I pulled up my boxers and crawled forward just far enough to face-plant on my side with my face against his chest, right above the littleFanaillelogo.
“Still not vanilla,” I croaked. I was a mess, my throat was raw, and I wassodamnproudofit.
“And you’re still happy with whatever flavor we are?” Cal askedsoftly.
Was he joking? He had to be. How could anything about this situation suggest that I was anything but blissfulwith anything and everything wewere?
But something in his voice told me that he was serious, so I made the effort to lift my head just far enough to gaze into hiseyes.
“So happy, Caelan. I love you,” I told him, still breathless. “I love this. I loveus.”
Cal nodded, but there was still a flicker of something in hiseyes.
I lifted my hand to his cheek. “What?” Idemanded.
He sighed. “I’m being dumb. Overthinking what you and Ethan Scott were talking about earlier, about wishing you could see the world. Worrying that at some point you’ll realize how much you’ve given up to live here with me, and decide O’Leary’s not enough for you. I’ve been trying to solve that problem before it even comes up.” He shot me a rueful smile. “You knowme.”
Yeah, I knew him. Plus, I had first-hand experience worrying about shit I shouldn’t.I knew logic played nopart.
I rested my hand over his racing heart. “How can you think I gave up anything when you gave me all this?” I asked him. “A town and a family and a place where Ibelong? That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Cal. It’s what I wanted to find in Oslo and Greece and all those other places. I was ready to search the whole fucking world for this and it was waiting for me practicallynext door.” I huffed out a laugh. “I’m not leaving this town without you. And if we never go further than Rushton, that’s fine.” I tapped his chest with my fingers. “I’ve got everything I need righthere.”
“Yeah?” Cal carded his fingers through my hair and leaned forward to press his lips to mine. “Thanks, baby,” he saidquietly.
I was the one who felt grateful. He didn’t often need reassurance, and I loved that he trusted me to give it to him when hedid.
“I got lucky the day you walked into my bakery,” hesaid.
I shook my head. “No victor believes inchance.”
Cal groaned and leaned his head back against the tree, so he could smile down at me. “Okay, I havegotto get you a new quote-a-day calendar,” he complained. “Calvin and Hobbes or something. Nietzsche is getting fuckingdepressing.”
I laughed and buried my face in his chest. “There’s always nextyear.”
And the year afterthat.
And the year afterthat.
And the year afterthat.
