He slid his hand into my hair, angling my head exactly where he wanted it. All gentle while his mouth was anything but. He kissed me like he’d memorized every argument we’d had and decided to erase them all with his lips.
I opened for him and he took immediate advantage. His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting, claiming, making my knees weak and my head spin. I gripped his shirt with both hands because I needed something to hold onto and he was the only solid thing in the room.
His teeth caught my bottom lip hard enough to make me gasp. He traced where his teeth had been with his tongue and heat flooded through me, pooling low in my belly.
He pulled back, breathless, resting his forehead against mine.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi.” I couldn’t stop smiling. My face actually hurt from it. “I love you.”
The admission felt like jumping off a cliff. Terrifying and necessary.
His eyes locked on mine. “Say that again.”
“I love you.”
“God, Vi.” His voice cracked. “I love you too. I love your courage and your loyalty and the way you fight for the people who matter to you like nothing else exists. I love that you survived years of your father’s control and came out stronger instead of broken. I love that you looked at me holding Hazel for the first time and saw a father instead of a disaster. And I love that you’re here forgiving me when you have every right to tell me to go to hell.”
“I considered it.”
“I know.” He kissed my forehead. “That’s why I groveled.”
I laughed, the sound wet with happy tears. Then I wrinkled my nose, finally registering the scent of champagne, sweat, and race fuel clinging to him.
“You smell terrible, by the way.”
He grinned. “Still love me?”
I smiled. “Comes with the territory.”
“Ambushing me post-race means you get the full experience.”
I rolled my eyes. “You kissed me, idiot.”
“And you participated enthusiastically.”
“Shut up.”
He glanced at the cot. “I don’t smell bad, do I, Hazelnut?”
Hazel let out a soft, sleeping puff of air.
“See?” He smirked at me. “No complaints.”
“She’s asleep, Griffin.” I rolled my eyes. “She’s a terrible witness.”
“She’s a loyal witness. That’s what counts.”
“Go shower.” I pushed at his chest. “Then come back and kiss me again.”
“Bossy.” He kissed me quickly, ignoring my protest. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised.
He grinned and headed for the bathroom, peeling his shirt off as he went.
I watched him go, the muscles of his back flexing as he tossed the shirt aside. My heart was fuller than I thought possible. My father’s grip was broken. Griffin was safe. Hazel was safe.
