Chapter Twenty-Eight - Sunlight and Sighs
1405 Words
The next morning, golden light bathed the compound in warmth. The scent of grass, dew, and brewed coffee floated through the air as three yoga mats were rolled out on the lawn near the back patio.
Evelyn stood barefoot between Remy and Jules, stretching slowly as they eased into their poses.
The morning yoga ritual had become something unspoken between them—a way to reconnect, to ground, and maybe to catch a glimpse of the men before their day truly began.
“Speak of the devil,” Jules said with a grin, her gaze following something behind Evelyn.
Evelyn turned.
Ronan jogged across the far end of the compound, shirtless, sweat glistening across his chest and shoulders, his stride easy but powerful. Focused. Controlled. The same way he did everything.
Jules let out a low whistle. “Damn. He looks like a Roman statue that came to life just to ruin our standards.”
Remy snorted, holding a side plank like it was second nature. “You’re not wrong.”
Jules leaned closer to Evelyn and whispered, "So... have you seen him without the pants yet?"
Evelyn nearly lost balance.
Her blush spread like wildfire.
“I mean, come on,” Jules teased, nudging her. “Look at the man. I bet every single part of him is carved to perfection. Pure sin."
Remy laughed. “Let the girl breathe, Jules.”
Evelyn shook her head, but she couldn’t stop smiling. She looked again toward Ronan, who had slowed to a walk now, grabbing a towel and wiping his face.
No, she hadn’t seen him entirely naked.
Not yet.
But just the thought of one day getting to... made her whole body warm.
And somewhere inside her, she knew:
She wasn’t just falling for a man like Ronan.
She was falling for him.
Ronan approached them, towel slung over one shoulder, and his eyes narrowing just slightly at the energy he walked into.
The women’s soft laughter, the glances passed between them—he knew teasing when he felt it in the air.
“What are you three up to this early?” he asked, eyebrow raised.
Jules didn’t even miss a beat. “Oh nothing, just appreciating how fit our president is."
Remy chuckled under her breath. Evelyn bit her lip, cheeks pink.
Ronan shook his head with a dry smile, giving Jules a pointed look. “Glad to know I’m part of the entertainment schedule now.”
“Always have been,” Jules shot back with a wink.
He glanced at Evelyn then, and their eyes locked—long enough to steal her breath. And just like that, the teasing melted into something more.
Softer.
Private.
Real.
Ronan gave a slight nod, his voice low. “You good?”
Evelyn nodded. “Better than good.”
And they both knew—in this wild, dangerous world they lived in, that was everything.
Remy gave Evelyn a sideways glance and smirked. “You know, you could always join him in that shower of his. I hear water pressure in his bathroom is… spectacular.”
Jules laughed. “Honestly, it’d be doing the rest of us a favor. The s****l tension is killing me.”
Evelyn blushed again, but this time—she didn’t say no.
And that’s all Ronan needed to see.
He crossed the last few steps toward her, took her hand in his with quiet certainty, and said simply, “Come with me.”
No teasing. No pressure. Just that steady tone that always made her trust him.
She followed him willingly, heart pounding in her chest.
Ronan led her into the main building and down the hall toward his private quarters—a place Evelyn had never been invited to before. When they stepped inside, she took it in slowly: dark walls, leather furniture, shelves of books and tools. Strong and simple. Just like him.
He turned to face her, voice gentler now. “Will you join me in the shower?”
There was no expectation in his voice. No demand.
Just invitation.
Evelyn took a breath—and nodded.
The shower steamed around them, warm mist wrapping their bodies in quiet heat. Ronan’s hands were strong and reverent as he touched her, helping her into the cascade with gentle care.
Their mouths met like a match struck in the dark. Slow at first. Lingering. Learning. But the fire grew.
Ronan pressed her against the tiled wall, water cascading down their skin as he deepened the kiss, one hand braced beside her head, the other gripping her hip, grounding her.
Evelyn let out a soft moan as he rolled his hips against hers. The heat. The friction. It was everything.
Her hands roamed over his back, fingers splayed, nails digging into muscle as he ground into her with more purpose.
“You feel that?” he murmured against her lips. “That’s me wanting you. Losing my mind for you.”
The pressure built fast, a wave she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.
Her body arched, and with a cry muffled by his mouth, Evelyn shattered against him.
Ronan followed with a low groan, body tensing as he buried his face in her neck, holding her through the aftershocks.
Their breaths were ragged. Wet skin pressed together. Nothing but the rush of water and the pounding of their hearts.
Then Ronan leaned back, brushing wet strands of hair from her face.
“Next time we get like that,” he said, voice husky, “you better be ready. Because I won’t stop. I’ll make you mine. Fully.”
Evelyn looked into his eyes—and nodded again.
She would be ready.
Later, wrapped in a towel and sitting on the edge of his bed, Evelyn stared at her reflection in the mirror across the room. Her cheeks were still flushed. Her heart hadn’t slowed. Her body still hummed from his touch.
But deeper than that...
Something had shifted.
She reached up and touched her lips, remembering the weight of his mouth on hers. The way he had held her. The things he had said.
He wasn’t just playing with her. He wasn't just teasing her into something casual.
He meant it.
Her chest tightened with emotion—a mix of nerves, longing, and something that felt dangerously close to love. She wasn't sure when it had started, but now it was blooming wild inside her.
She wanted him.
Not just his body.
His soul.
His burdens. His future.
She got up, walked slowly to the window, and stared out at the yard where the sun now sat higher in the sky. She could hear faint laughter from the girls still outside. Life going on.
And she felt part of it. For the first time in forever, she belonged.
To this place. To these people.
To him.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes—not from sadness, but from the overwhelming truth that she wasn’t invisible anymore.
She was seen.
Wanted.
Loved in a way that terrified and thrilled her.
And she was ready to give it back.
That afternoon, Evelyn sat with Remy on the porch, both women cradling mugs of tea as the sun draped them in warmth. The compound buzzed faintly in the background—the rumble of engines, the clink of tools, voices in conversation.
But on the porch, it was peaceful.
Remy tilted her head back, sunglasses on, soaking in the sun. “This is the life, huh?” she murmured.
Evelyn smiled softly, her fingers curling around the warm mug in her hands. “Yeah. It really is.”
Remy turned to her with a sly smirk. “You’ve got a glow today. That’s not just the sun, sweetheart.”
Evelyn let out a soft laugh, her cheeks coloring. “Maybe.”
Remy reached over and gave her hand a light squeeze. “I’m proud of you. You’re coming into yourself. You deserve this kind of peace. And the fire too.”
Evelyn met her gaze, grateful. “Thank you, Remy. For everything.”
Remy smiled. “Always. That’s what sisters are for.”
They sat in silence after that, the sun warming their skin, their tea steeping in contentment. Evelyn closed her eyes and let the feeling sink in.
For once, there was no fear. No pressure.
Just the calm before whatever came next.
And she felt ready.
- Writer
