She lets out a contented sigh, then tilts her head to look at me, eyes still heavy-lidded, lips curved in that soft, post-orgasmic expression that might kill me dead. "That was…"
"Life-changing?" I offer, half-joking but serious.
"I was going to say incredible," she says, brushing her fingers across my jaw, "but yeah… life-changing works too."
I pull her up for a kiss, this one soft and slow and full of everything I can't quite find words for yet. "You're incredible."
"We're incredible," she corrects, settling back against my chest. "That was a team effort."
I laugh, the sound low and genuine. "The bear seemed to approve by the end."
She glances over at our synthetic witness, whose head has somehow twisted even further during our activities. Now it appears to be looking at the ceiling, as if politely averting its gaze.
"See? Even fake animals have manners."
We drift into comfortable silence, skin cooling in the evening air, hearts still racing from exertion and emotion. I stroke her hair, marveling at how soft it is, how she fits against me.
"Mason," she says.
"Mmm?"
"This changes things. Between us, I mean."
I pause, considering. She's right, of course. There's no slipping back into careful distance and professional courtesy after this. No pretending we're temporary office-mates who happen to share excellent chemistry.
"Good," I say. "I was getting tired of pretending I didn't want you."
She tilts her head up to look at me again. "Were you pretending?"
"Terribly," I admit. "I've wanted you since that first day when you glared at me over that ridiculous milk crate desk. Even when I was convinced you were going to murder me in my sleep, I wanted you."
"I was not going to murder you," she protests, though she's grinning. "Maim, maybe. Light property damage at most."
"Very reassuring."
She traces patterns on my chest with her fingertip, the touch casual but still enough to make my pulse quicken. "What happens now?"
It's a good question, and one I don't have a complete answer to. The festival is still days away, Richard's lawsuit still looms, and we still have to figure out how to coexist in this space that's become part workplace, part home.
But the uncertainty doesn't terrify me. Instead, it feels like possibility.
"Now," I say, rolling us over so she's beneath me again, her hair spread across the bear rug like spilled ink. "Now we see where this takes us."
"Mmm," she hums, wrapping her arms around my neck. "I like the sound of that."
"Do you now?" I lower my head to nip at her throat, tasting the salt of her skin, feeling her pulse flutter under my lips.
"Very much," she breathes, arching against me. "Though I should warn you, I'm not good at casual."
I pull back to look at her, struck by the vulnerability in her admission. "Good," I say firmly. "Because there's nothing casual about this. About you. About how I feel when I'm with you."
The expression that spreads across her face is brilliant enough to power the entire barn. "Show me," she whispers.
So I do.
We make love again as the sun sets outside the windows, more deliberate this time. Taking time to explore, to savor, to memorize. When she gasps my name, when her fingers dig into my back, when she looks at me like I'm everything she's ever wanted, I feel a piece of myself click into place. A part that's been broken for longer than I care to admit.
By the time we collapse together again, sated and tangled, the first stars are beginning to appear outside. Maddy is curled against my side, one leg thrown over mine, her breathing deep and even with approaching sleep.
