Chapter 22
Silas
I knew something was different the second I started walking.
June had given me an address for what she described as some new place in town, asking me to meet her there.
It was walking distance from the church, so I got a little gussied up, at least tidied my hair and trimmed my beard, then I headed down Main Street.
It was just a couple blocks away, in an area I could have sworn was still residential—before the strip of small businesses and town hall.
A house, not a restaurant.
It was small, older, probably built in the Thirties like the other houses around here.
It had a deep porch with scalloped trim painted the soft kind of blue that only shows up in baby blankets.
The whole front yard was un-landscaped, but in a way that made sense: native grasses, goldenrod, tufts of black-eyed Susans still holding on as fall crept in.
And the windows glowed gold, like a candle cupped in two hands.
I looked down at her text message, making sure I was in the right place, but…
yeah, this was it. My gut churned with anxiety, hoping she hadn’t roped me into some kind of social gathering for her fellowship by surprise.
I didn’t like surprises, and I had to brace for crowds—but she knew that, so I figured that couldn’t possibly be the case.
So I trusted her.
I stepped up and knocked on the door.
And it opened almost instantly.
June stood there barefoot, wearing a dress I hadn’t seen before—loose and soft, the color of red wine, cinched just enough to show the line of her waist. Her blonde hair was down in long waves curling past her shoulders, freckles vivid after the summer we’d had, her lips pink and curled into that knowing smile that always made my brain short out.
“Hey,” she said, like we hadn’t just seen each other that morning, like I hadn’t fucked her slow and well in the dawn light.
I blinked. “Hey yourself.”
“You wanna come in?”
I peered past her, finding the house completely empty—besides a picnic blanket spread out on the wood floor, candles at the center, the scent of good food on the air.
“Who’s askin’?” I asked.
She held up her hand, a jingling silver key dangling from her fingers.
“The homeowner,” she replied.
I stared at the key for a second, like it might disappear if I blinked too hard.
The key…the proof that she really did plan on sticking around.
“You bought a house,” I said.
She grinned, proud and a little shy, like she wasn’t sure how I’d take it. “I did.”
I stepped inside without directing my body to do so—like the house had pulled me into a hug I was more than happy to accept. The wood floor creaked under my boots as I stepped in, and I paused to kick them off by the door.
The walls were bare, the rooms empty, but June’s energy…? It was already here.
It felt like home.
“Guess this means you intend on stayin’,” I said, voice rough. I hadn’t realized I was emotional until I spoke, my throat tight.
“I already stayed,” she said. “This just makes it official.”
June took my hand, palm up, and dropped the key into it before closing my fingers over it. When I looked back at her, she was smiling wide.
“This mine?” I asked.
She bit her lip. “Well, you’re not expecting me to sleep here alone, are you?”
I laughed—just one soft exhale, because I didn’t know what else to do with the weight of that answer.
“You serious?”
June shrugged like she’d just offered me a second helping at dinner rather than inviting me to live with her. “My toothbrush has been at the parsonage for weeks now,” she said. “I figured it was time we got a new ‘our place.’”
I stared at her—at the freckles on her collarbone, the curve of her mouth, the way she wasn’t trying to look smug about it. Just…steady.
Like she already knew I was going to say yes.
“I don’t have much,” I said. “You know that, right?”
“I don’t need much,” she said. “I’ve got a floor, a roof, and the man I love. The rest is just seasoning.”
The key in my hand felt warm.
I couldn’t speak…not yet. So instead, I bent my head and kissed her slow, reverent, the kind of kiss you offer when you’re trying to find the words and all you can do is give her love instead.
She hummed into it, then pulled back just enough to grin.
“Dinner’s getting cold,” she said. “Unless you’d rather christen the bedroom first.”
I glanced toward the back hallway. “There’s a bed?”
“Delilah was kind enough to give me the ancient frame and mattress from her guest room,” June said. “It’s small, but…there’s room enough for the two of us.”
“You know I’m more than happy to go wherever you want me,” I said, though I was already pulling her into my arms, hands wandering to her ass and tugging up the hem of her dress.
She smiled against my lips. “Food can wait,” she said, fingers slipping under my shirt.
“Yeah?” I rasped. “After I got all dressed up for ya and everything…”
Her smile turned wicked as she met my eyes again. “You know I prefer you naked.”
She kissed me again, deep and unhurried—then she pulled back just enough to murmur, “You wanna see the rest of the house before I strip you down right here?”
I laughed low against her throat, dragging my nose along her jaw. “I want whatever you’ll show me.”
“You’re not just talking about my boobs?”
I barked out a surprised laugh. “No, June, I’m not just talkin’ about your boobs.”
She grinned, then tugged my hand. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s do the tour, then.”