22. Duke
TWENTY-TWO
DUKE
The fit of her body shouldn’t have felt so perfect as I curled around her. After recovering from the best sex that couch had ever seen, I led her upstairs, drew her a fresh bubble bath, and tried to help her relax.
I sat behind her in the tub, rubbing her tense shoulders as she hummed and leaned against me.
I let my lips brush against the wet curve where her neck met her shoulder as she lazily told me about her day.
When the bubbles dissipated and the water finally cooled, we had gone for round two in the bedroom.
She was insatiable, and I craved her like a starved man.
I was an ambitious, eager student when it came to learning what Sylvie liked in the bedroom. When we were finished, her pliant body molded to mine.
Sylvie let out a satisfied hum as she snuggled closer, pushing her ass into me. “The baby is moving again.”
My hand moved across her belly, and I nuzzled my nose into her hair.
I wanted to memorize every tiny detail about the woman in my arms—the way her hair smelled like cinnamon and sunshine, the way her laughter built from a shy chuckle to a full-on belly laugh when something really got her going, the curve of her hip and the swell of her belly.
I needed every detail committed to memory.
Sylvie’s voice filled the darkened room. “Did you always want to be a farmer?”
A humorless laugh puffed out of me. “No.”
I could practically hear her mind turning and the thoughtful frown tug the corner of her lips.
“That surprises me. You seem to love it—the way you walk the fields every day, how you treat the people you work with with such kindness and compassion. I can see how much the farm means to you. I guess I just thought that was something that came naturally, since your dad ran the farm before you.”
I was quiet, then offered her the simple truth. “I learned to love it.”
Her patient silence and the gentle stroke of her hand on my forearm gave me courage to open myself up to her.
“When Mom died, it was tough—on everyone. Kate and Lee were so young. Wyatt was wrapped up in football and girls. Mom was the glue. She was a special woman.” I didn’t bother to hide the hitch in my voice.
Even after all these years, it hurt like hell to talk about her.
“You loved her.” Sylvie softly sighed.
I nodded. “Still love her, but life moved on. Dad did what he could to manage without her. Aunt Tootie stepped in and helped where she could.” My eyes stung and my chest ached, but I kept going. “When Dad got sick, things really changed.”
“I can’t even imagine what that must be like. MJ has made comments that he’s very sweet, but sometimes he has bad days...”
Sylvie was curious and I didn’t blame her.
“He does. It all happened so subtly, you know? Little slips here and there. He’d call Kate by our mother’s name or forget the day of the week.
Dad’s always been upbeat, but he’d be moody and sullen.
It started affecting the farm. Bills went unpaid, people were quitting or refusing to work for him because of his erratic mood swings.
It was rough.” I sighed. “I realized there was no one else to take over the responsibilities. It was completely up to me.”
She was quiet. I stroked her arm and let myself find comfort in her soothing calmness.
Sylvie pulled in a deep breath and held it for a fraction of a second. “It was so different when my mother left. I woke up one morning and she was just... gone. No note, no tearful hug goodbye. She just left us.”
I pictured young Sylvie, alone and confused when she realized her mother wasn’t coming back. “Jesus.”
A watery laugh spilled out of her, and I banded my arms around her. “The sad part? I was envious .” Her voice quieted to barely above a whisper. “No one else knows that.”
I gently kissed her bare shoulder and considered her confession. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“The strangest part of all of this? My whole life, I’ve been invisible. I was never special enough to warrant my father’s attention, and my own mother left without even saying goodbye. I used to be relieved that I was invisible, but now I’m all anyone’s talking about.”
My hand moved to the smooth curve of her hip. “I’m sorry about that.”
Sylvie had never been invisible, at least not to me. There was always something about her that wouldn’t allow me to look away. Even her ridiculous asshole brothers should be able to see that.
Sylvie lifted a shoulder. “It’s okay. Hopefully soon someone will come along and stir up some better gossip.” She sighed and turned the conversation back on me. “So if you weren’t destined to be a farmer, what did young Duke aspire to be?”
I chuckled, half laughing at the dreams of a kid who had no clue who he was supposed to be. “I was gonna leave this town behind in a cloud of rodeo dust.”
“A bull rider?”
“Nah. I was always built too big for that. Though I was a damn good bulldogger.”
Her back pressed into me in a nudge. “What is that?”
“The technical term is steer wrestling .”
Laughter and disbelief danced in her voice. “Steer. Wrestling?”
I chuckled along with her. “Yep. Steer gets a head start, then you chase him down, slide down the side of your horse, and wrestle him to the ground. You grab him by the horns and bring him down.”
“That sounds kind of mean.”
I laughed. “I suppose it is. Though the rodeo takes damn good care of the animals. In fact, back when I won a pretty big title, I bought that steer and retired him here to the farm. He lived out the rest of his life in an unused pasture.”
Sylvie rolled toward me, but I kept my arms around her. “See. I told you you were a softie.”
I scoffed. “Whatever. I’m a badass.”
Her hand smoothed down my face. “You can be that too.” She studied me. “Did you ever get hurt?”
I looked into her light-brown eyes. I was lost in her, whispering old secrets in the dark. “A time or two. Nothing serious. The whole thing only lasts a few seconds at most.”
“I wish I could have seen you do it. I bet you looked hot.”
I smirked and ran my nose down the side of hers before pecking a soft kiss to her lips. “Some girls thought so.”
Her eyebrows lifted as she pulled back to look me in the eye. “When was the last time you had a girlfriend?”
“Actual girlfriend?” I frowned, thinking back as far as I could. “Well, probably not since Nicole. A few years ago.”
“Did you break her heart?”
I scoffed. “More like the other way around. She broke up with me, and though she tried to be nice, it was pretty much the it’s not me, it’s you speech.”
“Ouch.” Sylvie’s giggle squeezed my heart.
I chuckled and snuggled closer. “It was a blow to my ego, but better in the long run.”
Sylvie’s eyes searched mine. In the darkness, it was hard to read her expression.
How do I tell this woman that no one who ever came before her could measure up? That no one ever would?
A soft knock from the door had me turning from my workstation. Sylvie stood in the doorway of the shed with a shy smile and her hands clasped together at her chest. “This looks interesting.”
I was only glad she found me out here and not working on the secret project I had started in the main barn.
I wiped my hands on the dish towel and tossed it on the counter in front of me. “Come on in.”
Her smile widened, and she stepped over the threshold and allowed the door to close behind her, casting out the harsh winter wind.
Her puffy winter coat enveloped her, nearly camouflaging her growing bump.
Her blonde hair tumbled from beneath her knit cap.
Her legs were covered in tight black leggings, and her small feet were tucked into a pair of my old boots.
I smiled to myself, not minding in the least that she often threw on a pair of my boots.
“I didn’t realize this place was out here.” Sylvie ran a finger along the stainless-steel industrial kitchen countertop. “I saw the light on and came exploring.”
“I had this shed converted a few years back so I could get a commercial kitchen license.” I tipped my head toward the pots on the large, professional-grade range.
“I can make things to sell at the farmers’ market and use up some of the end-of-season berries we freeze.
” I shrugged. “Plus it gives me something to do.”
Sylvie grinned. “How very domestic of you, Mr. Sullivan.”
I returned her smile, stepped forward, and grabbed the belt loop of her pants to pull her toward me. She hummed with pleasure as I pulled her close to me.
“You look beautiful.” I ran my hands around her sides to her lower back before resting them on her ass. The pink flush on her cheeks deepened as she leaned into me.
Her hands rested on my biceps. “It smells incredible in here. What are you making?”
“I finished up some blueberry-lime jam. That’s Annie’s favorite and a big seller at the farmers’ market.
I plan to make two new flavors. Small batches of a blueberry bourbon and a blueberry lavender.
” I shrugged, feeling a bit shy to let someone else in and see this hidden part of me. “Figured I’d try something different.”
Her caramel doe eyes blinked up at me. “Do I get to be your taste tester?”
I tapped the tip of her upturned nose with my knuckle. “Only if you’re good,” I teased, “then maybe I’ll lick it off you and get my own taste.”
She preened and arched into my embrace. “Tempting, but you might change your mind after I tell you who’s here.”
I frowned at her, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. Sylvie scrunched up her face as though she was nervous to tell me about our visitor. It wasn’t often people entered into our little bubble, and I preferred it that way.
“It’s Royal. We were just having a visit, but he said he wanted to talk with you before he headed out.”
I straightened. Royal was a pain in the ass—a big one when it came to the Kings.
He was cocky and liked to stir up trouble.
In a lot of ways he reminded me a bit of my brother Lee.
I grumbled but looked down at her wide, hopeful eyes.
I had meant it when I said I would do whatever I could to make things work between her and me, so that included her pain-in-the-ass brothers, apparently.
I looked at the timer on the countertop. “These jars have a few more minutes of processing, and then I’ve got to clean up.” I glanced at the clock. “If he’ll still be here in thirty minutes, we can have ourselves a chat.”
Her nerves dissolved before my eyes— as if I could ever tell that woman no.
“Thank you.” Sylvie stretched up on her tiptoes and stroked a hand down my stubble before popping a kiss to my lips.
I wanted to lengthen that kiss to pull her against me and feel her body against mine in that small kitchen. Instead, she turned and flounced out the door. She’d breezed in here and left me with nothing but irritation and a raging hard-on.
True to my word, I made my way back to the main house in just under a half hour.
I stomped up the back steps, shaking off as much of the freshly fallen snow from my boots as I could.
Michigan winters were known to be fickle, and after a stretch of mild weather, we had been hit with freezing temperatures and six inches of snow and ice a few days after Thanksgiving.
The house was cozy and smelled like Sylvie’s tea mixed with freshly brewed coffee. I shrugged out of my heavy coat and hung it on the hook next to Sylvie’s. I slipped off my boots and arranged them neatly next to the other size twelves she always stole.
When I rounded the kitchen entrance that led to the living room, irritation crawled up my back. Sprawled out on my couch with his boots on my fucking coffee table was Royal King. Sylvie stood, and she quickly hit the back of her hand against her brother’s shoulder.
He stood. “Sullivan.”
I took three steps forward and did one of the many things my father drilled into us as teens, and held out my hand. “Royal.”
Shoulders squared, he stared at it for a beat. Then two.
This motherfucker . . .
From my peripheral, I could see the panic on Sylvie’s face as her eyes flicked from my extended hand to him. After what felt like an eternity, his hand clamped onto mine. His grip was firm but not aggressively so.
After the quick shake, I released his hand and crossed my arms. “Sylvie said you wanted to talk.” I gestured toward him. “So talk.”
He had the balls to smirk at me before tucking his tattooed hands into his pockets. “Goddamn I don’t like you.”
“Royal—” Sylvie hissed.
He lifted a hand to silence his sister, and my hand clenched into a fist, but Royal’s voice softened.
“I may not like you, but I love my sisters, and they seem to think I’ve got you all wrong.
Am I happy about this? Fuck no. But Sylvie is the best judge of character I know, and she says you’re a good guy, so.
..” He held out both his palms. “I guess that means you’re a good guy. ”
“That’s it?” My eyes searched his, looking for a hint of bullshit.
Royal smirked. He may have shocked me with his blanket acceptance of my relationship with Sylvie, but he was still a cocky asshole. “You’re the guy until Sylvie says you aren’t. Then I’ll learn to like the next asshole. She’s my sister. It’s as simple as that.”
My jaw clenched at the mere thought of this nonexistent next someone. I needed to get my irrational jealousy under control and focus on what Royal was offering. “So is this a truce or something?”
Royal’s barking laugh filled the living room. “Fuck no. All it means is that we aren’t going to beat your ass if we see you in town. I’ll get my brothers on board, and I’d appreciate it if you would do the same.”
Fair enough. I nodded.
Royal turned to his sister. “All right, Syl, I’m out of here.”
He leaned down and pulled Sylvie in for a quick side hug, then reached his hand out to me. I shook it with a nod. Sylvie followed behind as she walked her brother toward the front door.
“Oh, and hey, Duke?” Royal turned with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I noticed there was a shopping cart on the frozen pond out there. Might want to check it out.” He shrugged, feigning innocence. “Or don’t. Just thought you should know about it.”
I sighed and shook my head as Sylvie stifled a giggle and herded her brother out the door.
Jesus fucking Christ.