Jake eased back against her. His hand found her hip. Drew slow circles on her skin with his thumb, the same absent pattern he'd traced on her back in the elevator, and Emily felt each circle like a sentence in a language she was learning to speak.
"Em."
"Yeah."
"That word you said. Four nights ago. When you were falling asleep."
Her heart stopped. Then restarted at a tempo that had nothing to do with recovery.
"You heard that," she said.
"I heard the beginning of it. You trailed off." His thumb kept drawing circles. Patient. "I've been carrying it around for four days like a live wire I couldn't put down."
Emily stared at the ceiling. The city light made patterns that meant nothing. She felt warm and her mind was the clearest it had been in years and the word he was asking about were sittingon the tip of her tongue like a bird ready to fly and she could feel it pressing against her lips.
"I love you," she said.
Not trailed off. Not caught between sleep and waking. Not whispered into a pillow she thought was empty. Said with her eyes open and his body still inside her and what those words meant from a woman who had never said them to anyone.
Jake lifted his head. Looked at her. His eyes were bright and his face was open and what she saw there was not surprise. It was recognition. The look of a man hearing what he'd already known confirmed by the only voice that could confirm it.
"I love you," he said. "I’m pretty sure I have since you looked at me in Ray's office. I have loved you since you laughed at the Range Rover story and I realized I'd do anything to hear that sound again. I have loved you since the night I tucked you in and stood in your doorway and almost said it and didn't because I was terrified it was too soon and I'd lose you."
"You couldn't lose me." Emily touched his face. The place where his smile started before it reached the rest of him. "You couldn't lose me if you tried."
Jake kissed her. Slow and deep and tasting like everything they'd said and everything they hadn't needed to. Then he shifted, rolling onto his back, pulling her with him, settling her against his chest the way he'd done on his couch except now there were no clothes and no pretense and no distance of any kind.
Emily lay against Jake Walsh in a bed she'd slept alone in for a year and listened to his heartbeat slow and felt his hand trace a path up and down her spine and understood that the word she'd been afraid of her entire adult life was the easiest word she'd ever said.
"Jake."
"Hmm."
"I'm going to need you to stay tonight."
"I’m not going anywhere." His arm tightened around her.
She pressed her face against his body and smiled and the smile was the real one, the one she'd been learning to wear since the night he'd called her Em, and outside the window Tampa hummed and the night held them and Emily Callahan fell asleep in Jake Walsh's arms knowing exactly where she was and exactly who she'd chosen to be there with.
She didn't dream. She didn't need to. The best thing she could imagine was already happening.
CHAPTER 17
Claire Harper was already at the table when the Range Rover pulled up. Emily could see her through the wrought-iron fence that bordered the patio, sitting beneath a canvas umbrella with two menus, a glass of water she hadn't touched, and a cappuccino she'd ordered for Emily. Watching the street.
Claire had texted her at seven-fourteen that morning.Brunch. Café Alma. 10am. Non-negotiable.Emily had replied with a single thumbs-up from Jake Walsh's chest while his hand traced circles on her bare shoulder and the morning came through the window like a gift she hadn't earned.
She hadn't wanted to leave that bed. Hadn't wanted to leave him. That was new.
Jake pulled the Range Rover to the curb. The Saturday morning traffic on Howard Avenue was light, the sidewalks filling with couples and dogs and people who looked like they'd slept well. Emily had slept well. Four hours, maybe five, and she felt more rested than she had in months.
Jake leaned forward and looked through her window. Claire was pretending to study her menu, which meant she'd been watching the Range Rover since it turned the corner.
"She looks like she has questions," he said.
"She has all the questions. Every question that exists."
"Should I be worried?"
