“Clover—”
“I’m not done.” I take half a step back but keep our hands connected. “I love you. Present tense. Not because of who you were when we were children, but because of who you are now. The man who came back. The man who decorated this entire porch and drew a honeybee that looks like it was made by a first grader.”
He huffs a laugh through his nose. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s terrible.” I smile, forcing the sadness away. “And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I want you to know,” he says softly, “that I remember us. What we could have been, but I also recognize what we’ll become in the future. I’ll never walk away from you again, Clover. I promise you.”
I trace the lines of exhaustion under his eyes. “I know,” I whisper. “I’ve always known. Even when you didn’t.”
“What happens now?” he asks.
“You kiss the girl,” Agnes hollers from the side of the house.
He lifts his brow, and I crack a smile while whistles and cheers break out on the sidelines.
“Now,” I say, “you kiss the girl, and then we figure the rest out together.”
“Together,” he repeats, as if he’s testing the word, while leaning closer.
“Mm-hmm.” My lashes flutter, and my lips part.
But instead of waiting for him to kiss me, I launch myself into the air, confident that he’ll catch me, and press my mouth to his.
I’m done waiting for what I want, and I offer no apologies for it.
And this kiss is different. It’s not the desperate or hungry ones that felt like we had something to prove. This kiss is slow. Soft. Intentional—like we have all the time in the world.
Our eavesdroppers are all but forgotten when he holds me to him, my legs wrapped around his waist. I can feel his heart syncing to mine, steady and strong.
All those years I spent wondering if it was still beating at all.
And here, in this moment, we hand ourselves over to the only thing we’ve ever truly wanted—love.
Before he can deepen the kiss, I pat his chest. “We have an audience.”
“I know,” he says. “I can see Agnes poking Sterling in the chest. We should probably go ho?—”
I groan before he can finish that sentence. “Chief showed you the blueprints, didn’t he?” When I wiggle, Valen slowly lowers me to my feet.
“How did you know that?”
“The text tree has no secrets.” I grin. “Also, on the drive home, Savvy tried to sell me her half for two hundred dollars, but I want you to know that I refused her offer. I can’t afford to buy her out right now. Writing has been…hard lately, and she put a lot of work into her home. She deserves to get what it’s worth.”
“Agreed,” Valen says. “And she’ll get fair market value, but I think you’re forgetting something.”
“What?” I frown. I’m so tired, I’m sure there’s a whole laundry list of things I’m forgetting.
“Well, for starters, I’m a Harrington heir. I have more money than we could ever spend.”
I’m shaking my head before he even finishes his sentence.
“And more importantly,” he says as our family starts to join us. “You, Clover, are the O’Connell heir. You also have more money than you could ever spend in a lifetime. Billions, to be exact.”
“Holy fuck.” Savvy swats Greyson’s hands away from her when he tries to help her into her wheelchair. “How many damn billionaires can we have in one tiny town?”
“No,” I say. Agent Lamott’s words are coming back to me now, but I’m still unsure of how to feel about it. “That’s. No. I can’t even write O’Connell in cursive. There’s no way I could ever sign a check with their money.”
