We clink glasses, and I take a sip of the expensive champagne, letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue.
“Dance with me,” Cole says suddenly.
“There's no music.”
“Alexa, play slow jazz,” he says to the voice assistant. Soft music fills the living room through the speakers. I giggle.
Cole holds out his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me into his arms. We sway together in his living room, my head on his chest, his chin resting on top of my hair.
“Turn off your phone,” he murmurs.
“What?”
“Turn it off. Just for tonight. No emails, no vendor calls, no follow-up requests. Just us.”
I’ve never ever turned off my phone, but tonight calls for it. I’m not expecting any urgent calls, and all I need is right here with me. I reach for my phone and power it down. Cole does the same.
“There,” he says, pulling me closer. “Now it's just us.”
We dance for several songs, barely moving, just holding each other. The stress and pressure of the day melt away, replaced by a quiet intimacy.
“Harper,” Cole says eventually, his voice serious.
I lift my head to look at him. “What?”
“I want to tell Brett about us.”
My stomach flutters with nerves. “When?”
“Tomorrow.” His hands slide up to cup my face. “I'm serious about you. About this. I want people to know you're mine.”
“Are you sure?” The vulnerability in my voice surprises me. “This changes everything.”
“It changes everything for the better.” He kisses me softly. “I love you, Harper.”
The words weaken my knees.He loves me. Cole Maddox loves me.
“I love you too,” I whisper, the admission terrifying.
He lifts me then, carrying me toward his bedroom, and I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his cologne.
He lays me down on the cool sheets, and his worship as he undresses me is slow and thorough. He takes his time, mapping every inch of me with his hands and his mouth, telling me with his body everything he said in the alcove.
That I’m art.
That I’m incredible.
That I’m his.
I come apart under him, crying out his name, and he holds me through it, murmuring praise against my damp skin.
When he finally buries himself inside me, it’s with a groan that sounds like home. We move together in a rhythm that’s ours alone, slow and deep, our eyes locked. The connection is so profound it steals my breath. This is more than just sex.
When we're finally spent and tangled together in his sheets, I trace patterns on his chest with my fingertip.
“What happens now?” I ask quietly.
“Now we stop hiding,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “ I’ve never met a woman I’ve ever wanted to settle down with. Not like this. Not forever.”
