“Andrew,” he says, voice low and warm, like my name is something precious.
“Yeah?”
He kisses me, so full of feeling that my brain short-circuits for a second. When he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his eyes are soft in a way I’ve never seen before.
“I love you.”
My eyes go wide. I stare at him, heart slamming against my ribs. That is the absolute last thing I was expecting him to say. Ever.
“You do?” I whisper, voice cracking.
Slade nods, nuzzling his nose against mine in that stupidly lovesick way that makes my knees weak even though he’s holding me up. “Yeah, baby. I do.”
The grin that breaks across my face feels huge and unstoppable. “Well… good. ’Cause I love you too.”
He kisses me again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against mine like he’s sealing the words between us. When he finally pulls back, he’s still smiling.
“After we devour this food,” he murmurs against my lips, “I’m devouring you on the couch. And then we’re gonna watch that movie you won’t shut up about.”
I laugh, bright and happy. “Hey, Venom is a good movie. And that alien is kinda hot, okay?”
Slade’s deep laugh rumbles through his chest and into mine. He sets me down gently but keeps his hands on my waist like he doesn’t want to let go just yet.
“Thanks for telling Maria and Carla for me,” he says quietly. “The guys… they were mostly okay.”
I nod, relief flooding through. “So, we don’t have to move?”
Slade smiles, soft and sure. “Guess not.”
5 Years Later
Andrew
I pull into the driveway a little after two in the afternoon. The city office was an oven today even with the air-con blasting, and I’d powered through my work like a man possessed… headphones on, zero breaks, fingers flying across the keyboard… just so I could leave three hours early. The thought of our pool and my little family waiting at home had been the only thing keeping me sane.
I climb out, lock the car, and jog toward the front door in my work clothes. The trousers feel like they’re glued to my legs, the fabric hot and sticky against my skin. As soon as I step inside the cool house, the familiar sound of heavy paws thundering across hardwood comes barrelling toward me.
Goofy, our ridiculous, bounding golden Lab who earned his name the second we brought him home, launches himself at me like I’ve been gone for a year. His tongue is lolling, tail whipping so hard his whole back end wags.
I laugh and scratch behind his ear. “Down, boy.”
He gives me one last sloppy kiss on the cheek before spinning and bolting back outside toward the backyard,where I can already hear the chaos of splashing and tiny giggles.
I kick off my dress shoes with a sigh of relief, drop my bag by the door, and pad through the house. The moment I step out onto the back deck, a tidal wave of pool water crashes straight into my chest and face.
I splutter, wiping my eyes as tiny high-pitched giggles mix with Slade’s deep, rumbling bark of laughter. “That cool you down, baby?” Slade calls, voice dripping with smug amusement.
I blink the water out of my eyes and find him climbing out of the pool, water streaming down his broad chest and abs, swim trunks clinging to his thighs. Without a single care in the world, he walks straight over and wraps me in a big, soaking-wet hug, pressing a loud, happy kiss to my mouth.
I deadpan against his lips. “Really?”
He grins, unrepentant, water dripping from his hair onto my forehead. “Uh huh.”
“Did you just splash me the second I got home?”
Slade’s grin widens as he jerks his thumb toward the pool. “No, it was Poppy’s idea. I swear.”
Our one-year-old daughter is floating in her bright yellow inflatable, chunky little arms sticking out, kicking her feet happily and blowing bubbles between her lips. She looks ridiculously proud of herself.
