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After a year of Darcy coming to the village or Bennet visiting Port Ratapu on weekends, Lyon had finished sixth form with stunning grades and the opportunity to go straight to university.
He’d decided on the campus in Port Ratapu, and everything was packed. After this ride, they were driving away, only to return on weekends and holidays to the farm.
Nervous excitement rushed over him, and Bennet grinned into the morning sun, determined to reach the riverbank first.
He urged Doll forward, laughter jumping out of him at every bounce.
Darcy filled his peripheral vision, smiling, graceful, just as excited for the future.
They rode head to head, wind rushing over them, tasting summer and sheep’s wool.
Darcy gained ground and steered his horse around the fence line. Bennet looked after him, then looked at the fence, posts bent, weeds choking its rotten legs. He’d been practicing again. Showjumping lessons with Lyon every Tuesday for the last year.
He aligned Doll, slowed her down from a gallop to a controlled canter—
Over. They landed gracefully and, laughing, Bennet spurred Doll on full throttle until they reached the riverbank.
He scanned for Darcy and found him slowing to a trot, shaking his head, staring at Bennet in admiration.
“What a leap,” Darcy said when he reached him a good thirty seconds later.
A breeze scuttled over the grass, lifting a thousand silver dandelion seeds into the air around them.
Their horses sniffed each other, and Bennet moved his until he could grab the back of Darcy’s saddle and lean into a kiss of their own. “I love the rush of it.”
“Not afraid you’ll fall?”
Another warm kiss. “I already have.”
“I cannot get enough of this room,” Bennet said, still panting, sliding his bare limbs under the heavy green blankets of their four-poster bed.
“And here,” Darcy said, blankets pooled over his naked lap, matching pillows propped behind his back, “I’d hoped you couldn’t get enough of me.”
Bennet curled toward him, head resting on the pillow beside his. It was late, but like every night, Darcy would take the last twenty minutes to read.
He eyed Darcy’s book and smiled. “You’re reading it again?”
“I only had the electronic edition last time. It’s a whole other experience holding the book.”
“Admit it, you enjoy Finley’s romance. You love all the pining and epicness.”
Darcy didn’t quite hide his expression behind the book fast enough.
Bennet was sitting up now, peeking at the pages he’d edited over a year ago. “You do.”
“That’s not the only thing I like.”
Bennet raised a brow.
“You show up in here. I like the glimpses of the man I love within its pages.”
“Say that again.”
“I like glimpsing you in the book.”
“The other part.”
Darcy’s soft, dancing eyes met his. “The man I love?”
Bennet smiled softly. “I want to hear you say it.”
Darcy set Finley’s book aside, cupped Bennet’s face and held his gaze. “I love you.”
Bennet pulled Darcy on top of him. “I love you, too.”
