“I would have you wash me, but I won’t be able to stop what would happen after.” He winks at me and I blush. I want to find out what would happen after, and I would love to touch every inch of his body. But Karen has probably already finished cooking and might come looking for us soon.

I know the responsible thing to do would be to agree to leave the shower, but it’s hard to concentrate on being responsible when he’s naked in front of me. I reach for him, gripping his length in my palm, and he steps back against the shower wall. He stares at me as I pump him slowly in my hand.

“Tess,” he groans, resting his head back against the tiled wall.

I keep my hand on him, willing him to groan again. I just love the noises he makes. I glance down, admiring the way the water is spraying us, helping my hand to glide easily over him.

“You make me feel so fucking good.”

His gaze on me makes me a little nervous, but the way his teeth are pressed together and the way his eyelids flutter, it’s as if he’s trying to keep them open to urge me to pleasure him further. My thumb rubs across the head of his penis and he curses under his breath.

“I’m going to come now, already. Fuck.” His eyes close and I feel the warmth of his release mix with the hot water, and I can’t help but stare until only the water is left on my hand. Hardin leans over, out of breath, and presses a kiss to my mouth.

“Amazing,” he whispers, kissing me again.

After I am dirt-free and feeling calm, yet wound up from Hardin’s touch, I dry off quickly and put on my yoga pants and a T-shirt from my bag, then brush my hair and pull it into a bun. Hardin wraps a towel around his waist and stands behind me, watching me through the mirror. He looks so heavenly and godlike and perfect and mine.

“Those pants are going to be distracting,” he says.

“Have you always been such a pervert?” I tease and he nods.

IT ISN’T UNTIL WE WALK into the kitchen that I realize how we look, both coming down with wet hair. It is obvious that we just showered together. Hardin doesn’t seem to mind, but then, he has no manners.

“There are some sandwiches over on the counter,” Karen proclaims cheerily, pointing near where Ken sits with a stack of folders in front of him. She doesn’t seem to be surprised or mind our appearance; my mother would lose her mind if she knew what I just did. Especially with someone like Hardin.

“Thank you so much,” I tell her.

“I had a nice time today, Tessa,” Karen says, and we start discussing the greenhouse again while we each gather up a sandwich and sit down to eat.

Hardin eats in silence, glancing at me from time to time.

“Maybe we can do some more work next weekend,” I suggest, then catch myself. “Never mind, the weekend after,” I say, laughing.

“Yes, of course.”

“Uh, is there a theme or something with the wedding?” Hardin interrupts.

Ken looks up from his work.

“Well, there isn’t really a theme, but we have chosen white and black for the décor,” Karen says nervously. I’m sure this is the only discussion they’ve had with Hardin about the wedding since he lost it when Ken told him about it.

“Oh. So what should I wear?” he asks casually. I want to reach over and kiss him after seeing his father’s reaction.

“You’re coming?” Ken asks, clearly surprised but very happy.

“Yeah . . . I guess.” Hardin shrugs and takes another bite of his sandwich.

Karen and Ken smile at each other before Ken gets up and walks over to Hardin. “Thank you, son, this means a lot to me.” He pats Hardin on the shoulder. Hardin stiffens but rewards his father with a small smile.

“This is great news!” Karen says and claps her hands.

“It’s nothing,” Hardin grumbles. I move to sit next to him and put my hand over his under the table. I never thought I could get him to agree to the wedding, let alone actually talk about it in front of Ken and Karen.

“I love you,” I whisper in his ear when Karen and Ken aren’t paying attention.

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “I love you,” he whispers back.

“So, Hardin, how are your classes going?” Ken asks.

“Good.”

“I noticed you moved your classes around again.”

“Yeah, and?”

“You’re still majoring in English, right?” Ken goes on, unwittingly pressing his luck; I can see that Hardin is getting annoyed.

“Yep.”

“That’s great! I remember when you were ten and you would recite passages from The Great Gatsby all day, every day. I knew you were a literature whiz then,” his father says.

“Do you? Do you remember that?” Hardin’s tone is harsh. I squeeze his hand, trying to signal him to calm down.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Ken says calmly.

Hardin’s nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes. “I find that hard to believe since you were constantly drunk, and, if I remember correctly, which I do, you tore that book to pieces because I bumped your scotch and spilled it. So don’t try to take a stroll down memory lane with me unless you know what the fuck you’re talking about.” He stands up as Karen and I both gasp.

“Hardin!” Ken says as he leaves the room.

I scurry after him and hear Karen yelling at Ken. “You shouldn’t have gone that far with him, Ken! He just agreed to come to our wedding. I thought we agreed on baby steps! Then you go and say something like that. You should have left it alone!”

Although she sounds mad, I can tell from the breaks in her voice that Karen is really already crying.