He chuckles, curious. “What?”
“I drew us getting married that night. After you left. I put a veil on my dress and a ring on my finger. I wasten.”
James laughs, the sound echoing in my own chest. “If you'd shown me, I would have run screaming in the other direction.”
I sniff and wipe my nose, trying to get control of this swelling feeling in my chest that makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time.
“Afraid of cooties?” I challenge.
“Definitely. Who wouldn’t be terrified of unresearched diseases with no known cure?”
I laugh through my tears, and then I'm kissing him, kissing the boy who brought me cake when I was lonely, who looked at my art like it mattered, who has somehow become the man holding me like I'm the most precious thing in the world.
“Your mother,” I whisper against his lips. “She was so beautiful. And your father—the way he looked at her?—”
“Like she was his whole world,” James finishes.
“I’m so sorry for what happened to them.”
I wrap my arms around his waist, burying my head in his chest and inhaling his familiar scent.
“I never thought I would find someone to love how they loved each other. I think they’d be proud…and I think—I think they would have loved you.”
My eyes burn and I wish so badly that I could’ve met them properly, but I’ll always have that small memory of his mother and her warmth. It’s a huge part of what always compelled me to want to become a mother myself.
“You have no idea how much it meant to me to hear you say ‘my wife’ like that. Like I’m something precious and important.”
“Someone,” he corrects, and I smile.
“Someone,” I agree.
“My schedule for tomorrow will change,” he says absently, his thumb tracing the back of my neck. “I’ve got meetings with my lawyer to rewrite the contract. It might take some time to divulge Sequel’s interests from Pages. There might be some late nights.”
“How much will it cost you to get out of it?” My father might not have mentored me in business, but I’ve spent enough time listening to him rant on the phone to know that getting out of big deals like this is expensive for both parties.
“It doesn't matter,” James says. “I'm prepared to take a financial hit if it means keeping Victor away from us and our baby.”
I blink up at him. “I missed you,” I murmur. “Not just your protections or your plans, but you.”
A smile breaks across his face, wider than I've ever seen on him, and I can't help myself. I push up on my toes and kiss him. His lips press softly and reverently back against mine in a gentle caress. My chest blooms with joy and wonder and, most of all, hope—hope for a future full of warmth and love.
James’s lips part, and I can’t resist sweeping my tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. His hard body presses flush to mine as his broad hands cradle my face like he’s protecting it. My back arches, pressing my breasts harder against him and he breaks away.
“Wait, Maura.” His voice sounds rough. “Are you ready for this? I don’t want to hurt you, after?—”
“James.” I press my hand to his heart. “I don’t want to feel breakable with you. It makes me feel like you’re holding back.”
He ducks his head, a dark furrow between his brows. “I know. It’s just, I remember the way you looked on that hike, before you collapsed. I know with your condition, things might happen. I just—I never want to be the cause of it.”
“I know. But I promise to tell you if you ever do anything that’s too much—now, or any time in the future. I’ll be honest. I swear.”
“I believe you.” His lips raise into almost a smile as his eyes flit over my eyes, my nose, my mouth, like he’s trying tomemorize my face. “I don’t want to hold back with you, ever. Sometimes, I’m just afraid that I want you too much.”
He trails the backs of his fingers up my neck, making me sigh.
“It’s not too much, James,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around his neck. “It’s everything I want.”
His hand weaves into my loose hair and he pulls my mouth slowly to his. The kiss is soft and open, and I can feel the tender care in it. We’ve never kissed like this before—or maybe we have, but I was too afraid to acknowledge how it felt.
