I believe it. It sings from every fiber, every cell of my being. I deserve goodness in my life. I deserve the Sanderson life. I am worthy of a love like Kate’s.
I crush my mouth to hers with a searing promise. With every press of my lips, I mold another scene of our future together. Lazy Saturday mornings. Blisteringly passionate nights. A household so full of love and dark-haired, sticky children that we will never be bored a day in our lives.
Kate is breathless by the time I break the kiss. Her strawberry lips are swollen, her expression dazed.
A tiny smirk teases the corner of my mouth.
“In case you didn’t get that,” I say, sweeping a long strand of hair back and tucking it behind her flushed cheeks, “that means I love you too, Kate.”
Her expression is nothing short of rapture. A glow of a woman loved.
I drag whispering kisses across every inch of her face, her forehead, her eyelids, the corner of that sassy mouth of hers. The words I utter as I go are meant for her ears only.
Declarations of love. Vows of adoration for years to come.
Kate trembles beneath the weight of my affection. Her hands cling to my shoulders, my pecs, my waist. I’m never letting this woman walk away again, and I’m going to kiss her senseless until she knows it.
The sound of chuckling wafts from the nurse’s station, and I turn to find the cream-skinned woman from Mom’s room surrounded byother amused staff. One man gives a wolf-whistle, and Mom’s nurse calls, “Go get a room, you newlyweds!”
I laugh at Kate’s blushing cheeks, tugging her against me and tucking her away.
“Don’t you worry,” I say. “My bride and I will be getting a room in no time.”
Kate swats my chest with a laugh, but her eyes are shining.
Not going to lie, picturing her in a sleek white gown does something primal to my blood. I scoop her up, groom-style, as I stand. Tuck’s baggy UIC hoodie puddles around her, almost matching the same shade of the splotches high on her cheeks.
“Come on,my wife,” I murmur against her ear. “I’m getting you home.”
The nurses cheer as we pass, but it’s probably part relief because Kate is finally leaving. She must sense this too, because she points a finger at them with her final threat.
“You better take care of my mother-in-law until myhusbandgets back!”
A possessive growl emanates from my throat at her so publicly declaring me hers, and I have half a mind to make a pit stop in one of these supply closets.
“Cut it out, or I may actually have to put a ring on your finger,” I mutter.
Her challenging gaze meets mine and she smirks. “Make me.”
I shut her up with a quick kiss, and she dangles from my cradled arms the whole way to the parking lot, laughing the entire time.
forty-six
PRESENT DAY
KATE
Iascend the museum steps, checking my text messages. I click on Liza’s thread. My stomach turns over as I scan the one-sided text bubbles.
KATE: Liza, I’m so sorry about what I said. It’s none of my business what you do or don’t do with Mom, Cam, or your life. Please, can we talk?
KATE: Passed Towne Theater on my way to work today and thought of you. They’re playing Flirts and Fools next week. Go with me? I’ll bring the snacks.
KATE: Amantha’s mural exhibition is next Friday. I probably know the answer to this, but will you come? I’m really proud of it, and I think you’d enjoy it.
I force the lump of emotion from my throat. I don’t know why I thought she’d respond, since she hasn’t for the last month or so. Still, the longing for my sister is raw.
I have no choice but to raise my chin.
