Page 30 of Sudden Summer

“Adorable. Look at you, not wanting to listen to my birthing playlist, but being a midwife yourself, of sorts.”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I slipped my phone back into my jeans and slopped paint onto my brush.

It took thirty minutes for me to make it around the top of the room, mainly because I kept getting distracted by Birdie’s humming. I hadn’t told her about eavesdropping on her lullaby time with Juniper, but each time she started humming, that warm feeling I had in the barn returned to my chest.

“Alright, I think that looks good.” Birdie stood with a groan, stretching her arms above her head so the tiniest sliver of her side stuck out between her shirt and her overalls.

Except, it wasn’t pale pink that I saw.

Her skin was purple and blue, and I fucking saw red.

“What is that?” My words sounded like a bark. Cold, distant. Her side had been hurt for days, and I still hadn’t checked in with her. The small sliver I saw looked so fucking painful. Like the time my horse, George, kicked me in the thigh. He had been aiming for another horse, and I’d gotten myself wedged between them, so it was my own damn fault, but that hadn’t meant it hurt any less. She must have been in pain this whole time…

“What is what?” Birdie’s eyes went wide, her free hand cupping under the hand that held her paintbrush.

“Your side.” I got down off the ladder and closed the distance between us, my fingers brushing against the fabric of her shirt. “Every time I ask about it, you brush it off. I want to know what happened.”

Her eyes fluttered closed for one second while she took a deep breath.

“It’s honestly nothing. A situation at work got out of hand. Security handled it.”

“Chickadee,” I groaned, my forehead pressing against hers. “I could have been putting some arnica on it for you. Have you been in pain this whole time?”

“No. It was just sore the first day, but it’s gotten better,” she whispered.

And then she pulled back, just enough for her eyes to drop to my lips for a second before flicking back up. Fuck. I knew what she was thinking about. Because it’s what I had been thinking about doing nonstop for years.

“You seem to have gotten a little something…right…” Her hand reached up to brush under my eye, completely distracting me from the fact that she still had a paintbrush—loaded with pale pink paint—in her other hand. Suddenly it slid across my chest, painting a streak over my skin and dripping down my belly. “There.”

My jaw dropped open, and the sweetest laughter filled the room.

“Oopsies.” She shrugged, shrieking as I reached out and pulled her right into my chest, careful not to bump her side. I smeared the paint all over her as my chest rubbed against hers. Her sunflower overalls were now christened with the pink paint she seemed to love so much.

“Beau!”

I laughed, deep and so hard my sides hurt. Birdie’s hand rested on my chest, then came up to slather more paint across my cheek.

We were so close, I could feel her heart beating right against mine. I was sure she could feel exactly what that was doing to me. It was the way she was looking at me…

I couldn’t hold back. I slid my hands down her waist, pressing her closer to me as I dipped my face to hers. And then my lips were there, hovering just a breath away from hers.

“Don’t hide your hurt from me again.”

Her bottom lip went between her teeth. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I’ll worry no matter what. You’re so fucking important to me, Chickadee. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“I don’t…”

For a second I thought she was going to pull back. But Birdie’s eyes fluttered shut, her breath stilling as she pushed up on her tiptoes, and our lips connected.

I was kissing Birdie.

And Bernadette June Calloway—the girl I’d never really let myself dream of taking this step with—was kissing me back.

Holy fuck, I was kissing Birdie.

I opened to her, my tongue licking along the seam of her lips. She tasted like strawberries and sunshine, and everything good in the world.