“I want to take my time with you,” she murmured, voice sweet but dangerous. “That alright?”
“More than alright,” I said, holding her gaze. She pulled her sundress over her head, removed her panties, and climbed on top of me.
Solè eased down on me with slow, deliberate confidence, and my breath broke like I’d been holding it all day. A sound slipped out of me as I kissed her neck, arms locking around her like instinct, like she was the only thing keeping me anchored. She moved with a steady rhythm, unhurried at first, then deeper and surer until the room felt too small for all that heat and all that feeling.
“You like that?” she whispered.
I kissed her and answered against her skin, honest and low. “I love you like this.”
She shuddered, tightening around the moment, moving with a boldness that made my breath catch. I held her close, firm at her hips, feeling her respond to my touch like her body was speaking back in its own language.
She cried out as the pleasure overtook her, and she fell apart in my arms before I followed.
“I love you,” she whispered.
I kissed her temple. “I love you more.”
She melted against my chest, breathing softly, body loose, while I rubbed slow circles along her back. My heart was calmer than it had any right to be. Peace sat on me like it belonged.
Afterward, we reset the room, took a quick shower, and curled back into bed. I pulled her close, tracing her freckles with gentle fingers, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Connie,” I murmured, “your birthday’s coming up. What you want, mama?”
She hesitated. “You’re going to think it’s silly . . . That I’m being a big baby.”
I lifted her chin and brushed my thumb along her cheek. “My Constellation, I don’t play with you or your feelings,” I murmured. “I’m locked in. Talk to me, love.”
Her voice came out small. “NanNan is sicker than she’s been letting on. She doesn’t want a fuss, . . . but I don’t know how much time she has. And if that thing you always say is real, about me being your wife, I just want her to witness it.”
Her eyes glassed over, and something in my chest cracked. That was her only blood left, her anchor, and I hated how helpless love could feel when it met a clock you couldn’t stop. I held her face like I could steady the world with my hands.
“First,” I said softly, “I wasn’t joking about marrying you. I knew you were my wife the first time I watched you move through The Pour House. You were graceful and giving. You took care of everybody, and still made room for those kids. That’s who you are.”
I kissed her forehead, as gentle as a vow. “What if I told you I already talked to Nan about seeing you married?”
Her breath hitched. She nodded, and I pulled her into me, holding her like shelter.
While she drifted off against my chest, peaceful and trusting, my mind went quiet and decisive. The plans were already liningup like dominoes. I didn’t need chaos; I needed timing. I didn’t need permission from the world. I needed one thing from her.
Heryes.
NanNan’s voicehad carried just enough strain to tighten my chest. “Baby, . . . I’m not feeling good. Mel dropped me off somewhere, and I don’t think I should be alone.”
“Where you at?” I asked, already sliding my shoes on. I stayed on the phone with her to settle my nerves and hers.
She gave me the address. I pulled up and blinked at the sign—a spa. My brows knit. “NanNan, . . . this isn’t a doctor.”
Before she could answer, Mel yanked my car door open like she owned the hinges. “Get out,” she said, smiling way too hard.
“Mel—”
NanNan stepped into view, standing tall, eyes bright, not sick at all, laughing before I could catch my breath. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said. “But your man told me I had to lie.”
“My man?” I whispered, the words turning to ice and butterflies at once.
Mel pressed a folded, cream-colored note into my palm. Roman’s handwriting stared up at me. And as I opened it, my stomach dropped, like my life knew a turn was coming.
Clue One
