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wouldn’t come true? When you agreed to give the architecture program a try, then married a woman whose ideals aligned so perfectly with those we’d taught you?”

Shaking her head, Susan crossed to Craig and leaned into him. “It’s hard to watch your son risk everything when you don’t understand why. It was easier to be patient and hope you’d come back one day.”

Continuing where she left off, Craig nodded. “And now you’ve married some artist you never mentioned, suddenly want to start some brewery, and live in this remote town? I guess we don’t know how to respond.”

Zane backed out of the doorway, catching Freya’s eye. “Let’s go.”

20

Walk in the Park

Dinner was… well, awkward would be putting it lightly. Freya had worked at Zane’s side in the kitchen, tossing together the salad base while he shredded and heated the chicken, garlic, and almonds. Nothing fancy, as he was too crabby to bake the salmon he’d planned. Craig had complimented the beer over dinner, the food, and he and Susan were both pleasantly surprised by the understated gourmet meal.

After watching a generic movie in a darkened living room until it was late enough to call it a night without looking rude, Freya dragged Zane to bed. He hadn’t said much. Nobody had said much. Nothing like the verbose Marks family meals.

Sliding into the cool sheets, the crisp moon illuminating the room, Freya reached across and smoothed the thick line between Zane’s eyebrows.

Taking her wrist, he kissed the base of her palm. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

“I understand why you don’t talk about your family much. That must have been hard to grow up with, not feeling supported.”

“Know what?” his voice was laced with gravel like he was suffering from back-to-back red-eye jetlag. “I don’t really want to talk about them right now either.”

His arm laced around her middle and pulled her closer. Pasting her body against his, entwining their legs, she didn’t argue.

Warm and pliant, his lips contrasted the hardness of his body, still tense from the day. Savoring, he tasted and explored. Like their first kiss, zings of thrill fired through her veins. Slow and easy, he trailed his thumb over her jaw and cradled her against him.

A soft sigh passed her lips. Heat licked through her, her breasts aching for him to touch her, kiss her again. Needing more, she pressed her hips against his and rocked against him.

“Uh-uh,” he murmured. “Only a few more days.”

A chuckle bubbled up from her throat. “We must be the first people in history waiting until we’re not married to have sex.”

Still kissing her, he grinned. “One weekend wasn’t enough for me. But a lifetime is more than we planned. So just a few more days, and then, I say we make up for the last few weeks.”

She pulled his tongue into her mouth and tugged before releasing him. “Think you could explain your plan to celebrate our annulment in precise detail? It might hold me over.”

One last kiss and he drew back to the edge of the bed. “This could take all night.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Freya lay facing him, letting the strap of her top fall off her shoulder.

Inhaling sharply, he groaned. “First, I’m going to…”

Closing her eyes, Freya listened to him talk for longer and with more detail than he had since she’d met him. His descriptions were explicit, his voice hungry as he described exactly what he had in mind, and the laundry room romp was nothing by comparison as he sent her soaring with nothing more than his words.

After a sleepless night, Freya awoke entangled in Zane. Sitting up, she caught him watching her with a sleepy smile, his eyes still unfocused and heavy, sleepy as he’d kept her up all night.

Consequences be damned, she leaned in and stole a languorous kiss. Skin warm and smooth against hers, he slipped on top and grazed his lips along the curve of her neck. In a trail of pure ecstasy, he circled her breast with his hands, his mouth, sucking until she cried out.

Whispering a teasing, “Shhh,” he lowered and pressed his mouth to her core. Laving, he gave her a taste of what he’d teased at last night. Her breath came faster, heat blazing over her skin, she came again and again.

Propping up to his elbows, he kissed her thigh and grinned. “So,” he croaked, “Breakfast?”

She scowled. “We’d better hurry before your mother tries to cook again.”

He bolted upright, “Fuck, I forgot they were here. Let’s grab a quick shower and then I’ll fry up some sausage to go with your scrambled eggs?”

“Is that code?”

“Ha. No.”

“At least say you meant to shower together?”

“It’s going to involve more than handholding.”

“It’s a date.”

During their not-short shower, Freya was convinced she might spontaneously combust. How much more could she take? There had been handholding. Among other… things. She’d demonstrated some of what she had planned for their post-annulment celebration. Showering and nonpenetrative intercourse wasn’t consummating. Probably. She definitely wasn’t calling Grady to ask for details on the semantics.

After a quiet breakfast, with actually not unpleasant small talk about the area, the weather, and even a few stories of Zane as a child, they agreed a local hike would be perfect. Freya scooped in her last bite of eggs and rose to clear her plate. “Riverside Trail is a lazy walk along the river. My grandparents and I used to walk along the main road and hop on the trail at the bridge.”

Susan smiled with an extra buoyancy, “Of course. That sounds wonderful. We’ll get ready to go.”

Zane rose from the table and cleared the remaining plates, even though his father still hadn’t finished. “Know what? It’s a really gentle hike. You’re perfect in what you’re wearing. Grab some shoes

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