“We know.” Harlow beams proudly, slinging an arm around Penny’s shoulders.

Laughing, I rise from my chair and embrace them in a quick group hug before returning to our respective tasks.

As the afternoon wears on, I find myself constantly glancing at the clock, counting down the minutes to my evening with Gunnar, eager to discover what he has planned.

Gunnar

Country music drifts through the late summer night as Ellie and I relax in the bed of my truck in front of Heart Mountain, enjoying views most people wish they could experience just once in their lifetime.

Typically, I prefer rock music, but listening to Ellie softly sing Lainey Wilson’s “Things A Man Oughta Know” while leaning against the cab, petting Bear, and reading the baby book I bought her, I decide I will gladly listen to anything as long as it’s with her.

The lyrics she sings remind me of her. By looks, Ellie is as feminine as they come, but there are a few things she can do that a man oughta know. Sometimes even better, and I love that about her. It’s one of the reasons we became friends so quickly when we were younger, and she filled that best friend role better than any guy ever could.

Little did I know back then that one day we would end up here, but I’m damn glad we have because this past week with her has been the best of my entire existence.

Most evenings were spent with us in bed, losing ourselves in each other, and as much as I have loved every second of it, I know she deserves more. Which is why I decided to bring her here tonight.

The radiant smile I was rewarded with when we pulled up to her favorite mountain was worth all the last-minute running around. She was especially excited when she spotted the empty glass jars I brought with me, knowing what they would be used for.

After spreading out the blankets and cushions in the bed of my truck, Bear led the way as Ellie and I went on the hunt for fireflies, a favorite pastime of hers.

It didn’t take long before we were back at the truck, settled into the cushions, and eating from the picnic basket I had the local bakery pack for us.

The glow from the lightning bugs and the full moon above us illuminate the high mountaintops and lush spruce trees, creating a picture-perfect landscape. Add in the fresh, crisp air and the beautiful girl next to me, and I am convinced there is nothing better happening in the world right now than this.

“What do you think about the name Elliot for a boy?” she asks, looking up from the book she has in her hand. “That might be cute.”

I grunt my disagreement.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asks, affronted.

“Nothing, if you want him to get his ass kicked every day.”

A subtle gasp parts her lips before anger sparks in her eyes. “You listen to me, Gunnar Brooks.” She points at me. “No one will ever hurt our child. If they even attempt it, we’ll both be throwing hands. Got it?”

Her fiery outburst draws a chuckle from me. “Don’t worry, he’ll know how to take care of himself, I’ll make sure of it,” I promise. “But that doesn’t mean we’re going to make life hard for him by giving him a wimpy name like Elliot.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, what names do you like?”

Dropping to my back, I slip my hands behind my head and stare up at the star-covered sky. “I don’t know. Something badass. Like, Madden or Axel.”

“Or Snake.” She giggles, laughing at her own joke, something she does often. No one finds Ellie as funny as she does.

“What about Lily for a girl?” she asks, moving on. “I love that name.”

“That’s nice,” I agree. “But if I’m being honest, Elle, the thought of having a girl makes me nervous as hell.”

It’s nerve-wracking either way, but even more so when I think about having a daughter.

She tilts her head at the confession. “Really, why?”

“Because I can teach a boy all sorts of shit,” I explain. “What the hell am I going to teach a girl?”

“All the same things,” she counters, making it sound simple. “Look at everything you and Paw taught me. If not for you two, I wouldn’t know how to change a tire, check my oil, or fish …”

She has a point, but what she fails to realize is I would still rather do them for her. I only showed her how to do those things in case there was ever a time when I couldn’t be there to do it.

“If we do have a girl,” she continues softly, “I hope she finds a boy best friend like I did.”

Considering she is now fucking that best friend, I hope not, but I decide to keep that to myself, not wanting to ruin the moment she’s trying to have.

Looking over, I find myself captivated by her beauty.

Despite my suggestion to dress casually, she chose a long, brown maxi skirt, and I’m not mad about it. The fabric drapes elegantly around her legs as she sits with one knee raised, revealing a delicate anklet and a few toe rings. The white crop top she paired with it offers teasing glimpses of her bare midriff, testing every ounce of my self-control.

What I love most about her attire though, is the white magnolia tucked in the loose waves of her golden hair. A gentle breeze sends those tendrils dancing across her face, proving no one else on this earth is as beautiful as my best friend.

A knowing smile curves her lips as if she just heard my every thought.

Setting her book aside, she crawls over to straddle me. Her skirt shifts to the tops of her thighs, inviting my hands, and the feel of her naked skin has my cock roaring to life.

Bear leaps through the open window, instinctively aware of what’s about to unfold because he’s smart like that.

“Do you remember our secret handshake?” she asks, her voice as soft as her smile.

“Yeah, I remember.”

Personally, I thought the idea of a secret handshake was stupid, but Elle was insistent we have one. She said it would keep our friendship sacred. I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I also wasn’t going to risk being wrong because a life without Ellie would be unlivable.

She extends her hand, waiting for me to prove it.

Lifting mine, we slap our open hands from side to side, then close them into fists, knocking them up and down before finishing with a fist bump and finger wave.

“We need to drop the finger dance,” I grumble. “It’s girly as shit.”

She throws her head back on a laugh, not the least bit offended.

“Okay. How about something like this instead?” A coy smile teases her lips before she slips off her crop top, revealing a slender frame and perky tits adorned in lace.

“That’s a hell of an idea,” I growl, the soft rumble blending with the melody of her laughter.

That laugh soon fades into a sweet little moan when I lift into a sitting position and bury my face into the soft skin of her chest.

Her arms find home around my neck as my lips cherish the tops of her small round globes.

She thinks they are too small, but I think they are perfectly proportionate and complement the rest of her. Besides, she doesn’t need to compensate for anything, not when she has a face like hers.