Page 21 of Fall in Kentbury

As we chat and sip, soft music flows over from a nearby band. An impromptu dance floor has formed, couples swaying to the melodies.

Bishop sets down his glass and grins, extending his hand. “Care to dance?”

I pretend to think before placing my hand in his. He leads me out as the band plays a lilting tune. Pulling me close, his hand warm on my waist, everything else falls away.

The world narrows down to just us two swaying together. The solid warmth of his body against mine, our synchronized movements, the way his hazel eyes stay locked on me. It creates an intimate bubble separating us from the crowd. We move as one, each step and spin perfectly in sync, like we’ve danced this way forever.

His fingers tighten at my waist, erasing any space between us until I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest. We get lost in the music, the moment, each other.

The song ends, but we remain suspended in our embrace, the crackling electricity palpable. The chatter and laughter around us fade into the distance.

Breaking the silence, Bishop whispers, “This day with you … it’s been …”

“Magical,” I finish for him, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his gaze dark and full of unspoken promise. Promises I hope he can keep. That this connection between us is more than the kiss we shared. “Yeah. Exactly.”

The night stretches on, but in our own private world amid the lanterns and starlight, we’ve forged a bond that seems built to withstand anything.

We continue swaying, lost in the soft guitar and violin strains. The world narrows down to just us two. His hand at my back gently draws me closer until his woodsy scent surrounds me.

As the music slows to a languid tempo, our dance becomes a gentle sway. His forehead comes to rest against mine, our breaths mingling in the cool night air. His eyes search my own, looking for something—permission, perhaps.

It’s strange how time seems to slow in moments like these. Every detail stands out sharply—the solid warmth of Bishop’s body pressed close, the gentle glow of the fairy lights, the distant hum of voices, and the soft, tentative pressure of his lips finally meeting mine.

It starts as a featherlight brush, hesitant, as if he’s testing dangerous waters. But as I lean into the kiss, it deepens, sweet like the cider yet urgent with restrained desire.

My fingers weave through his hair, pulling him close as his hand moves to cup my flushed cheek. The world falls away, leaving just us two suspended in this stolen moment.

When we finally part, breathless, the power of it resonates. His passion-darkened eyes hold mine, speaking without words. The kiss has said it all, conveyed what we’ve left unspoken.

My traitorous heart wants to stay in his arms because it has found something my soul craves. But my pragmatic mind knows this idyll is only temporary. Soon, I’ll be gone, my bags packed and his orchard in the rearview mirror.

For now, I push that inevitability away and savor the lingering taste of him on my lips, the thrill coursing through my veins. Tonight, under the starry skies, anything seems possible. I can believe in the impossible.

At least, for tonight.

One.

Night.

ChapterThirteen

Bishop

It doesn’t take muchto convince McKay to come to my place after the Fall Festival. I’m just thankful that I had plenty of people volunteering to clean up. Once we’re inside, I shut the door with one hand and pull her by the waist with the other. “It was so fucking hard to behave in front of everyone. I want you so much.”

I slant my mouth on hers and kiss her hard, so fucking hard I steal all the air from her lungs but surrender mine in exchange. When I’m done, I’m breathing harshly.

She blinks, dazed, catching her breath, cheeks flushed with heat. Her eyes, misty yet filled with mischief, meet mine. “I don’t know how to take that.” She smiles wickedly. “But you can always show me.”

A smirk pulls at my lips, fingers gently tilting her chin upward, demanding her full attention. “You think you can handle what I have to offer?” The challenge hangs between us.

Her hands, warm and steady, press against my chest, feeling my heart race beneath. “You’ve been teasing me. I want to see that it’s been worth the wait, Mr. Harris.”

She grabs the back of my neck and crushes her mouth against mine. There’s no sweetness to this kiss, only raw urgency and days of pent-up tension.

McKay’s fingers skate down my chest, working deftly to rid me of my jeans. She pauses, our eyes locked in a smoldering gaze, as she peels my shirt away. Her touch, like tiny sparks, lights a fire, sending waves of anticipation coursing through me. Every second without her touch feels like an eternity. With a swift motion, my jeans are pushed down, my hard cock springs, and an appreciative gleam enters her eyes.

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