“Yeah.”
“Work tomorrow,” he says.
“Yeah,” I say again. “Back to reality.”
I want him to stay. But then what? I also need him to go.
We walk toward the front door. A hundred questions swirl through my head. My body feels too awake, buzzing with the new awareness of him. How will I sleep?
“Thank you, again,” he says.
For dinner, I think that’s what he means. But maybe more.
“You’re welcome. Thanks for bringing ice cream and those cookies. You bake a mean chocolate chip.”
He smiles at me. We’re going through the motions on the surface, but something in his eyes tells me he’s right there with me, wondering about the years we were apart—and maybe about what’s next now that we’ve found one another again.
He goes to open the door and I step closer, unable to keep myself from drawing him into a hug. We’re not Lieutenant Greyson Stone and Rookie Firefighter Hallie Collins. For a moment, we’re Ace and Hallie, reunited under the most unexpected circumstances.
He pulls me in, tucking my head under his chin. His heart beats steady under my cheek. We hold on to one another, lingering. His stubble catches in my hair. He’s all man now. Muscles and hard edges. But he smells the same. I turn off the voices in my head and allow myself one brief, indulgent moment where I sink into his embrace. He holds me and time stills. With a single squeeze, he steps back.
“Good night, Hallie.”
“Good night … Ace.”
He smiles at me. Something wistful crosses his eyes. I want to ask him what it is, but I know he needs to leave. I need him to.
I step onto the front porch and watch as he climbs into his Jeep and drives away.
Tomorrow, I’ll see him at work.
The soldier who stole my heart over the course of one night in Munich.
Nine Years Ago: Munich, Germany
Hallie
I was floating on air by the time we left the bakery.
Maybe I should have been more cautious, but something about Ace made me feel safer than I ever had—and free. We were just two strangers who happened to collide after dark in Munich. He made me laugh. Every single thing I suggested became his personal mission. He was smart, funny and thoughtful.
So, when we stepped outside the bakery and he looked down at me with those crystalline blue eyes, I didn’t flinch.
And when he confessed, “I want to kiss you,” I smiled up at him and said, “Then you should.”
A warmth spread through me—the way he smiled and brushed my hair back over my shoulder, placing his palm at the back of my neck. Then he leaned in and kissed my lips. It was just the faintest brush of skin to skin.
I was still gripping my to-go cup and the bag with our pastries. He still had his cup in his other hand.
That barely-there kiss made my knees wobble. Ace stepped back and I lost my footing on the cobblestone, nearly spilling my cocoa. We both burst into peals of laughter thatrang into the night, the echo off the surrounding buildings and street making it sound louder than it really was.
I raised my finger to my lips, glancing up at Ace, and said, “Bitte seien Sie ruhig,” which means,Please be quiet, in German. Ace laughed harder and said, “Entschuldigung, Fräulein,”Excuse me, miss, just like he had shouted up to the old woman on the balcony.
We laughed together—sharing a private joke as if the world would always be ours for the taking.
And then Ace put his hand on my back as we wandered the streets. He wasn’t trying to cross a line. His touch felt natural, like I’d been waiting all my life to find him here, a whole continent away from home, and that spot on my back had been saved for his palm alone.
“I think there’s a botanical garden near here,” I told him, resisting the urge to draw closer to him as we walked.
