Chapter 30
Silas
I woke up with June in my arms and the rain still falling.
It took me a second to remember where I was—what day it was, even.
For a moment, it felt like the whole world had stopped…
like I was floating somewhere just outside of time, suspended in the soft grey light of early dawn, June’s breath warm on my chest and the window cracked open to the smell of petrichor and pine.
The sheets were twisted around our legs, birds singing in the distance. It was the kind of morning you didn’t expect after a night like the one we’d had—the kind that should’ve come after a wedding, not a death.
But maybe that was the point.
Something had ended…and something else had begun.
I looked down at her, propping myself on an elbow and trying my best not to disturb her. June was still asleep, her lashes curled against her cheek, mouth parted. She looked…soft. Safe. Like she was somewhere she belonged, and like I was too.
I hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time.
My hand found the curve of her hip beneath the covers, and I just held her for a while…thinking about everything that had come before…what would come after. I’d been locked up in the past for years, and it felt like something had let go of me.
Like the fist that was clenched around my heart had relaxed…like it was just holding me now.
She hadn’t looked sad—Amelia. She hadn’t looked scared, she hadn’t looked bruised like when she died. She was…peaceful. Happy.
In that tent, when everyone else was screamin’…she’d looked at me like I was allowed to forget, at least a little. Maybe to forget the pain, while I remembered the smiles.
June stirred slightly, her hand sliding along my ribs. She didn’t open her eyes right away—just made a small, contented sound in the back of her throat and nuzzled in closer like she’d been waiting on me to hold her tighter.
So I did.
I bent to kiss her hairline, just above her temple, and murmured, “Mornin’, preacher.”
She smiled sleepily against my chest. “Is it still morning?”
I glanced toward the window, where rain clung to the screen like diamonds. “Barely.”
Her fingers flexed against my bare skin, dragging down toward my waist, slow and drowsy. We hadn’t even bothered with clothes last night—just showered and thrown ourselves into bed, immediately falling into a deep sleep. Now, I was well aware of how naked we were…and how she felt against me.
“Is it still today, or is it tomorrow?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “I truly have no idea. Why…you got somewhere to be?”
“Oh you know,” she said. “Potlucks to plan, babies to baptize.” She finally tipped her head up to look at me, eyes heavy with sleep. “You okay?”
I reached up to brush the back of my hand across her cheekbone, then tucked a curl behind her ear. She looked so damn beautiful like this—quiet, unguarded, flushed with sleep.
“Yeah,” I said finally. “I’m okay.”
She blinked up at me like she didn’t fully believe it yet. Like she needed proof.
So I gave it to her.
I leaned in and kissed her—soft and slow, the way I hadn’t had the chance to the night before. There hadn’t been room for softness then, not after everything that had happened.
But now?
Now, we had all the time in the world.
Her mouth parted under mine. She sighed, one leg sliding over my hip, pulling herself closer as the sheets slipped down around us.
I let my hand drift lower, down the curve of her waist, over the swell of her hip, until I could wrap my arm around her and pull her right where I wanted her—on top of me, warm and sleepy and smiling against my lips.
“I thought you were tired,” she whispered, nipping at my bottom lip.
“I was,” I murmured back. “Then you started talkin’ about baptizin’ babies and remindin’ me how much I want to put one in you.”
June huffed a laugh, her forehead dropping to my shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m in love,” I corrected, sliding my hand down to palm her ass. “And you’re in my bed, wrapped around me, lookin’ like sin and salvation all at once. What’d you think was gonna happen?”
She arched a brow, lips brushing against my throat. “I thought we might go back to sleep.”
“We can,” I murmured, flipping us gently so she was beneath me. I kissed the corner of her mouth, the edge of her jaw. “After.”
Her breath hitched as I slid my thigh between hers, nudging her open. She was already warm there, already soft and ready, and the sound she made when I rocked against her damn near undid me.
The rain kept falling, slow and steady outside, a rhythm we fell into like it had been written for us.
I took my time.
Kissing her like she deserved—slow and thorough, with my mouth everywhere she trembled. I licked down the curve of her throat, across the slope of her shoulder, until her fingers dug into my back and her hips lifted, asking for more without a word.
“Tell me what you want,” I rasped, voice rough with the weight of it all.
She looked up at me through half-lidded eyes, lips parted, cheeks flushed. “You,” she breathed. “Just you. As deep as you can go.”
Christ.
That was all I needed.
I slid into her slow, savoring the way her body opened for me, the soft catch of her breath, the way her legs wrapped tight around my waist like she was scared I’d vanish. I didn’t rush. I couldn’t. She felt too good—hot and wet and wonderful.
“Goddamn, June,” I groaned, pressing deeper, drinking in the sight of her—back arched, hair spread across the pillow, eyes locked on mine like I was the only thing she wanted in the whole damn world. “You feel like salvation.”
She whimpered, nails digging into my shoulders. “Then fuck me like you mean it.”
A growl tore from my throat as I thrust harder, her hips rising to meet me like she’d been starving for it.
I was already drunk on the feel of her, already unraveling, but I slowed just enough to make her feel every inch.
I wanted to ruin her for anyone else. Hell, I wanted to ruin her for mornings that didn’t start like this.
“You want it slow, sweetheart?” I whispered against her ear. “Or do you want me to make you scream?”
Her breath hitched. “Both.”
I bit gently at her neck, rolling my hips deeper. “That’s my girl.”
We found our rhythm like we always did—effortless, greedy, sacred.
I kissed her like I was starving, like she was the first breath after being underwater too long.
She gasped into my mouth, whined when I dragged my fingers down her body, palmed her ass, pulled her closer. “Love you…I love you, Silas Ward.”
“Say it again,” I demanded.
She looked up at me, eyes glassy. “I love you.”
“Louder,” I growled.
“I love you, Silas,” she moaned, tightening around me just as I thrust deeper. “Fuck—I love you.”
I lost it then. Slammed into her with a rhythm that had her eyes rolling back, her thighs trembling around my hips.
She clawed at me, dragged me closer, and I gave her everything—every ounce of devotion, of need, of filthy want I’d been holding in since the first time she looked at me like she wasn’t afraid.
She broke first, gasping my name as she came, clenching down on me so hard I saw stars.
And I followed—grinding into her, breath torn from my lungs, the heat of it crashing through me. It wasn’t just release. It was surrender.
I stayed buried in her, forehead pressed to hers, heart still pounding.
She was smiling. Wrecked and beautiful and mine.
“You still tired?” she asked softly, brushing her fingers through my hair.
“God, yes,” I muttered, still breathless. “But I’d give you round two if you asked real nice.”
She huffed a laugh, then kissed me—soft and slow, her body still trembling under mine. “Later,” she whispered. “Right now, just hold me.”
So I did. Wrapped her up in my arms, our skin damp, our legs tangled. The storm faded outside, birds beginning their morning chorus, and the whole world felt clean.
Whole.
Ours.