“No fucking shit!” She flinches, like the words physically hurt her, and I take another calming breath. She doesn’t need me shouting at her.
Crossing the room, I drop to my knees in front of her and take the coffee cup from her hand. She tucks her tremblinghands into the sleeves of her sweatshirt then wipes the tears from her cheeks, biting her lip nervously and refusing to look at me. Hooking a finger under her chin, I force her eyes to mine.
“You’re the love of my goddamn life, Taylor.”
I can’t imagine what’s going through her head right now, what’s been going through her head all these years. To silently fight this disease—this battle—by herself. The tears I’ve been holding back fall. She starts to shake her head, so I palm the back of her neck and bring my forehead to hers.
Leaning back, I grip her hands and beg for her to really hear me. “A life without you in it is one thousand times worse. That dream for a family? For kids? It only worked if you were in it.”
“What are you saying?” She sniffles.
“I chooseyou. Over everything. I chose you on that beach when we said our vows. I chose you when you mailed me divorce papers. I chose you when you refused to answer my calls. I chose you with every single breath and thought and action ever since. I chose you when my phone randomly rang three years ago when you finally called only to ask for a favor.”
“Technically, it’s not a favor if I own half,” she smarts. A small smile finally touches her lips.
I smirk. There she is. Snarky as ever.
“I choose you. Always you.” I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “Only you.” Flipping it over, I kiss her palm like I used to do when we were together. Then each finger. She sucks in a breath as tears fall down her cheeks. “It’s always been you, Tay baby.”
“I don’t deserve you,” she cries. I frame her face with my hands and wipe the tears from her beautiful cheeks. I’ve dreamt of this face more than anything else. Taylor Baker has been my first, my always, my forever.
“What if I deserve you? Or better yet, we stop the narrative all together. It’s not about being worthy of each other. It’s just us. You and me. None of the outside noise. You’re worthy of anything and everything good in this world. I could have donemore. Been better. Fought harder. I never got over you. I never will.”
“You know, part of me was happy you wouldn’t sign those divorce papers, and that you never did. It’s why I stopped sending them and stopped asking. I think a small part of me was hopeful that we could find our way back.”
I kiss her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead. “More than a small part of me knew we would. That we will.”
“I’m so sorry, Grant.” She clutches my shirt, dragging me off the floor. Picking her up, I sit her in my lap and hold her close.
“I am too.”
Taylor peers up at me through her wet lashes. “Can I move in for real?”
“Only if it means you’re in my bed every night and in my arms every morning when I wake up.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be.” She seals her promise with a kiss. It’s a homecoming. A reunion. A vow to stay.
“Hey.” Grant’s voice jostles me from my dozing. After spilling my secrets and all my tears, I’m emotionally spent.
“Let’s go lie down. I didn’t sleep well last night, and it seems like you didn’t either.” He continues stroking my leg and presses a kiss to my temple.
I give him the best side eye I can manage at the moment. “Are you saying I look bad?”
“You could never look bad to me.”
“A nap sounds great.” I run my fingers through his messy hair.
“Hold tight.”
“Wha—” My words are cut off as he stands swiftly from the couch with me in his arms, my arms instinctively winding around his neck. He effortlessly carries me to his bedroom at the end of the hall. Instead of setting me down, he moves to his side of the bed, pulls the covers back with one hand, and then lays me in the bed, climbing in behind me.
I roll over to face him and tug at his white T-shirt. “Can you take your shirt off?”
“Tay, I just want to hold you.” He smooths a hand down my cheek.
“I need to feel you.” Running my palm under the hem of his shirt, I push it up and relish in the warmth of his skin on mine.
When he sits up and pulls the fabric over his head, I feel his abs engage and holy shit this man’s body is still ripped. I take inthe ridges of his muscles and his broad chest with a smattering of dark hair, and there, glowing against his tanned skin sits his wedding band on the gold chain.
