by B. B. Hamel
“I thought you were done for back there,” she admitted.
“It’s hard to kill me.”
“I’m beginning to see that.”
We walked together, side by side, heading back toward the road. Gage and Flynn had parked the car over there, and they’d meet us once they finished making sure the Caldwells weren’t following.
But Janey was going to be true to her word this time. She wasn’t going to follow, because she wasn’t stupid. I had known she’d try to rip us off tonight, since that was the smart move on her part. If I’d had no backup, she could have easily killed us, kept her money, and taken control of the drug trade in the whole area.
Instead, I had a counter move, and we walked away even. She was a smart business person, and she knew that coming after me would be very bad for business.
Which meant this was all finally over. Hoyt was alive, at least for now. I suspected that if he made himself useful, they’d keep him around for a while. Hoyt seemed like the type to stay alive.
But most importantly, I had Hartley. I had the money we needed to pay off whatever was left of the mafia, and I knew we’d get out of this one without any issues. The only people who really knew I was involved with any of this, along with Hartley, were all dead and gone at this point. The Caldwells would see to anyone else.
From the very start, all I had wanted was to keep Hartley safe, but as we went through this together, I found myself wanting more and more. As I got to know her, saw the bravery in her heart, felt her body pressed against mine, I knew that this woman was special.
She was more than anything I’d ever experienced before. She was more than I had ever imagined.
I stopped in a field, the moon high above us. She cocked her head at me and smiled.
“What?”
“I love you. I don’t know where we’re going from here, but I need you to know that.”
She dropped the duffel bag and threw her arms around me. “I know, idiot.” She kissed me hard and I felt it, deep in my chest, that burning need, that intense contentment.
We had made it through. We had made it through together.
And we’d keep on making it through, as far as we wanted to go, together.
27
Hartley
One Year Later
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as I walked through the damp grass. We’d had a good rain the night before, and the early morning dew was glistening on the drooping leaves of the peach trees.
I ran my hand along their bark as I passed, row on row of trees, each one just beginning to bear fruit. I took a deep breath, smiling to myself. I loved the smell of the trees as they began to bloom and bear fruit. Nothing made me happier than touching these trees, growing this fruit.
And they were mine. It was our land, Travis’s and mine. It wasn’t as big as my family’s farm, but it was beautiful and it was ours.
As it turned out, Travis had a ton of money saved up from the military. Between that and my savings, we had just enough money for a down payment on some farmland that had been foreclosed on. We reworked the land, bought trees, and planted them all along the property.
This was our first season of bearing fruit, but already I could tell it was going to be a beautiful harvest. The trees had taken root and were thriving, and they were already budding. We had some chickens and some livestock that we used to sell milk and eggs in the meantime, and Travis was still drawing a check from the military, but the peaches were going to be our real crop.
My very own farm. I could never have imagined that this would happen, let alone with a man like Travis.
As I turned the corner at the end of the row and began to walk back, I spotted him up ahead. He wore his usual dirty work jeans, but his denim shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his glistening body, already damp from sweat. He’d gotten up early to do some chores around the chickens and was now doing repairs to the barn.
He smiled as I came up to him. “Morning, farm girl.”
“Morning, farmer.” I stopped just in front of him, my hands on his sides. I kissed his lips. “How’s it going?”
“The usual. Building and such. Chickens look good.”
I smiled. “Good.” I kissed him again. “I’m going to make you a proper farmer one of these days.”
He laughed. “We’ll see about that. We both know my skill set is better suited for other things.”
“Oh yeah? Like that?”
“Like pressing you up against this here tree and feeling that firm ass in my hands.”
I couldn’t help but giggle and feel a thrill run through me as he picked me up and carried me to the nearest tree, pushing my back against the bark. He kissed me deep and hard, his tongue entering my mouth.
This was our life. It was hard and simple work, but it was real. Everything was built by us; everything was ours. We fucked when we wanted to and we did what we wanted, because this was our life, and we lived it together.
Slowly he let me down, still pressing me against the tree.
“You know,” he said, “it’s been a year already.”
“Since what?”
“Since that night.”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” I said.
“Good. I have something for you.”
“What?”
He dropped down to one knee. My heart started hammering in my chest. “I figured I’d make a proper farmer’s wife out of you. What do you say?”
“Yes,” I gasped, staring down at the ring he held. “Yes, Travis. Oh my god, yes!”
He slipped the ring onto my finger. I was surprised that it actually fit. He wrapped me up into his arms and kissed me hard.
I wanted to be a farmer’s wife. I wanted to be his wife, my farmer, my SEAL, my bad boy. He was still a part of the Navy, but they were phasing him out of active duty, as per his request. He wanted to do something a little less life-threatening, he said, now that he had more than just his own life to worry about.
It was me and him. It was exactly what I wanted. The sun rose over the horizon, spilling beautiful morning sunlight across us as he kissed me hard beneath our peach trees.
“Now,” he grunted into my ear, “let’s work on getting a baby in you.”
I laughed and then fell into his kiss, lost in his body and his arms.
I wasn’t going anywhere. I was his, always would be his, no matter what.
I wanted him, all of him, as much of him as I could and more.
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