His chin is lifting, clearly enjoying my praise. “What else?”
“I can’t speak for others, but my favorite thing, what means the most to me, is what happens after. When both of us have come and our bodies are at their most relaxed. Most sated.” I stroke a finger along his jaw. “You clean me up with a gentle touch, and then you hold me like I’m a rare jewel, delicate and beautiful and unlike anything you’ve ever encountered.”
He gives me an odd look, like I’m missing something. Like it should be as clear as the night sky above our heads. “Because you are, Natalie.”
I close the distance between us until his forehead rests against mine.
“Sweetheart,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “This is it for me. My life didn’t begin until you came into it. Dead over ahundred and twenty years, and you were the one who made me feel alive. I fucked up by letting you go. I shouldn’t have. But if you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of our days killing spiders for you, cleaning up your crumbs, stocking the study with bookmarks, and braiding your hair.” Then a whisper, a plea. “Please, Natalie. Let me show you that I can love you better than anyone ever could.”
I want to say yes. I want to forget about the last month we were apart and go back to how things were. But nothing about our situation has changed. How can we move forward with so much still stacked against us? “It’s still Lindsay’s house. How can we–”
“No, it isn’t.”
I pull back to look at him. “What do you mean?”
He smiles. “I traded the house for the last of my worldly possessions from when I was alive. Nothing that mattered to me, just stuff that my father-in-law thought was valuable, and gave to us as wedding presents.”
I’m having trouble forming words. Or coherent thoughts. “What did you trade?”
“Susanna’s wedding ring, as well as mine, some jewelry of hers, and a painting her father won at an auction. He was a big art collector and was always adding pieces he thought were a good investment.”
“Holy shit. And Lindsay sold them for you?”
He nods. “Yeah, friends of hers from Boston who connected her with a jewelry dealer and an art dealer. I didn’t expect them to be worth much, if anything.”
“And?”
His grin is so wide I can practically see all his teeth. “Ended up being five hundred thousand, give or take.”
I push out of his arms unintentionally, shocked and bewildered and having no clue how to process this news.
“So Lindsay sold the house to you?”
He shakes his head. “To us. Your name is on the deed too.”
I launch myself at him, in utter disbelief that the thing that’s been hanging over both of us, following us from room to room inside that house, is finally gone. He spins me around, laughing as I squeal with excitement.
When he sets me on my feet, I lean into him. The solid wall of his chest keeps me steady, calming my nerves. He’s home. Here, in his arms, I have everything I need.
I want to kiss him, shove him to the ground, and ride his cock on the dance floor in the middle of the forest, but…the future. There are still questions that need answering.
“What if I die and my ghost doesn’t come back here?” I ask, articulating a fear that was shoved down so deep beneath all the other shit that I didn’t realize how strong it was. “What if we aren’t reunited in death?”
He presses a soft kiss to my cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Then I will pay every last cent I have to the witch who swears to bring you back to me, in my arms, where you belong.”
He makes it sound so easy. I wish I felt as sure as he does.
“If that doesn’t work?”
“Sweetheart, it will,” he says, cupping my cheek. “Do you know how I know?”
“How?”
“Because I won’t stop searching for you until I find you. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. Until the sun burns out and the world is bathed in darkness.
“Luckily, it won’t take that long. We will find each other again just like we did this time, because this is how our stories were always supposed to end. You and me. I’m keeping you for the rest of time, Natalie. I will not accept anything less.”
The reverence in his gaze, the tenderness in his touch, I let them draw me in until our lips meet. It begins softer than it ever has, with feather-light kisses, quick pecks and brushes of our mouths together. His embrace is cold, but it doesn’t matter because I’ve never felt warmer or more at ease. It’s like our bodies recognize, at the same exact moment, when we decide that there will be no more hiding our feelings. His tongue swipes against the seam of my lips, seeking entry, but also forgiveness, trust, and faith that I’ll give it all right back to him. And I do.
