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I braced my hands on his shoulders and rolled my hips faster, the angle hitting deep enough that sparks fired through my core. His cock stretched me perfectly, the thickness of him impossible to ignore, and every time I sank down fully I felt the head press against that spot that made my vision blur.

“Look at me,” he commanded when my eyes fluttered closed.

I did, meeting his gaze as pleasure built between us. Those green eyes held everything. Love. Fear. Promise. Absolute devotion. He watched my face the way a man watches a sunrise, stunned by the fact of it, grateful just to be there.

“Tyson, I’m close…”

“I know.” He shifted the angle, pulling me forward until my clit ground against his pelvic bone with every movement. His thumb found me between our bodies, pressing and circling with devastating precision. “Let go. I’ve got you. Always got you.”

I shattered around him, his name torn from my throat as waves of sensation crashed through me. He followed seconds later, fingers bruising my hips as he drove up into me, buried deep as he came with a groan that vibrated through both our bodies, whispering love confessions against my neck.

We stayed tangled together afterward, minutes turning into hours as both of us relaxed and fell asleep for a while. Neither was willing to break the spell. His heart thundered under my palm when I woke up to the sun rising through the sky.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Hey.” He kissed my temple tenderly. “I love you. In case that wasn’t clear.”

I laughed, the sound startling in the quiet cab. “I might have picked up on that.”

“Good. Because I plan to keep saying it. Probably annoyingly often.”

“I’ll risk it.”

His phone buzzed, shattering our bubble. Noa’s picture flashed on screen.

“Better answer that,” I said, climbing back to my seat on shaky and numb legs.

He hit speaker. “Hey, bug.”

“DADDY! When are you coming home? Aunt Delia is making weird breakfast and I want real pancakes.”

“We’re on our way. Few more hours.”

“Is Sam with you?”

“I’m here, sweetheart,” I called.

“Good! I drawed you another picture. It’s a cowboy riding a dinosaur because Texas should have both.” Her logic was flawless as always. “Are you sad about your mom?”

Kids. No filter, all heart.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“When my goldfish died, Daddy said it was okay to be sad but also happy that we got to love them. Maybe that works for moms too?”

My eyes burned. “That’s really smart, Noa.”

“I know. Hurry home, okay? Aunt Delia’s breakfast has vegetables in it. For breakfast!”

“The horror,” Tyson murmured.

“I heard that! Just come home. Both of you.”

She hung up before we could respond. We looked at each other, clothes askew, hair mussed, completely wrecked from our rest stop activities.

“We should go,” I said. “Before Delia feeds her Brussels sprouts or something equally tragic.”

“God forbid.” He started the truck, then caught my hand. “You okay? Really?”