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“Fuck, Lila,” I choke out raggedly, letting go, filling her with my come at the same time she cries out bucking. We climax together without taking our eyes off each other. The whole world shrinks to just us, in this moment. I wrap my arms around her, kissing her cheeks, forehead, and lips before burying my nose in that sweet spot between her neck and collarbone.

Lila clings to me and we stay like that, until our breathing starts to normalize. I stare at the ceiling, with my heart still hammering. But it isn’t long before those words creep back into my reality, painfully and clearly: I’m going home to Chicago after the contest.

She meant them and now her fingers trace lazy patterns on my chest like she belongs here, and I want to ask if she’s changed her mind.

I shut my eyes, letting myself memorize the weight of her against me while I still can.

The letting go hasn't started yet, but I can already taste it.

Chapter ten

Gideon’s cabin. Last night. In his mother’s bakery. In the shower this morning.

I’m not sure how much I slept or exactly how I woke up in his sheets with his flannel shirt on, and nothing else.

But I’ve been buzzing, on a high all day. The contest is behind me. I did my best. The 10 a.m. start went off without a hitch. There were no sabotage attempts from Nell despite the death glares, and my pie, the recipe for number three, came out of the oven with a crust that looked like something from a magazine. While the serious-faced monitors circled, I wasn’t intimidated, I just smiled while they were taking notes.

Gideon picked me up at three. We went back to his place to change for dinner and the ceremony. Now I’m walking up the steps to Clara’s porch in my lucky heels with his protective hand on my back.

Gideon opens the door, and I step into the cozy home where he grew up. “Smells like Christmas came early.”

“You taking first place tonight is sure going to feel like it.” He toes his boots off, leaves them with the others piled by the front door and grabs my hand. “Weather held up, looks like everyone’s here. C’mon, I want to show you off.”

I glimpse down at our intertwined fingers. “I guess our deal is out the window.”

“We left that plan on a pile of flour in the storage room last night.” He sweeps down and kisses my neck.

“And then in the cabin, and just an hour ago in the shower.” I laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m not complaining.”

We stroll through Clara’s lived-in, charming home and head toward the sound of laughter. “Now don’t stress, okay? My brothers can be a handful, but don’t let them get away with anything.”

Gideon gives my hand a squeeze when we enter the kitchen.

Zephyr sends him a private once-over and when he spots our hands, the corner of his mouth lifts. “You’re late,” he announces from the head of the table, gesturing to two place settings. “We started without you,” he teases. “Sierra threatened to eat the centerpiece.”

His wife is sitting beside him resting her hand on the high curve of her belly. “I did not,” she scolds, and then, to me, “I absolutely did. Come here. Sit. If you stand too long in this family they put you on dish duty.”

Eva waves from the kitchen doorway, with her dark hair in a loose knot. Slade’s behind her with a dish towel over his shoulder.

“How’d it go?” Lyssa asks, while pouring wine and water with the efficiency of a woman who’s survived both Creed Stone and a reality show. Creed himself is at the far end, quiet and watchful. I’ve had a chance to meet most of the group at the Grizzly.

Winter’s tucked under the arm of a Stone brother I haven’t met. They’re all so enormous and handsome, it’s hard to keep track of them. Seriously. They hit the gene pool jackpot.

The man next to Winter rises and extends his hand across the table. “Tanner.” His handshake is firm.

“Lila,” I say with a smile as the memory rushes back. Gideon told me all about how Tanner and Winter ended up on the town’s annual naughty list last Christmas. Before I can sit, another brother stands.

“And I’m Jude,” he says with a grin that’s a mirror of Gideon’s.

“He’s my twin.” Gideon explains, settling into his chair. I glance at Jude again, and they do seem similar, but the whole family does.

“Irish twin. I’m eleven months older,” Jude clarifies. “If he gives you any trouble, come to me and I’ll take care of it.”

“Funny.” Gideon sneers, but his eyes are laughing as he lays a napkin on his lap.

“So … tell me.” Lyssa asks. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. That baking sesh had to be nerve-wracking. How’d you do?”

“I think it went well,” I say, though the words are a bit tentative. “We each had an oven, five hours on the clock … it was all very professional. All that focus, and then, poof ... it was over. Now we wait. And pray.” I hold my hand up with a grin and cross my fingers.