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When we reach the red barn, I gently creak open the door. Luna finds her indented spot on the leather couch, and I poke my head into Wyatt’s bedroom. I spot Vienna, asleep with the baby monitor camera pointed down.

A grin steals across my face. There’s nothing better than coming home to her, and I’m always looking forward to coming back after training and playing peek-a-boo. We’re also working on new words. We’ve finally got Dee-Dee down, so now I’m teaching her how to say Tuna. It’s coming out like toha, but she’ll get there.

I glance up, noticing the ceiling fan is off, so I turn it on for her in case she wakes up and wants to look at it spinning. That girl loves her ceiling fans.

Wyatt’s not there, so I quietly shut the door and glance around our rustic living room. The space is a hurricane of toys, and I never thought I’d love coming home to a mess every day, but I do.

He’s got the monitor app on his phone, so he must be watching Vi from somewhere. He takes that thing everywhere. He even showers with his phone since he’s got access to the app.

Sticky with summer heat, I grab my towel and head to the outdoor shower—my own little sanctuary that offers a sprawling view of the endless fields. There’s nothing better than a shower under the sunset or stars, and it’s one of my favorite ways to unwind.

I step out onto the back porch and head toward the wooden stall, only to grind to a halt as the sound of running water reaches my ears. Through the slatted wood, I catch glimpses of Wyatt. Water cascading over his sculpted back. Droplets glistening on his tan skin.

He’s naked.

So naked.

I shouldn’t be looking. No, I really shouldn’t be looking.

I especially shouldn’t be looking at the curves of his muscles leading to the firm, smooth contours of his lower back. He might not have dimples on his face, but he’s got dimples above his round ass, and that body is hard enough to carve a statue out of it. Michelangelo should’ve named that statue Wyatt, not David.

His hair is wet from the shower, curling at the nape of his neck. He tilts his chin up to the stream of water and shakes his head so a few droplets sparkle off his skin, and I get a full-on view of what’s dangling between his legs.

My chin drops.

I guess everything really is bigger in Texas.

Suddenly, he turns around and looks up.

Our eyes meet, and surprise brightens his features. I expect him to lurch for a towel to cover himself up, but he doesn’t. He stares at me, and I stare back, and then, to my absolute shock, my oldest friend starts getting hard in my periphery the longer I focus on his naked body. If I thought he was big before, it’s nothing compared to now.

I don’t even know how that fits inside someone’s body, and I’m never going to be able to unsee this. Now, every time I eat banana pancakes with him, my brain is going to be shouting REMEMBER THE SHOWER INCIDENT! at me, which is going to be exceptionally distracting as I drizzle maple syrup.

I’m not a blusher, but right now, my face might be flaming.

“Sorry, I’ll, um, let you finish,” I stammer out, soaking up one last glance at his hardening cock. “Showering, I mean.”

21

YOU CAN LOOK LOOK

WYATT

Dakota hauls ass out of the outdoor shower, and all those workout sessions are really paying off because the woman can run.

My dick is still a little hard from feeling her eyes on me, so I lurch for a towel, tuck it away, and sprint after her into the barn.

“Dakota, wait!” I stop her right in front of the screen porch door, clutching the cloth around my waist. “Hey, hold up. I’m sorry about all that. I didn’t think anyone was home.”

“Why are you sorry? You don’t need to be sorry,” she pants, stepping out of my grasp and up against the screen. “I’m the one who accidentally walked in on you in the shower. I should be sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh, intrude.”

Her voice is all tight, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, so I wave a hand, gripping my towel at my hips to make sure it doesn’t slide down.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m good,” I say, trying to de-escalate this situation. “This isn’t the first time a woman’s seen me naked, and it sure as hell won’t be the last.”

We stare at each other, and then her honey eyes drop to the V in my waist, lingering there. That’s… new. It seems like they light up with something, but she’s never looked at me like this before. I can’t tell what she’s got hiding beneath her frown, but then her breathing starts to pick up, and I think she’s looking at me like she wants me.

Holy shit.