“I don’t fucking care.” Morgan leaned in to kiss her again, but Emilia kept herself just out of reach.

“I like your friends.”

“I like them too, but they’re not what I am interested in right now.”

“It won’t bother them?”

“They’ll be thrilled.” Annoyance flickered across Morgan’s expression. “And then they’ll find a way to take credit for it.”

“Oh yeah?”

Morgan attempted to kiss her once more and growled when Emilia held her at bay by bare centimeters. I could invite you to my place, she wanted to say, but the words refused to form. It wasn’t her place, not really, regardless of what the deed now read. It was her father’s, and she wasn’t ready to claim it or to bring someone else into it as completely as she knew Morgan’s presence would fill it.

“Please,” Morgan said. Her sea dark eyes stole Emilia’s breath.

“Yes.” She let Morgan pull her in, and the sweet smells of clean barn, horse, hay, and sunshine surrounded her.

The others had dispersed when they returned. Lillian sat on the couch with a mug of tea and a copy of Clinician’s Brief, Hermione curled up on her lap, and Muffin sprawled beside her. Angie and Stevie laughed from down the hall, and she heard what sounded like a video game in the background.

“Come upstairs.” Morgan linked her hand with Emilia’s and gently tugged. She followed, caught up in a riptide of inevitable longing.

Morgan’s room overlooked the orchard. A window seat framed the sunset view, and Emilia sat there while Morgan hopped in the shower. She still hadn’t set foot in the orchard. Old, gnarled apple trees spread across the sloping hill. No wonder Angie bought this place.

The rest of Morgan’s room was plain. Her queen-sized bed took up one wall, a dresser another, and a large, comfortable looking dog bed occupied the floor by the window. A painting of a field of cows hung over the bed, and a few smaller photographs lined her dresser. She left Nell on the window seat—Kraken had been quick to claim the human bed—and approached for a closer look.