Page 44 of Rebel

Henry groaned. “That’s kid stuff.”

“It’s family stuff,” Ronan corrected. “Which means we all pitch in. Move.”

Henry muttered under his breath but headed toward the store, his shoulders slumped.

Before I had the chance to worry about him, his younger brother by two years came running toward me. Jonas’s dark hair was wind-tossed from running through the maze, and his gray eyes were gleaming. “Mom! I beat my best time. Can I go again?”

“Later, baby.” I ruffled his hair. “Help Henry in the store first. Then we’ll race.”

Jonas flashed me a grin that was identical to his dad’s and took off after his brother. I watched them go, my heart so full it hurt. We had three pieces of us running wild on the same land I’d explored as a child. It was everything I’d dreamed of.

Ronan wiped paint from Faye’s cheek with his thumb. “Go find your brothers. Tell them to behave or no extra cider tonight.”

“Okay, Daddy.” Faye gave him an adorable salute and bolted toward the store.

He turned to me then, a knowing smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re staring.”

“And you’re covered in paint.”

He glanced down at the colorful streaks on his hands and shrugged. “Tradition.”

Every year since that first festival, he painted a pumpkin with me. The kids had joined in as soon as they could hold a brush. At first he’d grumbled about it, but now he put real effort in because the kids teased him mercilessly if he didn’t. He pretended to hate the razzing, but I knew better. He loved it.

I stepped closer, wiping a streak of paint from his beard. “Still think it’s ridiculous?”

“Every damn year.” His hands settled on my hips, pulling me flush against him. “Still do it anyway.”

“Because you love me.”

He dipped his head, voice dropping low. “And because winning that bean bag toss fifteen years ago got me the best prize of my life.”

Heat pooled low in my belly. “You haven’t given me my annual rematch yet.”

“Tonight.” His eyes darkened. “Winner gets whatever they want.”

I rose on my toes, brushing my lips against his ear. “Careful. I play to win.”

“Baby, I’m counting on it.”

We slipped away from the crowd, weaving through people until we reached a quiet spot. Ronan pulled me around the corner of the barn so we were out of sight and kissed me.

“Mmm, you taste like cider,” he murmured against my mouth.

“I love it almost as much as you,” I whispered back.

He groaned softly, pressing me against the wooden frame. “We’ve got kids running around and more customers than we know what to do with.”

“Success,” I sighed. “Sometimes it’s a pain in the butt.”

He winked at me. “But what a gorgeous ass it is.”

We stepped out from behind the side of the barn just as Faye came looking for us. “Grandma said I can help make the next batch of donuts, but only if Mama is there.”

“Coming,” I called.

“Not yet, but you sure as fuck will tonight,” Ronan muttered, giving me a swat on the butt.

Fifteen years ago I’d worried he’d never be content here. Now I watched him chase after Faye, our daughter’s delighted shriek joining the rest of the joyous chaos.

The orchard had grown right along with our family. And I never had reason to doubt that this was exactly where we both belonged. Forever.