Thaddeus grinned. “Joe Cocker?”
I shrugged. “Don’t judge me. Anyway, he died of old age, but losing him ripped me apart. I started seeing him everywhere—coming out of my bedroom in the morning or in my ute at the end of the day, running through the back yard of my old house, crazy stuff like that. But when I saw him that day in the forest,here, it kind of sealed the deal for me. Like Joe was giving his stamp of approval, you know?”
Thaddeus’s gaze softened. He slid his arms around my neck and whispered against my lips, “Then I believe that Joe led meto you. He’s the only reason I went into the forest that godawful night. I could have, andshouldhave, just called for a ride and sorted the mess out the next day. And if I’d done that?—”
“I would never have found you in my shed or asked you in for breakfast,” I finished. “Let alone offered you somewhere to stay. Holy shit.”
Thaddeus nodded. “We have a lot to thank him for.”
I turned to the place in the forest where I’d seen him. “You always did have my back.”
Thaddeus’s fingers stroked down my cheek and he turned me back to face him. “So, here’s a thought. How about you take me to that bed of yours and show me exactly how much you’ve missed me?”
I arched a brow toward the Audi. “What about your boxes?”
Thaddeus didn’t even look. “Oh, I think I can find something that fits me even better.”
“In that case—” I took his hand and began leading him up the path. “—we’ll have to run like our tails are on fire unless you want Ziggy on our heels.”
Thaddeus nuzzled his face into my neck and murmured, “Piece of cake. Word on the ground is we’re good at running.”
EPILOGUE
EIGHT MONTHS LATER.
THADDEUS
Ziggy turnedto look over my shoulder just seconds before two arms slid around my waist, and I was pulled back against a hot, hard body.
“Mmm, you smell so good.” Ryder’s lips ran over the back of my neck, sending a shiver racing down my spine. They travelled north through my hair, and by the time his teeth were nibbling on my earlobe, I was jelly in his arms. Eight months of living together, and it was the same every damn time. The man may as well have had Thaddeus’s catnip tattooed on his forehead. We had lube stashed from the machinery shed to the pump house, to the chicken coop—don’t ask—and everywhere in between, but they were especially necessary in the glasshouses. One in each. Other than our bedroom, those were Ryder’s happy places, which meant ifIwas anywhere remotely within reach, things were likely to go down.
Not that I had any complaints. Sex with Ryder remained one of life’s absolute highlights, as far as I was concerned. Isuspected the hens, our two new piglets, Boris the eel, and Ziggy, of course, had an entirely different opinion on the matter, but nobody was asking them.
Ryder’s hand was working its way toward my dick, spurred on by the fact I was only wearing a T-shirt and briefs beneath my overalls. It was an unlikely combination for a wintery September Saturday morning, but the glasshouse was warm, and my jeans and sweatshirt were still in a pile on the stack of propagation trays next to the glass Ryder had spread me against while he’d fucked me senseless just an hour before.
Which meant?—
I cracked open an eyelid and slapped the back of his hand with my trowel before it reached my half-eaten cinnamon doughnut.
“Ow! Goddammit.” He sprang backwards, shaking his hand. “You weren’t even eating it. It’s been sitting there for ten minutes, unloved and untouched.”
“I’ve been busy,” I protested. “The girls needed some attention.”
Ryder cast a look over my tomato seedlings and sighed. “How do you know they’re girls?”
“Because they wear red dresses when they grow up, of course.” I rolled my eyes. “And you call yourself a gardener.”
He groaned and made another lurch for my doughnut, but I got there first. I put my back to the workbench and took a large bite accompanied by a series of suitably filthy groans of appreciation.
Ryder folded his arms and grumbled, “Now you’re just being mean.”
I sashayed over and lifted the doughnut to his mouth. “Never say I don’t give you anything.”
He took a big bite, then pulled me into his arms, crushing our cinnamon-sugared lips together in a messy kiss and makingsure to rub it through both our moustaches. I shoved him away, discarded the remaining doughnut onto the bench, and wiped my sticky face, grumbling at Ryder’s lack of decorum. Ryder rugby tackled me to the ground for another protracted kiss leaving us both laughing in the dirt.
“I’m living with a Neanderthal,” I grumbled, scrambling to my feet and offering him a hand.
“And you love it.” He pulled himself up and walked me back against the glass where he kissed me, long and slow, making my toes curl in my gumboots and my dick do a little happy dance.
