“Forever, Ada,” he murmured. “This lasts forever. I love you, if you haven’t figured that out yet. I am in love with you. I have been for almost as long as I’ve known you. I loved you through being an asshole. I loved you through you knowing and treating me like an asshole. I loved you through figuring my shit out. And I love you still.” He swallowed, and his gaze intensified. “I will live my whole life loving you if you let me.”
I nodded. Tears started falling again. And I tried not to hate him because we were currently confessing our love to each other, but the waterworks were consistently his fault.
“Yes,” I begged, pleaded, commanded. “Yes, I’ll let you. I love you too. I don’t know when it happened or how it happened. But dammit, it did happen.” I sniffled. He hugged me closer. “And it’s the best thing that has happened to me.”
He kissed me then. In a way that he had never kissed me before because his lips had just confessed love. They’d promised forever. They’d given me a future I wanted but hadn’t known to ask for.
It was different from when we’d throw caution to the wind when we were younger. It was different from recently, when we were testing the waters and seeing how close we could get without spooking the other.
This was the kiss of permanent, solid, eternal things. The kind of kiss that promised there would be hard moments and good moments and growth moments, but in the end, it would always lead us back to a whole, infinite kind of happiness.
Because that was what Charlie was to me. He was my pursuit of happiness. My life worth living. My whole heart.
And I was that safe, gentle landing place for him too.
It wouldn’t be perfect. Could never be perfect. But it was beautiful. He was beautiful. And together we would create a life that was beautiful.
We fell together onto my bed and got lost in all the ways we could bring each other bliss. And then, when it was over, and my body was weak from release and joy and the long day, I crawled into his arms and let him hold me.
And I knew I would end every long day like this for the rest of my hard, happy, beautiful life.
twenty
The following Wednesday,I braced myself for work. Over the past week, Charlie and I enjoyed running the show by ourselves. Will had taken several weeks off to stay at home with Lola and baby Eloise, and Jonah and Eliza had been gone over the weekend for their trip to Charleston.
We made a fantastic pair. I couldn’t remember the bar ever running this smoothly before. In fact, the atmosphere had gotten so chill that Ally recruited two of her college friends. Our waitstaff roster was starting to fill out. I’d conducted both interviews yesterday, and both ladies had been on time and seemed competent.
The optimistic side of my brain—which was admittedly small and only barely fit the description—had started to realize if these girls worked out, I might be able to get out of waitressing a few nights a week.
I could fill more of a manager role. I could do the job the English siblings had hired and paid me for. I could focus on the second location without feeling so overwhelmed I wanted to puke.
I didn’t want to say that love healed everything because that was terribly cheesy, and I was nothing if not stanchly anti-cheese, but when it came to this family... love had healed a lot of festering wounds.
These three siblings weren’t the same people who opened this bar. They’d grown up over the years, fallen in love, softened, found new priorities, and learned to stay out of each other’s way. I wasn’t so naive to believe they’d never have problems again, but for the first time since I’d started working here, Craft felt like a positive work environment.
Now I just had to fix things with Eliza. We hadn’t spoken since our whisper fight in the maternity ward. I cringed every time I thought about it. Eliza and I had never gotten in a fight before. Never really disagreed about anything.
There had been times when I’d stepped between her and one of her brothers, but she’d always understood why I was willing to throw myself between their punches. And she’d never gotten mad at me.
Charlie was at the bar when I walked out of the kitchen. We were the first ones here. He’d texted to let me know exactly where he’d be so he didn’t accidentally scare the bejeezus out of me.
Sure, he was being one hundred percent sarcastic, and I could already tell he was full of the devil tonight, but I couldn’t help but smile anyway.
I liked when he was mischievous. I liked when he teased me. I liked when his flirty barbs turned to bedroom eyes and secret smiles and then became something hot and naked and just the two of us.
I hoped he always flirted with me like this.
“Hey,” he said with one of those just-for-me smirks.
I walked right up to him and threw my arms around his neck. He’d slept over last night, and we’d only been apart for an hour or so, but the hug felt necessary. So did the subsequent kisses. And the lip biting. And the boob grab he snuck in.
“You’re beautiful tonight,” he murmured.
I wasn’t wearing anything special—a black ruffly miniskirt and a black crop tank with a white collar. I looked like a goth tennis player, but I was living my Wednesday Addams era.
“You always say that,”I told him, fixing the collar to his shirt I’d just messed up.
His green eyes captured my gaze. “It’s always true.”
