Page 52 of Seeking Her Studs

“Sunny and I had a job to do,” she says, scratching the top of Sunny’s head, who is now seated firmly next to her. Somehow Sunny’s allegiance has gone from Briggs to never leaving Blaire’s side. And I don’t blame her for one second.

“What’s your plan with all these?” Briggs lifts a tupperware assessingly, his chef brain probably already churning.

“Well, I read in your mom’s recipe book that you guys really love chokeberry jam and sometimes I feel completely useless around you three, so I figured that I’m sure I can at least pick some berries.”

I see the earnestness on her face. She genuinely looks self-conscious. It’s true that Blaire doesn’t know how to do a damn thing normal people do. But it’s never once crossed my mind to be bothered by that.

I look at the berries she picked. A good portion of them weren’t ripe enough to be picked, still red, and it makes me smile because it’s just so fundamentally her to do something full steam ahead even if she’s not entirely sure she knows how to do it.

“You’re right that you don’t know a damn thing about the kitchen.” I say, meeting her eyes. “Briggs won’t let you near the chopping board for fear you’re going to cut your damn hand off. I have to go back into the stalls after you clean them because I’m pretty sure you just don’t notice half the hay that needs to be tended to. And hell, even a good portion of these berries should have never left the bush.”

Her eyes grow big in surprise at what I’m saying.

“But we don’t love you for what you can do for us or any of that. I love that you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. And that you’ve got a big heart that shows up even when time after time no one cares to see it.”

“You bothered to care about our mom’s old recipe book.” Briggs says, stepping closer. “And when you saw we like chokeberry jam, you didn’t just pick a few of them, but enough to feed us for the whole damn winter.”

“You’re not afraid of our grief,” Colt slides his hand into the back of her hair and tilts her head up to his. “Or our intensity.”

Her face tightens with emotion.

Briggs grasps her hand and kisses her berry-stained palm softly. “Or our love.”

I swallow hard. It’s all out there now. It only took one night to start using that word. Fear grips my stomach, wondering if we’re too much. But I trust my instincts which say, hell no. It isn’t even fast enough. This should have happened a long time ago.

“If you’re not scared of the shitshow that is Blaire Evans,” she says with a smile, but her eyes are welling up. “Then you can have every last part of me. But I think you know you’ve already got it.”

I don’t even realize I’ve been holding my breath until I let loose a deep exhale.

Colt lowers himself and brings her in for a deep kiss. When they release, Briggs tugs her by the hand into him. I grab her coffee before it spills everywhere and set it on the ground, patiently waiting my turn. I guess I’m going to have to get used to that.

I watch as she traces her hand up to Briggs’ hair and pulls his head in closer for their kiss.

When they pull back for a breath, I sweep her into me like the youngest brother I am who didn’t learn how to share very well, but just enough to get by.

I lift her legs and wrap them around me as I carry her inside, kissing her neck and pausing by the door when my lips reach hers. I breathe her in deep, still getting used to not having to treat every kiss as if it might be the last one. But hell, I see no reason not to do that still. I connect my lips to her with a passion that feels so intense that it should be impossible to match, yet here she is, pulling at my head to get even more of me.

I’ll give you all of me, Blaire Suzanne Evans. Every single time.

“You know what you and all those berries we’re going to preserve today have in common?” I ask her as I push the door of the cottage open and bring her through.

“What?” she asks me with a cockeyed grin.

“You’re both going to be airtight by tonight,” I whisper.

She slaps me on the shoulder, but a howl of laughter escapes her.

“That better be a promise,” she says, still laughing.

The response makes me laugh with surprise in only the way she seems to be able to.

Yep. Only Blaire. That’s our girl.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Blaire

I squint at the furry little beast between my legs, hoping if I don’t look at her head on then she’ll look a bit prettier. Me and my little beast have been through a lot together, but I’ve never had to learn how to groom her. I have a person for that, just like I have a person for everything. And that person is in Los Angeles, even though my little beast is living her best life in a remote cabin in Wyoming, embracing the wilderness lifestyle.

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