Page 19 of Fern's Date with Destiny
Her hips bucked helplessly, and she buried her face in his neck, biting his shoulder to keep quiet.He hissed at the sharp sting, loving it, loving her.
She was trembling now, on the edge.He pressed his thumb harder, circled, and watched her fall apart right there in his lap under a sky wide enough to swallow every secret they’d ever kept.
When she came, she cried his name, a broken whisper lost to the wind.Her nails dug half-moons into his skin, and he wanted every mark.
He didn’t stop kissing her.Not even when she sagged against him, her face buried in his throat.
After a minute, she drew back, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-swollen.She traced his mouth with a fingertip, then lower, down the stubble at his jaw, the line of his throat.
“I can—” she started, but he shook his head, catching her hand and pressing it flat over his heart.
“Not tonight.”He kissed her palm, then her wrist, feeling her pulse race against his lips.“I’m so damn happy just like this.Trust me, sweetheart, next time, there’s not gonna be a single inch of you I don’t taste slowly.”
She laughed softly, the sound sleepy and wicked at once.“You promise a lot of very good things.”
He tugged her back down, rolling her gently until they lay tangled side by side on the old blanket in the truck bed.Above them, the stars wheeled on, silent witnesses.
Cody brushed her hair back from her temple, staring at her as if he could memorize her face by moonlight alone.
“Yeah,” he whispered.“I promise.”
Above them, the prairie sky spread on forever, full of stars, secrets, and the promise of every kiss yet to come.
6
Thanksgiving at the Fields house didn’t look like the kind of big sit-down dinners Cody remembered from growing up with his mom’s side of the family.Then it had been all starched napkins and forced conversation from people who saw each other so rarely they had nothing more in common than familial blood.
At Ivy and Walker’s place, it was more like organized chaos.Laughter in every corner, little kids racing through legs, potluck-style dishes lined up across the island and kitchen counter as if they were an army waiting for the horn to blowCharge.
Cody loaded his plate, ducked past Fern who was deep in conspiratorial talk with her mom and Ivy, and found an empty spot beside Ashton Stewart.The semi-retired foreman from Silver Stone ranch had becomeGrandpato the Fields family by marriage, but the man wore the title as easy as an old pair of boots.
Across the table, Harper Fields, seven going on unstoppable, peppered Ashton with questions between bites of pumpkin pie.
“Do chickens all lay eggs?”
Ashton looked down at her seriously.“If they know what’s good for them, they do.”
“Can horses swim?”
“Only if you pay ‘em enough,” Ashton deadpanned then winked at Cody.
“Don’t believe everything he tells you, sweetheart,” Cody warned before leaning forward to add, “Some horses don’t even wait to put on their swimsuits and rush right into the water wearing only their birthday suits.”
Ashton chuckled, eyes twinkling.He leaned back, one arm draped over Harper’s chair.“Good man here, Miss Harper.Knows which end of a horse to pat and when to keep his mouth shut.Better foreman than I ever was.”
“Lies and slander,” Cody said, but pride warmed him through.
He caught Fern’s gaze across the room.A quick smile flashed between them in the middle of the tightly controlled family storm.
Yeah, he liked this.Liked being woven into the edges of their messy, warm tangle.
Liked even more knowing he’d sneak Fern away later when nobody was watching and kiss her silly for a good long while.
By Wednesday, the easy warmth of pie and too many extra helpings gave way to work that wouldn’t end.Cody’s phone buzzed just as he dropped into the office chair to deal with a fresh list of supply orders.
Fern: I have a second to breathe.So, hi.You still kicking?
Cody: Kicking, running, riding, hurrying.Who ordered this delivery of chaos?
