Page 89 of Pretty Little Scars

I’m daydreaming about time at the firepit with my man when I walk into the stall where Tom and her kittens have made a home, and giggle when five little babies waddle their way over to me, meowing.

Tom’s in the bed, snoozing.

“Well, hello there, little bitties,” I coo as I squat down and pet the babies. This right here is every little girl’s dream, being covered in kittens.

Everyone except my baby sister, that is.

They’re so soft and precious, and I spend time with each one, making sure there are no injuries or illnesses.

“You all look as healthy as can be.” I nuzzle the little calico with my cheek, and she lets out the tiniest meow, melting my heart. “You’re going to be Ivy’s. You’re going to love her. I’ll take your picture for her.”

I pull my phone out of my back pocket and snap some photos of the kitten, then return her to the box with her siblings and send the text to my friend.

With that finished, I walk out of the stall with the intent of going to the paddock to see to the horses, but movement on the other side of the barn where the equipment is catches my eye, and when I see Tucker walk around the corner, my heart leaps.

And then my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth because Tucker Hendrix is shirtless. He’s a little sweaty and clad only in his blue jeans, and my ovaries just swooned. He’s holding his phone, and I see that he’s looking at the video feed of the barn, so he knew that I came in.

“Fuck, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

The next thing I know, I’m in his arms and he’s kissing me like he’s starving and I’m a buffet.

My hands plunge in his hair, holding on as he ravages my mouth, and then he kisses down my jawline to my neck. His arms are wrapped around me, holding me close.

“Missed the hell out of you, Duchess,” he murmurs against my skin. His grip feels almost desperate, and I pull back far enough just to see his handsome face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m exhausted, there’s a cat killing my beef, and I haven’t seen you indays. Cute notes and muffins aren’t doing it for me anymore.”

I huff out a chuckle and kiss his chin. “Thanks for all of the food. You’re so damn good to me, Tucker.”

“Bare minimum,” he insists and brushes a strand of my hair back behind my ear. “How areyou?”

“I had a nap, and I got to play in the garden, so I’m doing great. But damn, I miss you.”

His green eyes dip to my lips. “I have time.”

“How much time?”

He doesn’t even bother to check his watch. He just corners me back against the wheel well of the tractor and resumes kissing down my neck to my collarbones.

“I have enough time to make you come,” he growls against my skin. “Jesus, you’re in the sexiest fucking outfit, baby.”

“It’s just?—”

“Tiny little shorts,” he interrupts, his hand drifting up my thigh and under the hemline at my ass, giving me tingles. “Tight little tank top, showing off your spectacular tits.”

“My tits are spectacular?”

“They should come with a warning label.”

He’s so damn fun.

“What would it say?”

“Warning: Will make you come in your pants in three seconds.”

My eyes widen. “Didyou come in your pants?”