Fading sunlight filters through the rows of trees. It casts long shadows between the trunks, striping the ground in dark bands. Everything feels quieter this time of year. Slower. Like the orchard itself is exhaling after months of hard labor.
Ashton texted me a few hours ago, asking if I could meet him out here to give him a hand with something. He didn’t specify what—just ayou busy? could use some muscle.
Now that Olivia’s back at college, he doesn’t have an extra set of hands whenever he needs one. And I know he’d rather die than ever ask his dad for help.
I find Ashton leaning against a large green tractor parked beside the barn, arms crossed over his chest like he’s been waiting a while and wants me to know it. His green eyes drag over me in an unhurried sweep that makes my pulse kick up a notch. He doesn’t move as I approach—just tilts his head slightly, lips puckered expectantly.
“Hi, baby,” I murmur, stepping into his space and brushing my mouth over his.
He smiles into the kiss, hands sliding to my waist and tugging me closer until there’s no room left between us. His flannel shirt is warm from the sun, his chest solid under my palms.
I thread my fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. It’s longer than he usually keeps it—curling slightly at the ends, overdue for a cut—but I love it like this.
I pull back just enough to catch his eyes. “We can make out later,” I promise. “But what do you need help with?”
A small smirk quirks at the corner of his mouth. “I lied.”
My brows draw together. “What?”
He pauses and fiddles his fingers, refusing to meet my eyes. “I have this, um… fantasy,” he mutters, barely audible. “But it’s… kind of embarrassing.”
I skim my knuckles over his flushed cheek, soft and reassuring. “Whatever it is, I promise I’ll love it,” I tell him gently. “You can tell me.”
Ashton draws in a slow inhale, then another, like he’s bracing himself. His gaze flickers up to mine and away again, his teeth worrying his bottom lip until it’s pink and swollen. The tension between us hangs thick, warm and electric, the orchard around us bathed in fading sunlight.
He squeezes his eyes shut.
“Iwannarideyou,” he rushes out in one breath. He swallows hard before adding, “On the tractor.”
For a second, I’m not sure my brain is still functioning.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I tip my head back and send a silentthank-youto whatever cosmic force decided to drop this man into my life. What the hell did I ever do to deserve him?
“You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you?” I tease, my fingers digging into his waist.
He lets out a quiet, helpless whine. “Troy,” he chokes out. “Don’t make fun of me.”
I shake my head, brushing my lips softly along his neck. “I’m not. Love how desperate you are for it,” I murmur. “And I’m going to make your wildest dreams come true, baby.”
I press my lips to his, hard and demanding, pinning him against the tractor. He gasps, and I take the opening, sliding my tongue intohis mouth. His groan is low, unguarded, and he presses into me, grinding against my hips. I can feel him already hard, the firm outline of him pressing against my stomach.
His hands snatch at the hem of my T-shirt, yanking it up and over my head, tossing it carelessly onto the grass. My fingers fumble over the buttons of his flannel, trying to get the shirt off without losing contact.
I groan, frustrated. “How many goddamn buttons are on this thing?!”
He laughs softly, shaking his head before undoing the remaining buttons himself. The flannel falls from his shoulders to reveal his beautiful bare chest, a summer tan still lingering on his golden skin. Tiny moles are scattered across him, like stars in a constellation I’ve memorized, my favorite being the small one just beside his nipple.
I trace a finger over it lightly, and he shivers beneath my touch.
“Get on the tractor,” he orders, tilting his head toward it.
I don’t need to be told twice.
I scramble up the steps, the metal groaning under my weight, and drop onto the leather seat. It’s worn and cracked, patched with duct tape. I’ve watched Ashton ride this thing countless times, but this is the first time I’ve ever actually sat on it, and the novelty makes my stomach flutter in a mix of nerves and anticipation.
I gaze down at Ashton, my fingers flexing involuntarily at my sides, desperate to get my hands on him again.
