Braxton completesan entire circuit of the rink without falling before he begs for mercy, claiming that he can no longer feel his ass. We recover at a nearby pizza place before making the drive back to Sterling Creek, his fingers threaded through mine and resting on my thigh the entire way.
When he pulls the truck into my driveway, he gets out without a word. I watch as he rounds the hood, mouth set in determination as he yanks open my door and reaches in to unclip my belt. I wait for him to step back so I can get out, but he just yanks at my thighs, turning me in the seat and stepping between my legs.
“What—”
Braxton cups my cheeks in his hands. “Thank you for today. I know it probably wasn’t what you expected.”
“It was perfect,” I say, meaning every word. “I had a great time. It’s more fun than I’ve had in ages.”
That brings a contrasting mix of emotions to Braxton’s green eyes—relief, happiness, and remorse. “I’m glad.” He strokes his thumb over my cheekbone. “I would’ve been happy doing anything just as long as I got to spend the day with you.”
I reach out, scratching my nails against the scruff of his jaw. “I’m sure you were never this cheesy a few months ago. Have you been abducted by pod people?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “No. I’ve been takingserial killer classes. They told me I need to do better at fitting in. Otherwise, my victims will never climb into the suitcase on their own.”
I stifle a laugh. “I knew it! Once a serial killer, always a serial killer.”
Braxton gives me a mock-serious look. “How else will I keep you forever?”
I don’t look away. “I can think of a few ways.” There’s a weighty pause before I ask, “Do you want to come inside?”
Braxton doesn’t move for several seconds. It doesn’t even look like he’s breathing. “I want to,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, “but I’m not rushing this.”
The rejection stings, but I don’t let it consume me, thinking past that initial hurt to the intention behind his choice. “You’re worried I’m not fully in yet,” I guess.
“I think you’re still considering what our future looks like, and it’s firmly in your hands. I’m not rushing that decision, Gracie. I told you, I’m fighting for us, and I’m in it for life. There’s no one else for me but you.”
“Braxton—”
“No. You’re not there yet, and that’s okay. Gracie,it’s okay. I broke your trust. I don’t want to hold on to the past, but I’m also not going to pretend it didn’t happen.” He sucks in a breath, his eyes falling closed. “I lied to you. If we want to work past that and everything that’s happened since…” He swallows roughly, his throat bobbing. “I’m not rushing this. I’m fighting for keeps, which means waiting until you know for sure that your future lies with me, because I know mine lies with you.”
My heart lurches, skipping a beat and then jumping into a too-fast rhythm. Braxton searches my face, before nodding.
“I’m going to walk you to your door,” he tells me, almost in warning. “I’m going to kiss you. A lot. It’ll shockthe neighbors.” A startled laugh escapes me, and his eyes soften. “And then I’m going to drive home and have a really fucking long cold shower.”
I nod. “Okay.”
Braxton seems shocked at my agreement, echoing, “Okay?”
“It makes sense,” I explain. “It hurts a little”—I hold my thumb and pointer finger up, a small gap between them—“but you’re making sense.”
“You don’t need to sound so surprised,” he says dryly. “Sometimes I make sense.”
I lift a shoulder. “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
Braxton smiles, watching me closely, but then it falls away. “I love you, Gracie.”
My mouth parts on a sharp inhale, my vision watery as I stare up at him. It’s been so long since I’ve heard those words—well over half a year—and I wasn’t sure if they were something I would ever hear again. My lips tremble, and Braxton swipes his thumb over my cheekbone, brushing away a tear.
“Don’t cry, Rumpel. I didn’t tell you to make you cry.” He presses his forehead to mine. “And I don’t expect you to say it back. In fact, I don’t want you to say it back.”
“You don’t?” I whisper, voice cracking.
“No.” Braxton’s smile is small, crooked. “You can tell me you love me when you decide on us. That’s when I want to hear those words again…When it means that you know for sure our future—our family—is together.”
“Okay,” I say quietly, a promise. Braxton steps back, but I surprise him by lunging forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and dragging him to me. Our mouths meet, and he groans, his hands sliding into my hair and holding me still as his tongue plunders into my mouth, sensually stroking against mine.
It feels so familiar, his woodsy scent filling my lungs, hischest brushing against mine, the way it feels like my world is finally centered after being off-kilter for so long.
