She returned my smile and kissed me again. “Thank you for the watch.” Kiss. “I love…” Deep kiss, complete with tongue and a rumbled groan. She pulled away, grinned, and finished with, “It.”
“Very funny,” I deadpanned, sliding my hand down to her ass, squeezing, and using it to grind her against me. “I think I’ll have better luck coaxing this out of you in the shower.”
She moaned her approval, but when I stepped away, she caught the front of my shirt. “I loved you when I thought you were Luke. I didn’t understand it, but day after day, I felt it”—she took my hand and placed it over her chest—“right here.”
“Fuck,” I growled, my fingers spasming against her chest.
I went in for another kiss, but she dodged it.
“I still loved you even when I thought you were Agent Light sent to arrest me. You risked everything and saved me and my little girl’s life. I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”
My chest expanded into entirely new realms. I brushed a stray hair out of her face and pressed my lips to her forehead. “Jesus, Clare.”
“But, right now, after spending the last month with you and getting to know the real Heath, I can honestly say I love you more than Luke and Agent Light combined. But I never want you to think it’s just because you rescued me from Hell. Or just because you were kind to me when I needed it the most. I love you because you’re an incredible man who remembers something like a silly superstition from when I was at my darkest and bought me a gift so I could carry that with me into the light—with you. For that, I love you, Heath.”
I waited a second to make sure she was finished talking before I lifted her off her feet and covered her mouth with mine. She moaned, circled her legs around my hips, and locked them at the ankle as though I were trying to get away rather than crawl inside her the way I so desperately wanted to.
How the fuck was I ever going to find words to follow that up? There was no combination of letters in all of the world’s vast languages to properly convey how I felt about her. But, as I rested her shoulders against the cool sheet rock and moved my mouth to her neck, I gave her all I had.
“I love you, too.”
“I can’t believe you made me wear this,” I whispered to Roman.
Why I’d whispered, I had no idea. Probably out of habit. Because there was not one person in the entire movie theater. Of course, that was because bajillionaire Roman had insisted on renting out the entire theater. He’d done the same thing with the restaurant at dinner. It was a far cry from date nights back in the day when we’d hit the dollar menu at a drive-thru then sneak into a movie with one ticket.
But such was life with this new, loaded version of Roman. I can’t say it was a bad thing. He’d surprised me that morning with a pair of Jimmy Choos that cost more than my first engagement ring. (Not my second. That thing was a rock.)
However, this new version of him did come with some downfalls.
In addition to the heels, he’d also given me a pink Rubicon bulletproof vest to wear.
I’d attempted one of my typical fits, refusing to wear it. He’d sat on the edge of the bed, grinning at me, his sexy arms folded over his equally sexy chest. Moments later, his hand was in my hair, I was naked, and he was moving inside me while declaring that I would wear it any time I went out of the house.
Considering I was currently wearing that aforementioned vest under a silky, white blouse and black pencil skirt with the also aforementioned Jimmy Choos, we all know how that conversation ended.
“Oh hush. That’s the newest model of Rubicon. It’s barely three millimeters thick. You should have seen Simon Wells’s face when I showed up at his office with that batch. I’m most likely the first person in the entire world to get custom body armor made in less than an hour.” He patted his chest, where his T-shirt concealed his own vest.
He wasn’t wrong. It was thin. And lighter than I’d ever imagined a vest could be. But it was still bulky under my fitted top, and it basically erased my boobs.
However, the glint of pride in Roman’s eyes as I’d pulled it on made having the figure of a twelve-year-old boy worth it.
I mean, it wasn’t like we saw anyone else anyway.
“Where should we sit? This place is packed,” I teased, surveying the empty theater.
“Smartass,” he chuckled, walking up the steps.
Pointing with the huge tub of popcorn, he indicated the two seats directly in the middle.
Once settled, Roman began pulling candy from his pockets.
He knew me well.
Or so I’d thought until he handed me a bag of Raisinettes.
I stared down at the offending candy. “Are you new here?”
“They were out of M&M’s,” he defended.
“Um, in what world is Raisinettes the default choice when they’re out of M&Ms? Everyone knows chocolate-covered almonds are the only suitable replacement.”
“I hate almonds though,” he replied, tossing a handful of popcorn in his mouth.
I curled my lip in disbelief. “Since when?”
“Uh…since always.”