Chapter Forty
Sheets Of Glory
“ K ade!” I shout, hands shaking as I slam another drawer shut. “Kade William Archer!”
Footsteps slam down the hallway, echoing my chaotic heartbeat.
“What?” he barks, careening into the kitchen, eyes wild. “What’s wrong? Is it Aurora?”
I soften.
For two seconds.
Then I’m stabbing an accusing, trembling finger at the open drawer labeled Georgia's GF Snacks . “What the hell is this?”
My voice is high pitched and thready, and it only gets worse when I open the next drawer, this one labeled similarly, and packed full of my favorite granola bars.
Panic twists in my chest. I slam it shut, yanking open the next one. My favorite gluten-free crackers, boxed and organized next to jars and jars of the stupid nut butter he saw me having a meltdown over.
Months ago .
When we still hated each other.
But it’s the cabinet labeled Baking Stuff For G filled with new, still-packaged baking supplies that has my knees giving out.
I catch myself on the counter just as Kade shoots forward, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
“What…” I trail off, voice cracking as I blink back tears. I think I’m in shock. “Why?”
He presses his lips to the side of my face. “Because I could.”
“Kade…” Spinning in his arms, I force my knees to stay upright and shake my head. “You didn’t have to do any of this. I… I have baking stuff and food at my place.”
“Then bring it here.”
My brows furrow. “Then what will I use when I’m at home?”
His jaw ticks, stormy eyes narrowing down at me. “Don’t want you there. I want you here. With me.” He flicks his gaze to Aurora who’s happily babbling in her playpen. “With us .”
Oh, God.
Oh, fuck.
This sounds a hell of a long like permanence and forevers and big, big , commitments. It sounds like he’s asking me to move in.
My heart tries to break through my ribs and nausea swells, fast and hard.
I want him. I want them both. But this is all happening at warp-speed, and yet, it’s been a slow, dragging burn of hate, and anger, soft moments, and me falling .
Falling hopelessly, desperately in love with this man. This life.
Abby’s right.
My heart does live in my vagina.
Shaking my head, I rub my temples and sigh. “You still didn’t need—”
“I wanted to,” he murmurs, dragging my face up and sliding his mouth against mine. “So I did.”
My hands find his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as I sink into the kiss. It’s soft and reverent. He tastes like warmth and safety, and the barest hint of coffee. He smells like sweat, and ash, and my Kade.
He’s spent the last few days helping clear what the fire left behind, showing up for everyone while quietly carrying the weight of it all. I’d only had one appointment this morning, which meant I was able to get back to the farm early to help.
Bea’s beside herself.
Everyone is.
They lost a lot in that fire. Equipment that insurance will replace, but not soon enough. Irrigation stuff I don’t understand—but that sounds like a major loss.
It’s the Honey Bea event shed that hurts Bea the most, though.
What it represents.
The night of the fire, over breakfast with the crew, she explained that it was something she started over twenty years ago, with her late husband at her side.
It was a way to celebrate what they created here, but also, a way to bring the town together. And for years, it did.
After William passed, she struggled to keep the big event going all on her own. And with times changing, her children growing, it's become more of a difficult task than a celebration.
But I saw the ache in her eyes. The heartbreak on her face.
The Honey Bea Bash is more than a simple summer kick off—it’s an Archer tradition. And I vowed then and there to make it happen for her.
No matter what it takes.
Fighting Cooper Ridge, rallying the community—that’ll take time, people, and a hell of a lot of resources. But the Honey Bea Bash? That’s something we can do. Something I can do.
For them.
Kade groans softly into my mouth, pulling me back to the present before breaking the kiss with a reluctant sigh. "Can’t kiss you like that with Aurora in the room."
I giggle, peeking over my shoulder. She’s chewing on her teether now, absolutely enraptured by whatever cartoon animal is dancing on the screen of her new baby-safe tablet.
“Rory is busy, but I get it.” My nose wrinkles and I force a few feet between us. “It does feel weird to touch when she’s around.”
“Rory?” he asks, voice rough.
My cheeks heat and I shrug, turning away to close all the cabinets I still haven’t processed. Probably never will. “Suits her.”
“Rory Grace,” he mutters, running his fingers over the adoption application we filled out last night. I need to send it off when I leave for work tomorrow. “Rory Grace Archer.”
Swooning, I nod, squeezing his hand. “It’s beautiful.”
“So are you.”
I swat at him with a tea towel. “Don’t flirt with me.”
“Why the hell not?” He crosses his arms and leans against the counter, looking truly put out. “Flirting with you’s my favorite thing.”
“Because,” I huff, hanging the towel. “It leads to your mouth on me, or your…” My brows waggle knowingly as I gesture to his obviously hard dick. “ That winds up in my…”
“Your what, baby?” he asks huskily, stepping toward me like a predator. “Your sweet, honey-flavored pussy? Your deliciously soaked pussy? Your greedy, insatiable, cum-filled pussy. Say it.”
“You’re…” My mouth opens and closes in shock, blood heating and pussy clenching at nothing but his filthy mouth. “You’re incredibly inappropriate!”
“Been a while since you called me that.” He chuckles. “Haven’t called me inappropriate since before I started eating your pretty pussy. In fact, lemme do it now and see what else you can call me.”
I squeal when he makes a dive for me and run around the kitchen, putting the island between us. “Don’t say that! She’ll hear you!”
“She’s not paying a lick of attention to you or your pussy,” he taunts, biting his lip as he closes in on me with his massive strides. “But I love your pussy . Love to taste your pussy . Touch your pussy . Fuck it with my fingers and mouth and—”
“Poo–poo–seeeee,” a tiny voice screams with an adorable laugh.
We both freeze, heads whipping toward Aurora who’s waving her teether around above her head like a cowboy hat as she repeats the babbled word again and again.
“Oh my God,” Kade drawls, mouth hanging open, face pale. “Did she just…”
“Yep,” I breathe, nodding. “She did.”
“Pooooo–seeeeeee!”
We stare at her, stunned into silence, as if the air’s been sucked clean out of the room.
Aurora, completely oblivious to the absolute chaos she’s unleashed, erupts into another round of delighted giggles. Her cheeks are flushed, her dimples on full display, and she’s so damn proud of herself it makes something in my chest go soft—and unhinged—all at once.
Kade breaks first, a choked sound bursting from him as he claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with horrified amusement.
I don’t even try to hold it in—I throw my head back and lose it. The full-body-shaking, face-wet, can’t-breathe kind of laughter.
Kade follows suit, wheezing, bent over, actually crying as he mutters, “We’re so screwed,” between gasps.
We.
My laugh dies, but my smile sticks, as I press a kiss to Aurora’s head and smooth her hair back. “You’re perfect, you sassy little genius.”
Today, she’s in an adorable yellow romper, and I’ve squeezed her short curls into a tiny half-up ponytail—the rest still as chaotic as ever.
My heart squeezes as she giggles up at me, giant brown eyes rimmed with lashes I’m jealous of, and I can’t help but wonder if she looks like Marlee.
If so, Kade’s ex was stunning.
Throat tight, I flick my gaze to him and find him already staring at her, an adoring but… sort of sad, expression on his face.
Does he think of her mom every time he looks at her? Does he miss her and wonder what it would be like if Aurora were theirs ?
Is he thinking of her now?
Shaking my head, I step back and grab my cardigan.
“Where are you going, freckles?” Kade asks, closing the distance between us.
Stomach twisting painfully, mind a mess, I move toward the door, needing a minute to get my head right. “Your mom asked me to help her with laundry day.”
He watches me slip into my tennis-shoes, brows high. “You do know what that means, right? It’s not just a load in the wash at the Big House.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes and adjusting the part in my long, yellow sundress that matches Aurora’s. I’m an idiot. Dressing like her. Like we’re… like we’re…
Stupid fool. Stupid hopeful, head in the clouds, heart in your vagina, fool.
“I know,” I say, voice harsher than intended as I move toward the door. “She explained it. It’s hanging sheets on the clotheslines. I’ve done it before. How hard can it be, Kade?”
I can feel my blank mask slipping into place and I hate it. Hate that I’m like this.
He stares at me for a long moment, jaw ticking before shaking his head and dragging me into him, planting a lingering, delicious kiss on my lips that has my toes curling and my mind momentarily forgetting to panic over…
Nothing ?
Everything ?
I don’t know anymore, and that’s the problem.
“Good luck. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Turns out, hanging sheets is a lot harder than it looks.
For one, they’re heavy as hell.
Second, the wind is a menace.
And third, Bea Archer has what I’m convinced is the largest clothesline system in the entire state.
By the time I’m halfway through my fifth row, I’m sweating like crazy, my hair’s fallen out of its clip, and the clean sheets keep slapping me in the face like Abby when she’s had too much Vodka.
Still, it’s weirdly calming.
There’s something about the repetition, the clothespins, the fluttering fabric, the golden sun above, that soothes the part of me still trying to find my footing in this town, this farm.
With Kade.