I looked up at him, wide eyed, barely believing what I was hearing.
“Really?” I asked.
Kit didn’t punch people in the face. Kit apologized to lampposts he’d run into. Kit saidhello mister snailwhen he ran across one in the street and went out of his way not to step on them.
“I would argue that he very much had it coming,” Kit said, biting his lip.
“No argument there,” I said. “I’m surprised he doesn’t get punched in the face more often. It’syoupunching him I’m struggling with.”
“I’ve never punched anyone before,” Kit admitted, looking down at the hand I was still holding. “But he hurtyou. And you… I love you. So much.”
He did. I hadn’t been in doubt before, but this proved it more than anything else could have.
Giving up the title was as much for him as it was for me—he’d been scared of what it’d mean for him, and I was glad that weight was off his shoulders now. I couldn’t wait to watch him bloom into the incredible man I always got to see, but that he didn’t so much show to the world.
Punching a duke in the face, though? That was for me.
“Are you a fugitive now?” I teased. “Should I be watching for cops?”
“Will is smart enough not to say anything, but even if hedid, no police officer with their mind on their career would agree to arrest the Duke of Hartsworth,” Kit smiled wryly. “Father kicked him out of the house.”
“Good.” I raised Kit’s hand up to kiss his sore, bruised knuckles, stopping when he winced. “Not making it better?”
“The sentiment is very much making it better,” he said. “I don’t mind the pain.”
“You whined for three days when you got a splinter off that park bench in the summer.”
“And I will never forgive the bench,” Kit agreed. “But this was much more satisfying. And for you. And I would endure agonies much greater for your sake.”
Just like that, whatever was left of my anger and uncertainty melted away.
I kissed the side of his hand where I figured it’d hurt less, smiling at him.
“You were saying you wanted to continue elsewhere?” I asked.
“Yes, well. I umm. Took the liberty of switching our seats to business class,” Kit said. “While Stanley was driving. I called personally and everything.”
“Youmade a phone call? To a stranger?” I asked, staring openly at him. “Who are you, and what have you done with Kit?”
“Well, that was also for you,” Kit said. “It’s very much easier to do things for you.”
I sighed.
How could I ever have lived without this incredible, impossible man by my side?
“You know I love you?” I asked, collecting my flight bag and taking his other hand.
“Well, I’d certainly like to think you did.” Kit smiled a tiny, shy little smile as he tugged me toward the business class lounge. “Can’t imagine why else you’d put up with me.”
I snorted. “Well, you are buying me pizza from now on,” I said.
“Every Friday night,” Kit promised. “For the rest of our lives.”
