Chapter 31 – Eden
EDEN
The quiet sounds of the ranch at night surround me. The breeze through the prairie grass and the sycamore tree outside my window. The occasional creak of the house settling. The quiet buzz of the heater, because it gets more than a little chilly here at night this time of year.
For my whole life, these were the sounds that lulled me to sleep.
Tonight, though, I’m so wound up that sleep feels miles away.
My mind buzzes, cataloguing every time Luke touched me today.
There were plenty, since we’re acting like a couple for my family’s benefit.
I shiver, thinking about his thigh brushing against mine as he sat next to me at the breakfast table, his arm wrapping around my shoulders when we chatted out on the porch with Mom, his hand grazing the small of my back as we walked out to the old barn.
The whole day, I was hyperaware of exactly where Luke was. My chest felt light when he smiled, when he made my brothers laugh, when he grabbed Mom tea before she even asked for it. It’s no wonder I finally cracked and kissed him in the kitchen.
I want him. Maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.
I could have him, too, if I just walked down the hallway, three doors down. Twelve steps, a knock on the door, and I could crawl into his bed. I know he’d let me, because Luke has never left me wanting on that before.
Groaning, I pull the sheet up over my head. It would be beyond stupid to give into that instinct. I don't need to feel any closer to Luke than I already do, not when our fake relationship is already on borrowed time.
Then again, who ever had any fun making the smart choice?
I throw off my blankets, and goosebumps rise on my skin immediately. It gets chilly in Sundre at night, and my cami top and pajama shorts don’t cover much.
Carefully, I ease open my door, careful not to let the hinges squeak. My brothers usually don’t sleep in the house anymore, but they would crash in one of the guest rooms, just to cock block me. I tiptoe down the hall, skipping over the creaky boards.
I pause in front of Luke’s guest room door and listen.
I don’t hear anything—not Luke stirring inside, not my family moving around upstairs.
I raise my hand, ready to knock. I can picture him, his hair tossed from sleep, pajama pants slung low on his hips, his eyes widening with surprised pleasure at seeing me.
I know without a doubt that he’d let me in and make me feel everything I want him to and more.
Which will make it that much harder to walk away on June 5.
There’s no escaping it. I have to end things with him—I promised Brinley, and there’s no future for us without her approval.
Dragging this out will only make it worse.
I already had to spend the past few days watching him charm my family with his impeccable manners and genuine kindness.
He made them approve of the boyfriend he’ll never want to be.
And as much as I want to pretend I only want something physical, I already know in my gut it isn’t true.
For future Eden’s sake, I have no choice. I have to walk the fuck away.
I press my palm flat against his door instead—one second, two—like I can leave the want there on the wood, where it can’t follow me back to bed.
I tiptoe back to my room and crawl back into my childhood bed. The room feels even smaller than it is with the way my heart is thumping from the nerves of what I almost did. I almost made a major mistake, risking my heart for the sake of some quick satisfaction.
Not that quick.
I sigh, rubbing my thighs together. My body is furious at me for depriving it from anticipated pleasure.
Well, if Luke’s not going to make me come, I’ll have to take care of it myself.
My fingers skate down my body, teasing my breasts through my pajamas and pretending my hands are Luke’s.
I pinch one nipple, and it sends a ripple of heat through me.
I move my hands lower over my stomach and caress the inside of my thighs.
I close my eyes and remember how it looked when Luke buried his head between my legs at Christmas, the way he lapped at me like a starving man.
It felt so much better than I ever imagined.
I cup my pussy through my shorts, grinding against it like I ground up against Luke’s cock.
Heat builds at the friction as I rock my hips again and again.
My panties grow damp under my touch, and I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
I shove my hand under my shorts waistband to touch my clit unimpeded.
The brush of my fingers sends a burst of liquid heat through me.
My other hand leaves my breasts to finger myself.
I can’t hold back a whimper of disappointment at how slight my fingers feel.
I’m craving Luke’s hands instead of my own.
They would be thicker and longer, and it would be all too easy for him to curl them and hit that spot inside me that makes my body ache.
So I pretend. I pretend that he’s the one touching me. I imagine the weight of him pressing me into the bed. The fingers circling my clit speed up, and my hips shove up against my hands, chasing the pleasure building low in my spine.
I close my eyes, and I imagine Luke standing at the foot of my bed watching me, his blue-green eyes darkened with lust. His sandy blonde hair falling over his brow in messy, touchable waves. His big hand palming the erection building under his jeans.
I clench around my fingers. My toes curl against my sheets.
I squeeze my breasts together with my arms, putting on a show for the man I’m imagining watching me.
I can practically hear his low groan of approval at my thighs squeezing around my hands.
Molten heat builds in my lower belly as my orgasm barrels toward me.
Take what you need, the Luke in my head murmurs, in the exact voice he used on my couch. Let me watch.
Wildflower.
The memory of Luke’s voice murmuring it sends me over the edge. I turn, burying my face in my pillow seconds before my orgasm washes over me. If I can’t hold back the sounds of pleasure, all I can do is muffle them.
Lying in bed, my chest heaves as I come down from a peak that was completely overwhelming, yet nowhere close to enough. The fantasy of Luke can’t satisfy me, not when the reality is only a few doors down. My body feels hollow and empty.
I roll onto my side, hugging a pillow. It’s the closest I can get to pretending I’m cuddling with Luke, both of us bathing in the afterglow.
Except I want more than his body. I want his blue-green eyes, looking at me like he can’t decide whether to worship me or defile me.
I want him kissing me back to the moment when my mind wanders to tomorrow’s to-do list. I want him whispering compliments nobody else has ever given me, because no man has ever really seen me like Luke has.
He knows why I’m so obsessed with my work, because he’s just as ambitious as I am.
He acts like we’re two halves of a power couple, using his connections and influence to get me work while he helps me behind the scenes, blowing up balloons and doing the unglamorous grunt work.
In exchange, he trusts me to have his back with his clients.
He doesn’t just use me as arm candy. He knows I’m at his side as a partner, smoothing over conflicts and charming his business connections.
The more I know Luke, the more I see his flaws, too.
He hates being bad at anything so much, he even practiced holding a baby.
He’s so worried about losing his friends, he forced himself to forgive Beau before he was probably ready to.
He punishes himself so much for every mistake that he isolated himself from women after that Peppermint article, enough that he followed my camgirl profile for some small echo of companionship.
Luke Windsor works so hard to be Luke Windsor that he never seems to let himself relax. I want to be the person who unwinds him. I want to be his safe space, the person he doesn’t need to impress, because I couldn’t be more impressed by him if I tried.
I close my eyes and sigh. In the quiet of my childhood bedroom, I can’t pretend anymore. I love him. I broke my promise to Brinley and fell for her brother.
It doesn’t arrive like a lightning strike. It arrives like recognizing a song from the first note—like something that’s been playing my whole life, finally turned up loud enough to hear.
I have to tell her. After she supported the whole insane fake relationship, I owe her that much. I don’t know how I’m ever going to face her disappointment, but I have to.
That’s not the only impossible task on my plate.
Tomorrow, I’ll have to spend the whole day with Luke.
He promised to help me clear all the junk and boxes out of the old barn house so I better visualize the wedding layout.
We’ll be there for hours, while I watch Luke haul around heavy boxes, his muscles flexing, sweat shimmering lightly on his brow.
The whole time, I know I’ll be remembering my hand between my legs, fingering myself while his name echoed over and over in my head.