Chapter 23
June
Barefoot, wild, and in love, we made our way deeper into our house.
And now…me and Silas had a house.
Our house. Our home.
Maybe our child’s home someday.
I glanced over my shoulder to look at Silas, catching him watching me like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. He gave me a hapless smile, shaking his head.
“You’re really somethin’, June Fontenot,” he said—a phrase I was getting accustomed to whenever I did something that surprised him.
My smile faded for a moment, nerves hitting me hard. “Are you sure you like it?”
He huffed out a laugh. “I love it…just constantly in awe of you, baby.”
I gave his hand a little tug and kept moving, heart fluttering. “Come on,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Let me show you the rest.”
The kitchen was the first thing on the menu—food warm on the stove, though it might not be by the time we were done.
It didn’t matter; not when he was here, when I wanted so much more from him.
I’d already put up a bookshelf courtesy of Delilah, and my most prized possessions were lined up there: recipe books from back home for all the good Cajun cooking, plus a collection of texts on sacred sexuality, holy bodies, and women prophets.
Silas reached out to skim his fingers along the spine.
“You got Women Who Preach Fire right next to The Joy of Crawfish,” he said.
“I like balance,” I replied. “And I saved a shelf here—for your occult shit and your westerns.”
He huffed a soft laugh, eyes still locked on the books. “I don’t think anybody’s ever shelved folk demonology next to gumbo before.”
“I’m pioneering a new classification system,” I said.
He eyed me. “I can’t tell if you’re jokin’ or not.”
I leaned in. “That’s part of my mystique,” I said. “Now, come on…let’s go see the bathroom.”
I tugged on his hand again, and we crossed the living room to the tiny hallway—bathroom on the left, extra bedroom on the right, main bedroom straight ahead.
I flicked on the light in the bathroom to reveal what the Wrights had clearly done the most work on: a renovated clawfoot tub, corner shower, and shiny new vanity. Silas blew out a breath.
“Well, it certainly beats the standing shower at the parsonage,” he said, stepping in to slide his hand along the edge of the tub. “This thing’s huge.”
“It’s for soaking,” I said. “Two people, ideally.”
He turned to cock his eyebrow at me. “You plannin’ to let me in there sometime?”
“Nah, it’s really just a hot tub for me and Delilah’s wine nights.”
“Again, I can’t tell if you’re joking.”
“You’ll find out,” I said, stepping close enough to pull him toward me again. “If you behave.”
He gave me that look—that slow, wry, smirking Silas look—like he was picturing very specific kinds of misbehavior. His hand slid from the rim of the tub to my hip.
“You gonna make me beg for bath privileges now?”
“You’ll earn them, I’m sure,” I said, rising onto my toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Now come on. I saved the best for last.”
I pulled him down the hall once more, not shooting for the main bedroom—but for the extra. It was still completely empty, no more than a single box in the corner because I hadn’t had anywhere else to stash it.
But this room…it had promise.
We leaned against opposite sides of the doorway, Silas looking inside, me watching him. His eyes darted around like he was looking for a trick when I flicked on the light, seeing only the box. “And this is…?”
“The nursery,” I shrugged.
Silas went still.
He didn’t look at me right away…just let the words settle, let the possibilities take up space. I’d set it out loud, named it.
And I was more nervous than I’d been in years.
“The light in here is good in the morning,” I said, wanting to fill the silence. “There’s room for a crib. I thought the chair might go in the corner, if I can find a decent one…and I’ve already got my eye on some wallpaper with a cute sun and moon pattern.”
Still nothing from him.
So I turned…and the look on his face made my heart skip a beat.
It was the same look he’d given me when we were desperate for each other in his bedroom just before the snake bit me…the same look he’d had when we got back from Loretta’s house and he carried me to the sanctuary to christen the altar.
The look he’d had the first time I ever saw him, standing on the porch of the old Ward house, realizing he’d seen the future.
“You…” he began, but shook his head. “You’re really thinkin’ about it.”
“Aren’t you?” I asked.
He was quiet too long. I doubted for a second if I’d said the right thing, if I was about to watch my future collapse. Silas…he’d been through a lot, maybe he didn’t want to have kids—
Then his hands came around my waist, pulling me in.
“You askin’ me if I’ve thought about knockin’ you up, June?”
I didn’t answer—I couldn’t. Not with the way he was looking at me…like handing him the key to our house had unlocked something he didn’t even know he was allowed to want.
“Because I have,” he said, voice low and rough. “Every time I’ve been inside you, I’ve thought about it.”
My knees damn near buckled.
He kept getting closer, crowding me gently back against the doorframe, one hand on my waist, the other sliding down to curve around my ass.
“You think I haven’t imagined it?” he went on. “You with that glow in your cheeks…a baby with your freckles and those big blue eyes?”
No one had ever talked to me this way—the kind of way that made me want to get off the pill right now, come what may. “Silas,” I breathed.
He kissed me hard, then pulled back just enough to keep talking.
“You want me to put one in you tonight?” he asked—and even though I knew it was impossible since I was on the pill, I couldn’t help but pray for a miracle. “Right now, June? In our bed…in our house?”
“Yes,” I breathed, dizzy from the heat of him, the promise of it. “Yes, Silas.”
“Then show me where,” he said. “Right fuckin’ now.”
I grabbed his hand and dragged him to the last door—the bedroom.
No more teasing. No more jokes.
Silas kicked the door shut behind us, and by the time I turned, he was already shrugging out of his shirt, already coming toward me like he meant to do exactly what he’d promised.
I opened my arms, opened my heart, everything—and Silas came to me, kissed me, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone like I was something to be treasured.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. “And you’re mine.”
“All yours,” I said. “I always have been.”
He kissed me again, tongue pressing past my lips, into the cavern of my mouth. I moaned into him as he moved to untie my dress at the waist, to tug it from my shoulders. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath—I’d known where this was going, if all went according to plan—and he smiled against my lips.
“You bring me here to seduce me?” he rumbled.
“I think you know why I brought you here.”
“To put a baby in you?”
I gasped when his hands found my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples. “Yes.”
He exhaled hard, like the words knocked something loose inside him…like the future had cracked open to reveal endless possibility. I let out a harsh breath when he suddenly spun me around, when I felt his cock through his jeans…his hard chest behind me, hands still on my breasts.
“Gonna fuck you so deep, baby,” he purred. “Gonna have you ridin’ this cock all night.”
“Yes…yes…”
“If you’re serious…I wanna fuckin’ marry you, June Fontenot. Soon as possible. I want a ring on your finger and I want you off the pill, you hear?”
God help me, I’d never wanted anything more.
Not just the sex—not just the heat building between us like a coming storm—but the everything of it. The way he said my full name like it was already written on a marriage certificate, the way he framed our future like it was inevitable.
Like he didn’t just want my body—he wanted my name on his mailbox, my toothbrush next to his, my body heat warming him through those rare winter nights.
“I hear you,”I whispered, rocking back against him. “I hear every word.”
I felt him move one hand to unbutton his jeans, the other moving down, down between my legs…finding my clit, stroking a slow circle around it. Silas smiled into the crook of my neck, lips brushing my ear.
“Jesus…you’re fuckin’ soaked, June,” he growled. “Turn you on that much to think about me puttin’ a baby in you?”
“Oh God—”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, June.”
“It’s not in vain,” I somehow managed to gasp out. “I’m praying for—”
He pushed me just a couple steps closer to the bed, bent me over, my elbows catching me on the bedspread.
“Keep prayin’, baby,” he growled.
Then he thrust inside me to the hilt.
I gasped—sobbed, really—the stretch of him stealing my breath away. Silas didn’t move right away, just shifted his hips…settling deeper, fuller, making sure I knew exactly what he wanted. He let out a shuddering breath and gripped my shoulders, groaning.
“Fuck, June…fuckin’ flutterin’ around me already,” he rasped. “You want this bad, don’t you?”
I nodded, but he still didn’t move—just stayed there, buried inside me.
“I need to hear you say it, baby.”
“Yes,” I choked out. “God, yes…please.”
His hand moved, sliding up my neck to get a handful of my hair. The hand still on my shoulders slipped higher to stroke over my pulse point, his cock throbbing inside me with every beat of his heart.
Then…he pulled out, pushed back inside.
Another thrust, slow and devastating.
“You gonna take all of it for me?” he murmured, hips rolling steady. “Gonna let me fill you up until you’re so well-fucked you can hardly speak?”
“I’ll take everything you give me,” I sighed.
He bent low over me, chest to my back, breath warm at my ear.
“Say it again,” he growled.
“Say what?”
“Say you want me to get you pregnant.”
“I want it,” I whispered. “I want it so bad, Silas.”
“Fuck,” he moaned. “I’ll give it to you. Give you everything.”
He straightened…then his rhythm began to quicken, moving faster with each stroke. The front of my thighs hit the bed, fingertips curling in the blankets. I was already practically lying across it when he joined me, bracing one knee beside mine, pounding the future into me like a prayer.
He didn’t just fuck me.
He claimed me.
Every thrust said mine, every growl in my ear echoed forever.
And I gave it to him—I gave him everything, sobbing his name into the mattress, aching in the best way as my body opened, welcomed, believed.
I’d been told for years that this was what I was made for…
but in the depths of my sex-fogged mind, I realized that wasn’t it at all.
Me and Silas, we were made for each other. To love each other, to pleasure each other, to build on each others’ strengths and to fall ever more deeply in love.
His pace was almost frantic now, his hands covering mine on the bed. “Fuck, June—”
“Come inside me,” I begged. “Please, please…please, I want to feel you.”
He groaned—broke—the sound ragged in my ear. I felt his hips stutter, one final thrust so deep it dragged a cry from my throat.
And then—
“June,” he gasped, my name like a prayer on his lips.
Heat spilled inside me in a rush, hot and endless, his body trembling with it. He didn’t stop moving—kept grinding through it, as if he could push it deeper, like he wanted to etch his soul into mine and to take all I could give back.
And finally, he collapsed over me, still lodged inside.
Silas moved us just a little, keeping his cock inside me, turning us both onto our sides to tuck me into his chest. One muscled arm looped over my waist, pulling me close, his lips in my hair.
“I love you,” he breathed. “Jesus, June…I love you so fuckin’ much.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I know, Silas. I love you, too.”
For a while, there was nothing but the sound of breath, of pulse, of quiet and beautiful life. His heartbeat thudded against my back, slowing only after a few minutes…
…then it felt like it was okay to speak.
“It ain’t gonna actually work, right?” he said. “Not until you’re off the pill.”
I hummed. “That’s kind of the idea…but it was still fun, huh?”
He propped himself on his elbow as he finally pulled out, and I felt the warm heat of our mingled arousal on my inner thighs. His eyes fluttered at the sensation, and I knew we weren’t nearly done yet.
“That’s good,” he said.
My confidence faltered. “Because…you don’t—”
“I do,” he said with a soft laugh, his hand cupping my cheek as he gazed into my eyes. “But I wanna marry you first.”
“You’re serious?” I asked, but my voice was already breaking—because I knew he was. Of course he was.
“As a heart attack,” he said gently. “You’re it for me, June. Have been since the day I first laid eyes on you.”
I blinked hard, swallowing past the lump in my throat. I’d spent so many years preparing for the kind of love that would feel like work—like a sacrifice, like a duty to God. But this…?
This was joy. This was rest. This was the thing I’d never dared ask for, not out loud.
I pressed my forehead to his. “You don’t have to ask me right now,” I whispered.
“I know,” he murmured. “But I want you to know I’m not playin’. I meant it back there in that nursery. I want a life with you. A whole damn life.”
“You already have me,” I said.
“I want the papers to prove it,” he said with a soft laugh. “And I want everybody in town to know. I want to say wife when I talk about you.”
I was smiling so hard it hurt. “You want to throw a church wedding in Willow Grove?”
“I want whatever makes you glow like this,” he said. “And maybe we don’t wait long.”
“Fall wedding?” I teased.
“Too far,” he said. “I was thinkin’ end of summer.”
I laughed into his mouth as he kissed me again—long and deep and stupid with love. We melted into the sheets, sweaty and tangled, and somewhere in the hallway, the wind rattled the windows again. But this time, it sounded like a blessing.
“Silas?” I whispered, eyes closed, lips brushing his chest.
“Yeah, baby?”
“We can tell people soon. But not yet.”
“Why not?”
I thought about it, wanting to make sure he knew I wasn’t embarrassed…but because I knew it would be a spectacle. What I settled on was, “I want it to be just ours for a little while longer.”
He smiled against my temple. “Ours,” he echoed. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”