Page 90 of Sugar & Shadows

I swallowed. It was difficult, the lump in my throat getting bigger.

Somehow I had the wherewithal to walk her through the filtering and storage, answering her questions as I went.

“So it just boils down.”

“For hours,” I said. “It takes forty gallons of sap to make a single gallon of syrup.”

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. The move was sexy and vulnerable, and even though there was no fire burning, the shack felt impossibly hot.

“It’s a twenty-four-hour process,” I said as she stepped closer to me. “We spend all day gathering the sap, and all night boiling it.”

“What an inefficient process,” she said with a smirk.

“Magic isn’t efficient,” I told her, my voice suddenly raspy. “Nature doesn’t care about optimization.”

Her cheeks were flushed, and under the dim lights, her skin glowed.

This day had been strange, challenging, and exhilarating. We’d spent the last couple of hours together, yet I wanted more time with her.

Without my permission, my body moved toward her, my hands reaching out.

She didn’t back up or speak. She just held my gaze.

And as I cupped her cheek, I knew I had to kiss her.

I stepped in, and she tilted her head up, those eyes burning with heat.

God, she was beautiful. And frustrating. And completely wrong for me in every way.

But none of that mattered as I lowered my lips to hers. As she looped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer.

The world outside of this shack ceased to exist as I lost myself in the feel of her lips. The taste of her, the scent of her, and the way her body fit against mine.

This kiss was slow and deep. Our night together had been frenzied and aggressive, but this was an exploration of something I couldn’t even begin to define.

Clutching her hip, I pulled her in until our bodies were flush.

She opened her mouth, giving me more access, and my brain went haywire. I tangled a hand in her hair and deepened the connection, exploring with my tongue.

With a gasp, she met me with the same amount of fervor, clutching my nape and moaning.

Damn, I could spend hours like this, wrapped around this woman, holding her tight to my body.

“Sabrina,” a staticky voice shouted.

Heart lurching, I jumped back. Sabrina did the same. We looked at one another, chests heaving as the radio on the wooden worktable crackled and Harper’s voice carried through the small room.

“Where are you?” she asked. “The bear is on the maple cam. This is gold. I need the GoPro.”

Sabrina stumbled for the radio, and with a shaky hand, she brought it closer to her face.

“Harper,” she said as we headed toward the door.

“We’ve got Betsy,” the teenager said. “Get over there with the GoPro and get me some shots. Bear shenanigans are genius.”

We took off, trudging up the path toward the edge of the trees, where we’d left the ATV and a lot of expensive camera equipment.

Sure enough, as we crested the hill, a banging noise echoed through the woods and we found Betsy Ross with her snout in a metal bucket, licking sap. Heart thundering, I pushed Sabrina behind me.