“I love you too, darlin’,” I say, voice hoarse as I pull her into my arms.
She doesn’t pull away.
She melts into me like she’s come home.
The rest, well, it can wait ‘til morning.
But she doesn’t let me pull back.
She took my hand in hers, her touch both gentle and firm, the heat of her palm searing into my skin like a brand I never wanted to fade.
She led me up the stairs, the pads of her fingers lightly tracing along the back of my hand with each step, grounding me with that small, electrifying contact.
The ascent was slow, deliberate, as if each footfall stitched us back together, thread by invisible thread.
The hardwood beneath our feet creaked softly, a lullaby of reunion, the only sound breaking the hush of the house save for the shared rhythm of our breathing, the tension humming between our bodies.
When we reached the bedroom, she turned to face me, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat.
She closed the door behind us, the soft click of the lock echoing like a promise. The sound sent a rush through me, a jolt of anticipation that tightened my chest and quickened my breath.
She’s not just here.
She’s mine.
And I’m going to spend the rest of the night with her in my arms.
Chapter twenty
Reunited for Good
Cash
Her fingers found the edge of my shirt, tugging me closer. Our lips met in a kiss that started tentative, hesitant, like we were testing the waters, like we were standing on the edge of something fragile.
A flicker of memory hit me then: the night she'd left, my hand reaching for hers and catching nothing but air. That sting lived in this hesitation, this breath we shared before diving in again. But the second I tasted her, the hunger I’d kept buried surged to the surface.
The kiss deepened, urgency replacing caution. Her mouth moved against mine with a familiarity that lit something deep inside me, a rush of heat and memory so sharp, I had to steady my breath.
The way her lips moved against mine stirred images of late nights on the porch swing, whispered laughter under the stars, and the hollow ache that followed when she disappeared.
It all came rushing back, tangled with need and a desperate, aching hope. Something I thought I’d lostthat felt both comforting and exhilarating.
I gripped her waist, my hands firm but careful. I didn’t want to spook her, not after everything. But as she sighed to my mouth, I felt the tension melt from her body. She was here, really here, and it felt like we’d both been holding our breath for years.
Every touch was instinct. My hands slid beneath her shirt, mapping her body, relearning every dip and swell, every freckle I trace like a map to someplace safe. Her nipples hard. She shivered under my fingers, her breath catching as I kissed my way down her neck.
She whispered my name, and damn if it didn’t ground me, a breathy echo that stirred something buried deep. For a split second, it reminded me of that summer night under the stars, when she’d looked at me like I was her whole world, before everything shattered. Now, that same look was back, and it nearly brought me to my knees.
We stripped away the layers between us, not rushed, but deliberate. Her shirt slipped off her shoulders, mine followed without a thought. The second our bare skin met, I felt like my tension finally went away.
I kissed her again, deeper, my tongue tangling with hers as if I could rewrite the past with the way I held her now. My hands roamed her back, drawing her in until there was no space left between us.
She pressed closer, fitting against me like she always had, perfectly. My lips found her collarbone, lingered in the hollow of her throat. Her breath came in fast little gasps, her eyes closed like she was riding a high she didn’t want to end.
Her heart thudded against mine. Same rhythm. Same need.
My hands found her sides, sliding down until I brushed the waistband of her jeans. She trembled, her grip tightening on my shoulders.
