents actually sent these?” I ask, crouching to pick up pieces of ceramic from the floor.
“Yeah, maybe a peace offering?”
I chuckle. “Or a way of inviting themselves over for dinner.”
Summer laughs, her cheeks turning pink. “I’ll never be able to have anyone over without thinking about what we just did on that table.”
She’s not wrong. The sight of her laid out for me is a core memory now.
“And just think,” I murmur, grinning. “I didn’t even bend you over it yet.”
I shoot her a wicked smile. A promise.
She smirks. “Dinner first.”
“Since you don’t know my mom that well,” I say, scooping up the rest of the mess, “she’s not great at apologies. She sends gifts instead.”
“Noted,” Summer says, dropping the last shards into the trash can while I mop up the spilled barbecue chicken. The heavenly aroma taunts me with every swipe.
“You want dinner from Lucy’s?” I ask. “I’ll order.”
“Sure.” Summer answers before handing me the vacuum.
Once cleanup is finished, I reach for the yellow box of Little Sunshine Cakes and pull out a package of choco swirl rolls.
“Victory snack time.”
I’m halfway to my first bite when Summer appears in front of me, face suddenly serious.
“Don’t worry, this won’t ruin my dinner,” I say, motioning to the sugar-laden snack cake. “I’ll still eat all of mine and probably half of yours.”
“It’s not that.” She swallows. “We need to talk.”
Shit. The talk.
For a moment, I’d forgotten about her text from earlier.
I lower the snack cake and set it on the counter.
Her gaze flicks to it before meeting mine.
“My parents own that company.”
“What company?”
She nods to the snack cake beside me. “Little Sunshine Cakes.”
I blink, trying to make sense of it. My eyes land on the yellow box with the sun logo. I think back to the little girl that used to be on it. Blonde hair. Blue eyes.
It clicks.
That was Summer.
I stare at her, stunned.
Her family owns the company I’ve been obsessed with since I was a kid. The same family who didn’t support her art. Who tried to marry her off to some asshole for business gain. The same people who have money—but left her without health insurance, without the meds she needed—because she wouldn’t play by their rules.
And I’ve been scarfing down their snack cakes this whole time, telling her how much I love them. That must’ve stung. Or at the very least, made her hesitate to tell me more about them.
Anger surges in my chest.
I walk to the pantry, pull out the rest of the boxes and toss them in the trash.
When I look up, Summer’s staring at me, eyes wide. “You don’t have to throw them out!”
“I’m not eating another damn thing that came from the people who made you feel like less.” My jaw tightens. “You’re worth more than that.”
I’m not mad at her. I’m furious at them. I’ve never met her family, but anyone who made my wife question her worth doesn’t deserve a place in our life.
She presses her lips together and nods. “Well at least recycle the boxes.”
I know she’s trying to create some levity, but I’m still too fired up to laugh.
“Why did you keep buying them for me?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Because you love them and they make you happy.”
“I love you .” I reach for her. “You make me happy.”
“Rory,” she exhales, emotion welling in her eyes.
It’s the truth. One that’s been sitting on my tongue for weeks. Maybe since the day I met her.
“You make me happier than any snack cake ever could. And that’s saying a lot because those little guys are filled with like twelve kinds of chemically engineered joy.”
She laughs, and I feel some of the tension dissolve between us.
I slide a hand into her hair, threading my fingers through the soft waves.
“Well, you can’t eat me for your cheat day snack.”
“That’s what you think.” I lift a brow, grinning.
She shakes her head at me, tears in her eyes and a small smile on her lips.
“About what you said? That I make you happy and that?—”
“I love you.” I say it again firmer this time.
“You promised you wouldn’t fall in love with me.”
“Yeah, well, you promised the same.”
She exhales, not in frustration, but in surrender.
“Guess we’re both liars then.”
“Speak for yourself. I’ve never been more honest in my life.”
I take her left hand, feeling the cool ridges of her diamond wedding band beneath my thumb.
“I didn’t think I’d ever want more than swimming, but then you showed up, messy and brilliant and wild, and now I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
Something cool and wet nudges my ankle.
I glance down at Edgar. “You too, buddy.”
When I look back at Summer, she’s giving me a look—part amused, part exasperated.
“Did you say messy?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.
I nod, pressing a kiss to her pout. “But in the best way.”
There’s so much to tell her but right now I want her to know what matters most. Our life together.
“I don’t know what happens next with swimming. I’ve never been more uncertain about the future. But I do know is that I want you there. Whatever happens—win or lose, gold or nothing—I want you beside me.”
She nods, eyes shining.
We stand there, quiet for a beat, just holding each other.
“Rory?” she says softly.
“Hmm?”
“I love you, too.”
My chest squeezes at her words.
I pull back to look at her. My beautiful, talented wife.
“I love the way you look at me like I matter. I love that you don’t let me hide, but you know when I need a safe place, too.” Her fingers tease along my jaw. “I even love how you think squirrels are out to get you.”
“They are out to get me,” I mutter. “One of them threw an acorn at my head last week with sniper-like precision.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she says softly.
“I’m yours.”
“Good,” she whispers. “Because I’m yours, too.”