"Your old coffee maker produced liquid that could strip paint. You're welcome."
I laugh against her mouth, and she laughs with me, and for a moment we're just two people ridiculous in love in the middle of a crowded bar on Valentine's Day.
"Dance with me." She pulls back, tugging at my hand. "I know you don't dance, but it's Valentine's Day and you just told me you're building us a house and I need to be vertical and touching you right now."
"Vertical seems negotiable."
"Later. Dance first."
I let her lead me to the small dance floor where a handful of other couples are swaying to something slow and romantic. She fits against me perfectly, her head on my chest, her body warm and familiar in my arms.
"One year ago," she murmurs against my shirt, "I walked into this bar convinced my life was falling apart."
"And now?"
"Now I know it wasn't falling apart. It was falling into place." She tilts her face up to look at me. "Everything that went wrong led me here. To you. To this."
"That's very philosophical for a woman who once threatened to murder me over the dishwasher."
"The dishwasher thing is a legitimate grievance and I stand by it."
I spin her in a clumsy turn that makes her laugh. "For the record, I walked into this bar one year ago convinced I was fine being alone forever."
"And now?"
"Now I can't imagine my life without you in it. Can't remember what I did with all the silence before you filled it up with your opinions and your demands and your complete inability to let me win an argument."
"I let you win arguments."
"You let me think I've won arguments. Big difference."
She grins up at me, unrepentant. "You're learning."
The song ends, but we keep swaying. Around us, life continues. Silas pours drinks and makes small talk. Couples celebrate their love in a dozen different ways. The town we've built our life in hums with the same warmth and nostalgia that made me stay all those years ago.
But now it's not just my town. It's ours.
"I want to go home." Nadia's voice drops lower, her fingers tracing patterns on the back of my neck. "I want you to take me to that playroom and remind me who I belong to."
Heat flares in my chest. "What happened to celebrating Valentine's Day properly?"
"This is proper. This is the most proper thing I can think of." She rises on her toes to whisper in my ear. "Take me home, sir. I've been a very good girl all year and I think I deserve a reward."
I pull back to look at her, this woman who crashed into my life and refused to leave. Who pushed and tested and fought me every step of the way until I proved I could hold on. Who wears my key around her neck and will soon have a home I built for her and might someday, if I'm very lucky, wear my ring on her finger.
"Let's go home."
We settle the tab and wave goodbye to Silas, who gives me a knowing look that I studiously ignore. Nadia's hand rests on my thigh the whole way, warm and steady.
When we pull into the garage, she's out of the truck before I've even cut the engine. I catch up to her at the door, pressing her against the frame with my body.
"In a hurry?"
"I've been thinking about this all day." She arches against me. "All through Flynn's spreadsheets. All through getting dressed. All through making myself fifteen minutes late just to watch you scowl at your phone."
"You were late on purpose?"
"Anticipation is half the fun." She nips at my jaw. "Now stop talking and take me inside."
