“Yeah, baby,” I whisper back. “Home.”
“I’ve dreamed of this for years,” she says softly. “I just knew, deep down in my soul, that we were meant to be together.”
I shake my head slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’m the one who took years to figure it out,” I admit.
Her fingers slide into mine.
“Better late than never,” she smiles.
I squeeze her hand gently.
“You know,” I murmur, “most people would probably run in the opposite direction after everything I put you through.”
“Most people aren’t me,” she says.
“True.”
“And most men aren’t you.”
I huff out a quiet laugh.
“Baby, I’ve got a list of sins long enough to keep a preacher busy for a month.”
Her eyes soften.
“But you also have a heart big enough to carry everyone you love on it,” she says. “Even when it hurts you to do it.”
That one hits me square in the chest.
She glances toward my house, then back at me.
“So… this is really happening?”
“It is.”
“And you’re not going to wake up tomorrow and panic about it?”
“Too late for that,” I chuckle. “Already panicked about it for the past seven years.”
She laughs softly.
“Good.”
Then she leans closer, resting her head against my chest, and my arms wrap around her automatically.
“Because I’m not letting you run away from me again,” she murmurs.
I press a kiss to the top of her head.
“No more running,” I murmur against her hair. “Now come on. Let’s go home. I want to show you my cooking skills.”
“Oh, please no,” she laughs. “I’ve tasted your cooking. I’ll pass.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “But I can make a mean bowl of cereal.”
Her laughter wraps around us as we walk slowly across the compound toward my house.
