I nodded my head vigorously, stepping into his embrace. He smiled against my forehead, rubbing his rough, masculine jaw on my skin. "Come home with me, Kira," he whispered. "Come back home. Please. Let me prove that I can be the husband you deserve."
I nodded against his chest, breathing in the achingly delicious scent of fresh rain and my husband. My husband who loved me and wanted me to come home with him. The misery and grief and fear of the past weeks suddenly overwhelmed me and I gasped out a sob, burrowing my head more firmly against him. His arms came around me, and he nuzzled his cheek against the top of my head. "Please don't cry, Kira," he whispered. "I don't ever want to be the cause of your tears again."
I nodded, grasping his shirt and looking up into his expression, raw with love and tenderness.
He took my face in his hands, bending to kiss my mouth. I kissed him back hungrily, glorying in the taste of him, the feel of his lips on mine. I'd missed him so much. He leaned away, kissing the tears as they ran down my cheeks, his breath hot on my skin. Raising my mouth to his, I kissed him again and again, tasting the salty essence of my heartache on his lips, rejoicing in the way our kisses made it sweet again. Both of us were breathless as my tears finally abated.
When he pulled his mouth from mine, his eyes moved over my face as he whispered, "You could be pregnant."
I blinked and then shook my head. "I'm not," I said, recalling the day a week ago when my period had come. I'd been partially relieved, but mostly disappointed and I told Grayson so. "I thought even if you didn't want me anymore, at least I'd have a small part of you forever."
"Kira," he said hoarsely, pulling me to him again and hugging me tightly.
I looked up, my eyes meeting his. "Take me home," I said.
**********
After walking a grinning Kimberly to her car and hugging her goodbye, Grayson and I packed my suitcase and got into his truck, heading home. Home. At the thought of the word, my heart leapt with joy.
I'd pick up my car another day. For now, I couldn't bear to be apart from my husband even for an hour.
We spent the car ride updating each other on everything that had happened since we'd parted.
Grayson listened to me explain the plan Harley, Priscilla, and I had all come up with, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "I don't know whether to kill all three of you, or to build a shrine to your courage," he gritted out.
"I personally like the shrine idea. I mean, if you're taking votes." I gave him my most brilliant smile.
His eyes caught mine and he smiled back and then laughed softly. "That damn dimple may have just saved you." I laughed, flashing it at him again.
"I think Harley deserves a promotion," he said. "He's obviously gifted at task juggling. Not only was he helping you, but he organized a whole crew of men to come work at the vineyard even though I couldn’t pay them at the time."
"I know." I smiled. "Charlotte told me."
He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. "So I was the only one left out of the loop? Apparently everyone knew everything going on except for me."
I put my hand on his arm. "Never again," I said. "From now on, all my plots will involve you."
"You're not supposed to plot anymore," he reminded me.
I bit my lip. "Oh, right . . ." He leaned his head back and laughed.
As we drove through the gates of Hawthorn Vineyard, Grayson grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
We pulled up to the house and Charlotte came outside, clasping her hands to her chest in delight. We both got out and she descended the stairs, taking me in her arms and hugging me so tightly I laughed, struggling to breathe.
"How's Walter?" I asked.