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Prayers in Cotton and Dust

Penulis: Malika Swain
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-07-06 05:02:47

Aria – POV

The door creaks open just as I settle onto the couch, my knees curled under me, one of Kade’s sweatshirts pulled over my legs like a blanket. I hear the weight of his boots against the wood, the low rustle of his jacket as he shrugs it off, and I swear—just the sound of him existing in this space unties something in my chest.

He walks in from the barn, cheeks pink from the cold, hair a little wild from the wind. His jaw’s tight, brow furrowed—but when his eyes meet mine, it softens.

Every time.

He makes me feel like I’m not just wanted. I’m kept.

“Ghost calm?” I ask, voice quiet under the hum of the fire.

Kade nods, brushing his hands on his jeans. “Still tense. But he’s not pacing anymore.”

He glances at the window once before crossing the room, sinking down beside me with a sigh like he’s finally able to breathe again.

I watch him.

The way his long fingers rake through his hair. The faint crease at the corner of his eyes. That heavy, protective presence that sett
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  • Reclaiming Aria    Sunday Scatters & Quiet Smiles

    Aria – POV The light hits me like a bitch. My head’s pounding. My mouth tastes like regret and gummy bears. And there’s an elbow pressed into my ribcage that’s definitely not mine. “Sloane,” I groan, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling. “Tell me I didn’t make out with a blender.” She snorts beside me, buried under half a blanket and a very questionable tank top. “If you did, I think I dry-humped the washer. What even was last night?” “I remember wine. Laughter. Possibly humping Kade in the laundry room.” “Definitely. I walked in on that,” she mumbles into the pillow. “You’re welcome.” I roll over, wincing, my body sore in the best and worst ways. “Where are we?” “Kade’s bed,” she grunts. “Smells like cedar and bad decisions.” I laugh—then immediately regret it. “Ugh. Coffee. We need coffee. Maybe a resurrection spell.” “Hair of the dog?

  • Reclaiming Aria    Terms of Possession

    Sloane – POVThe sun’s warm but not punishing, the gravel crunching under my heels as I lean against the hood of Henry’s car, arms crossed, trying real hard not to keep looking at him.Spoiler: I’m failing.Henry Nichols. Used to be all knobby elbows and oversized glasses. Ran track like a deer on Red Bull and stammered every time I looked at him.This? This is not that boy.This Henry is tall. Calm. Lean in a deliberate kind of way. Built like he doesn’t advertise it—strength tucked beneath his fitted button-up and easy smile. He smells like cedar and clean soap, and I hate how aware I am of that.“Well,” I say, trying to keep the smirk out of my voice as I watch Aria and Kade disappear behind the screen door like they’re about to turn that old house into a fuckin’ crime scene, “you didn’t tell me this listing came with live-action porn.”Henry chuckles low in his throat. “I figured the view would sell itself.”“Mmm. You mean them or the kitchen?”“Depends,” he shoots back smoothly.

  • Reclaiming Aria    The Island Agreement

    Kade – POV The truck growls down the gravel lane, tires spitting dust into the fading light. I don’t bother with music. Her voice is still in my head—sweet, sinful, dripping in tease. Hardwood floors. Kitchen island. Porch swing that squeaks. My knuckles flex on the wheel. I see her the second the house comes into view. Sitting on the swing like she owns the goddamn sun. Legs crossed, curls wild, one bare shoulder peeking out from that loose blouse like an invitation. The breeze plays with her hair and she smiles up at me as I park, and it’s over. I’m out of the truck before it’s even fully off, boots hitting dirt, eyes locked on her like a man starved. She stands just as I reach her, and I don’t stop. I sweep her up—arms around her thighs, lifting her until her feet leave the ground—and kiss her like oxygen’s a thing I only find in her mouth. She gasps, and I take it—deeper, harder. Tongue brushing hers, hands gripping her tighter as she melts against me, wine-sweet and breath

  • Reclaiming Aria    Drunk on Rosé & Real Estate

    Aria – POV We’re still breathless from laughter when my phone buzzes. Sloane’s mid-rant about the tragedy of low-rise jeans making a comeback, but I’ve already glanced down at the screen—and I freeze. Kade [Thinking about how you tasted this morning.] [Thinking about how I didn’t get to finish.] [Thinking about bending you over the next available surface.] [You still sore, baby? Or do I need to remind you how good it gets?] Heat floods my spine like molten honey. My thighs clench. And I may or may not make a noise that sounds like I choked on my own soul. Sloane smirks. “Tell me he didn’t just send a dick pic.” “No,” I squeak. “Worse.” She grabs the phone, reads, and whistles low. “Well. Someone’s feral.” I slide it back into my bag with trembling fingers. “We need a task. A mission. A distraction before I end up dragging him into the back seat of his truck in broad daylight.” Sloane grins wide. “Perfect. Let’s find you a place.” I blink. “Today?” “There

  • Reclaiming Aria    Signed, Sealed… Slightly Tipsy

    It’s just past ten on a Saturday, and the air smells like sunshine and fresh bread. The little café off Willow Creek is tucked between a florist and a secondhand bookshop—white wrought-iron tables outside, tiny chalkboard menus, soft jazz spilling from the open doors. It’s warm, but not hot. The kind of morning that feels like it’s inviting you to stay. I’m already seated at a corner table, a flaky croissant in hand and my sunglasses slipping down my nose, when I spot Sloane strutting across the sidewalk like she owns the town in that black linen dress and those ridiculous heels she somehow makes look effortless. “God, I missed that smug little face of yours,” she says by way of hello, dropping her bag into the empty chair and immediately stealing a bite of my croissant. “You’re late,” I tease, handing her her own. “I’m fashionably frazzled. There’s a difference.” She waves for the waiter. “Two glasses of rosé, please. It’s past 9 a.m. and I’m emotionally unstable.” I snor

  • Reclaiming Aria    Dust & Grace

    Kades POV Sun’s high, heat thick and humming as I step out across the yard. Boots crunch gravel. Shirt still clings faintly to the sweat cooling on my back. My hair’s damp, curls stubborn at the edges—Aria’s fault. All of it. She’d kissed me on the porch, lips swollen, grinning like an angel in tight blue jeans and a soft white shirt. “Get to work, boss man,” she’d teased, handing me my coffee like I hadn’t just made her come twice and ruined my sheets. Then she’d headed off to the library like a damn angel. And me? I’m walking into the stables looking like I barely survived heaven. “Look what the cat dragged in!” Benny shouts from inside, leaning over a stack of feed bags with a shit-eating grin. “Afternoon, lover boy,” Tommy hollers from the loft above. I roll my eyes, lips twitching. “Y’all don’t got better things to do?” “Not when you stroll in looking like that,” Benny whistles, giving me the once-over. “That’s the strut of a man who didn’t even bother pretending

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