“Before round two,” I waggle my eyebrows. “Wait. You didn’t think that was all for tonight, did you?”
“Well, I—” she starts to explain.
“I always make good on my promises, babe. Now let’s feed you so you’ll have plenty of energy for our shower scene.”
* * *
We’re lying in bed, completely satiated, dehydrated, and exhausted, but never happier. I brush the hair from her face and neck before gently caressing her cheek. Our conversation flows naturally with our whispers in the darkened room.
“With all the excitement tonight, I never got a chance to say I’m so glad you came over. But I’m not pleased that you walked over here alone in the dark.”
“I’m a big girl, Ace. I can take care of myself.”
“Maybe. But that’s still not a chance I’m willing to take with you.”
“I’ve never had anyone who wanted to take care of me before. I’m not sure I know how to let you do it.”
“That’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ll be glad to show you how it’s done.”
“I believe you. You showed Frankie, surely I can learn if he can. You know I came here broken.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Layne. After what you’ve been through, I couldn’t have blamed you if you ran when Margot pulled her shit. But you stood your ground and you stood by me. It was amazing—you didn’t even bat an eye.”
She laughs lightly. “I lost my shit a little bit when I walked in on Bobby and Cyndi. That destroyed my self-esteem for a while. But when I heard what you said after Margot kissed you, I was filled with so much confidence. In myself. In you. In us. It felt amazing not to have any doubts about your loyalty.”
“You’ll never have to doubt that, my love.” I seal my promise with a kiss.
“I was actually coming over here to tell you something,” she says, hesitation lacing her words. “Something I’ve decided.”
“I’m all ears.”
“I’ve decided…” She inhales deeply and pauses. “I’ve decided I’m not going back to New York at the end of the summer. I want to stay here. I want to live here in Oak Grove, to be with you and River and the baby.”
She’s giving up everything she’s worked for to be with me? I’m speechless. I’ve hated even thinking about the end of summer and her departure. I’ve tried to think of ways we could work it out, keep our relationship going, but I could never get past the guilty feeling I had from wanting her to stay. Now she’s willingly chosen to stay, but I still feel guilty for how thrilled I am over it.
She misunderstands my silence and I watch the hurt fill her eyes. The shield goes up around her heart, and she retreats back into herself. I move quickly to hold her face in my hands, forcing her to maintain eye contact with me as I lower my mouth to hers. “Don’t do that,” I murmur against her lips.
“Do what?” She sounds so sad.
“Pull away from me. You just said you don’t doubt my loyalty. I’m going to hold you to that.” My mouth covers hers and I pour my love into my kiss. She feels it, and within seconds, she engages. “When I said I love you, I meant it. Of course I want you to stay. How could I let you go? But then, how can I let you give up everything you’ve worked for?”
“Everything I’ve worked for means nothing to me without you.” She simplifies the equation and puts everything into perspective with just a few words. “If I sit in a lonely, expensive apartment filled with everything money can buy for the rest of my life, what have I gained?
“But if I’m here, in a cozy mountain home that’s filled with love and laughter, what exactly would I have lost back in New York? I’d take door number two over everything else in the world, any day.”
“So I shouldn’t feel guilty and selfish for wanting to keep you here? Or for planning an elaborate kidnapping scheme to hold you here as long as it took until they gave up looking for you?”
Her beautiful smile lights up her face. It’s clearly visible even in my dimly lit bedroom. “No need to feel guilty over it at all. I’ve researched how to claim squatter’s rights on your property so you couldn’t get rid of me.”
When our bodies join this time, it has nothing to do with lust or carnal needs. But it has everything to do with our connection, our commitment, our future.
Chapter Eighteen
Layne
“I want to apologize for my cousin’s behavior yesterday,” Zoe says quietly.
Her eyes are cast to the ground, and she’s nervously wringing her hands. The rejection she must have felt when she lived at home hits me square in the chest, and I instinctively wrap my arms around her in a reassuring embrace. She hesitates for just a moment, unsure of how to react, before she squeezes me in return.
“You’re not responsible for her, and you don’t have to apologize for anything.” I release her and pick up the stack of papers from the counter. “There’s a lot of information here I’d like for you to read over and seriously think about it. Can you do that for me?”