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Only when she’s done writhing and calling my name do I move between her legs and give in to the pulsing of my cock. Elbows near her shoulders, I cup her head and kiss her as we make love slowly, intensely, as if nothing else exists. She’s gorgeous and undone underneath me, and for a few more perfect days, I can pretend that she’s mine alone.
When I feel her contracting around me, I can hardly hold back, but I force myself to watch, to memorize every moment of this. It might be one of my last orgasms with her—I want to be able to remember it.
She falls asleep tucked up against me, her hand curled into my shirt. Just before her breath evens out, Jen mumbles, “I always knew we belonged together.”
My chest clenches. I’m not sure she’ll think that when she finds out about my past.
It takes a long time for me to fall asleep and when I do, I dream of her.
The final elimination challenge between our team, Tex and Reg, and Carla and Emma is a pie-baking extraordinaire. We need to make six pies—three fruit pies and three custard pies—and decorate them with as much detail as possible.
Jen has her game face on, and she’s never looked better. Hair pulled back in a tight bun, white chef’s jacket on, and hands clenched behind her back, she looks ready for anything.
I’m so damn proud to be by her side.
In the rafters, all of Heart’s Cove is here—with bells on. I spy my sister with a blinding smile on her face right beside Dorothy, Margaret, Lottie, and Agnes. The Four Cups girls are all there, along with Trina and Iliana—and all their men.
I can’t believe I walked away from this place. The years I spent in Heart’s Cove were the best of my life…but was I just running from my past? I can’t stay here knowing Slim is looking for me—knowing I’m bringing that shit on all these good people’s doorsteps.
My attention turns to Jen. When the judges walk in with Carrie, Jen slips her hand in mine and gives me a squeeze. My heart grows as I hold her hand, feeling more connected than I ever have. I owe this to her. She deserves to win, to prove to everyone—and herself—that she’s the best.
So, when the timer starts, I’m ready.
“Cold butter this time,” I say, producing a block from the fridge.
Jen grins. “You’re a quick study.”
“I’ve got a good teacher.”
We work so well together, I never want this day to end. Jen makes an apple filling and places it near the edge of the barn near a window to cool slightly. Then she moves on to a mixed berry filling while I mix pie dough ingredients.
A flap of wings makes us glance at the window. A large black crow is perched on the edge of the bowl of apple-pie filling, pecking at the spiced fruit. Jen screams, rushing the bird. The bird hops but doesn’t fly away. It just stays near the bowl, dragging it closer to the edge of the window with its talons.
When the whole bowl topples out the window, Jen stumbles to a stop and gapes. Then turns to glare at me. “Appeasing our overlords, huh.” Her head cants. “Making peace with the birds. Isn’t that what you said?”
I cringe, hands still working the butter through the bowl of flour in front of me.
“Getting them on our side.” Jen walks up to our station, glancing back at the window. “You said the crows would be our best allies.”
Clearing my throat, I pause what I’m doing. “I may have misjudged the consequences of my actions.”
Story of my life.
Jen surprises me by snorting, then bursting out laughing. She covers her mouth with the back of her hand and shakes her head at me. “I wasted fifteen minutes on that filling.” Eyes glimmering, she gives me a cheeky grin. “You’re lucky you have other skills.”
If I was worried that Jen was the type to hold a grudge, the apple-pie filling proves otherwise. She just gets back to work peeling and chopping more apples, working at double speed. My shoulders drop, and I allow myself a smile.
The competition means everything to Jen, but still, she’s not angry. Just like when she saw me for the first time in the guesthouse—she had every right to be angry at me for leaving Heart’s Cove at the start of the year, but she seemed to forget about it as soon as we started working together. She forgave me for the croissants within an hour of saving us from elimination.
Maybe I could tell Jen about my past, and she wouldn’t react as badly as I think. Maybe… Maybe there’s a chance this could work between us. If I told her about my time in prison, would Jen just shrug and move on the same way she did just now? Would she shoot me a little grin and accept me for who I am, dark past and all?
Or would my hidden secrets be one step too far? Maybe I’m burning through Jen’s good graces.
Turning back to the pie dough, I trade out with Jen so she can add the water and start forming the dough to chill it.
Hours tick by, and the two of us work like magic together. I’ve never felt as good in the kitchen as I do with Jen by my side. She gives clear, direct instructions, but still trusts my skills. I watch her shape and carve pie dough into beautiful leaf shapes to put on top of our pumpkin pie, then she uses scraps to make more sculptural floral arrangements out of pie dough to use for later decoration. The apple pie is covered with a fine, delicate lattice.
As I watch her crimp the sides of a glossy, delicious-looking cherry pie, my heart thunders.
