“Cheap,” Aunt Phee had sniffed. Referring to the flower arrangements, I hoped, and not my future husband.

It was true John didn’t make a lot of money, even with his coaching stipend. But he was steady and hardworking, patient and firm with his students, encouraging with his team. He would make an excellent father. Everybody liked him. Even my father, who rarely showed any interest in my life—Jo was his prize student and Amy his pet—expressed approval. Well, what he actually said was, “He seems like a stand-up guy. Just tell me one thing that he stands for.”

“Ashton, hush,” Momma said.

For once I didn’t care what my parents thought. John made me feel needed. Desired. Loved.

Even now, the smell of him, warm and familiar, sent pleasure signals to my brain. I stretched between the sheets, relishing the unfamiliar luxury of lying in bed beside John while the dawn edged the shutters with gray light. What day was it?

He nuzzled my ear, his early-morning stubble scraping my nerve endings to life. “You feel great.”

The familiar line made me smile. I tilted my head to give him better access. Encouraged, he slid a hand to my breast.

“The kids will be up soon,” I murmured.

John kissed the side of my neck. “I’m up now.”

My smile spread, my eyes still closed. “I noticed.” He felt so good wrapped around me, a blanket of muscle. “Don’t you have to leave for work?”

“It’s Thanksgiving.”

Thanksgiving. The word bolted into my brain. I jerked away. “I should call Momma.”

“It’s too early.” John’s lips brushed my temple. “Let her sleep.”

“Are you kidding? She’s probably making stuffing right now.” Cleaning stalls. Canning applesauce. Splitting firewood.

“Jo’s home. Let Jo help her.” He kissed my shoulder. “Relax.”

He didn’t understand. The only way to stop Momma from doing something was to get to it first.

But his hands, roaming under my nightshirt, were sneaky and persuasive. His body was warm and solid. Despite the drumbeat pulse of things to do, my breathing hitched. I shifted to my side to face him. He kissed me, soft, married kisses, coaxing. Tender.

I raised my head. “Do you hear the kids?”

“Nope. Don’t worry.” Another kiss. “I locked the door.”

“John.” I drew my head back on the pillow. “You have no idea what those children can do if you leave them alone for ten minutes.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “I know what I can do.”

A bubble of laughter rose in my chest, warm and expansive. “In ten minutes.” I was skeptical but oh-so-willing to be cajoled.

He grinned. “If that’s all I’ve got.”

He was so dear. So close. It had been so long since we’d had sex. “Show me,” I said.

He did, and it was good. Not Carolina Beach good, but warm and easy. He touched me, inciting, teasing, before he rolled me to my back. We fit. We always had. I clung to his shoulders in gratitude, stroking his back as he finished.