Page 30 of Sweetly Yours

“I want to feel you,” I growl, quickening my pace, my thumb circling her clit faster. “Come for me, Willow.”

Her body tenses, her back arching off the bed as her climax washes over her, pulling a soft, breathless cry from her lips. The way her walls clench around me, the way she moves beneath me, is enough to send me over the edge. With a deep groan, I bury myself in her one last time, my release spilling into her as the pleasure overtakes me.

We collapse together, our breaths mingling in the quiet of the room, the glow of the moonlight washing over us. I press a soft kiss to her forehead, her cheek, her lips, unable to resist her.

“You’re perfect,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

She smiles up at me, her fingers brushing along my jaw. “So are you.”

I pull her into my arms, her head resting on my chest as her breathing slows, and for the first time in a long time, I feel complete.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

WILLOW

The cold morning air bites as Brock pulls into the bakery parking lot at 4 a.m., his truck rumbling softly before shutting off. Frankie is curled up in my lap, snoring away like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I can’t say the same for myself, though.

Last night, I felt things I’ve never felt before. Not just the physical stuff—though that was, well,wow—but the way Brock made me feel emotionally. Seen. Wanted. Protected.

He gets out of the truck and jogs around to my side, opening the door for me like it’s second nature. His hand is warm and solid on my waist as he helps me down, and I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my face.

“You sure you don’t want me to hang out here for a bit?” he asks, his voice low and rough with early morning grogginess.

I shake my head, tucking Frankie’s leash into my coat pocket. “I’ll be fine. Frankie will keep me company.”

His dark eyes search mine for a second before he nods, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “Text me if you need anything.”

“I will,” I promise, my fingers brushing his hand briefly before I step back.

He waits until I’m inside and the door is locked behind me before heading out. Watching his taillights disappear down Main Street, I feel a small pang of longing. It’s like I already miss him, even though I’ll see him later.

Inside, the bakery feels like a warm hug. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla is familiar, comforting, and it helps settle my nerves from the night before.

I set Frankie down, and he immediately begins his inspection of the place, sniffing around like he hasn’t been here a hundred times before. “Come on, Frankie,” I call, shaking my head. “Let’s get to work.”

By the time the first customers arrive, I’m in the groove—mixing, frosting, and plating like the stress of the last 24 hours never happened. But then my phone buzzes on the counter, drawing my attention.

It’s a text from Brock.

Brock: Liam’s done with the car. He’ll drop it off this afternoon.

A warm smile spreads across my face. He didn’t just handle the tires—he made sure the car was fixed and brought back to me.

Me: Thank you. You didn’t have to do all that.

Brock: Baby, I’m your man. Of course I did.

I bite my lip to keep from grinning too widely as a few regulars come through the door. I can practically hear his voice when I read the words, and it sends a warm flutter through my chest.

By ten, the first wave of customers has come and gone, and I’m in the kitchen frosting cupcakes when the bell jingles again.

“Hey, baker girl,” June calls out, strolling in like she owns the place. She’s holding two coffees, her athleisure outfit perfectly put together as always.

I chuckle, setting down the piping bag. “Morning, coffee fairy.”

She places one of the cups on the counter in front of me. “Figured you needed this. You’ve got that ‘I didn’t sleep much’ glow going on.”

“Subtle,” I mutter, taking a sip, but I can’t help the little smile tugging at my lips.

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