He doesn't say anything else. I stare at him, completely shocked at what he just said. He loves me? He reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. "You've been through a lot, and I know this," he says. "But I also know that you are the bravest person I've ever met in my life. The bravest.”
He gives my hand another squeeze. "If you love me, you'll tell me this, too." I pull my hand out of his, and reach for my phone, because I need to tell him I love him too. But he takes my phone and throws it on the dash, so I can't reach it. I look at him, agape, and he only shakes his head.
"Say. It."
I open my mouth, and imagine the words coming out. I will myself to do it, for the words to tumble out of my lips like they're meant to. To tell this beautiful, strong, brave man that I love him, that I belong to him, and that I'll never leave him again. That I never should've left him to begin with. There're so many things to say that I feel almost paralyzed. I shake my head and stare at him. I open my mouth.
And then he's in my space, crawling up right next to me. He's yanking me over to him, his hand cradling the back of my neck. His lips, insistent, tender, so soft I almost moan, but nothing but silence comes out, as always. There's forgiveness in that kiss, and a desire so strong I feel it in my very soul. When he pulls away, his voice is tortured. He whispers in my ear, “Now say it."
Nothing comes out of my mouth again. I can't speak. I haven't been able to speak for ages, what makes you think I can do it now?
He shakes his head, and turns away from me, facing the road again. He starts the engine.
“I thought it was only in my head, thinking that you loved me back."
Oh, God. Does he think I'm hesitating because I don't want to say it? Doesn't he know that I love him?
But if I loved him, why would I leave him? I can't. I bloody fucking shouldn't. I reach for his hand, and yank him back over to me. I stare at him and open my mouth. Nothing comes out at first, but I give my heart a harsh talking to.
You’ve done it before. You can do it fucking again.
This time I open my mouth.I stare at him, wanting to tell him so many things, it suddenly feels as if I can’t hold it back anymore.
“I…” the first word tumbles from my lips. My voice sounds hoarse with disuse, as if I've taken it out of an old trunk in the attic, and I have to dust it off and make it new again. But just hearing that one little word inspires me for more, so much more.
I'm determined not to let my expectations diminish my results. I'm determined to tell him how very much he actually means to me.
I draw in a cleansing breath, imagining it gives me the energy and ability to do what I need to, to say what I need to.
Sometimes you need to justdo, and not think. Sometimes you need to trust the process, and not focus on the steps. Sometimes you need to simplylive.
My lips part. Like a toddler taking her first step, I stumble, but continue forward determinedly, not allowing my faltering to keep me from doing what I want to. What I need to.
“I… love…you.”
And then I laugh.
Ilaugh.
The first laugh I’ve laughed out loud in over a decade, and God, but it feels so good, tears prick my eyes.
“You did it, lass,” he says, pulling me to him for a hug so tight it almost hurts. I can’t breathe, trapped in his arms as he cradles me to him. “You did it.”
I blink.
I did it. I really, truly did it.
When I see tears shining in Leith’s eyes, my own follow without a second thought.
“I did it,” I whisper, this time the words coming easier than the first.
“You did,” he says back, holding me to him as he strokes his fingers through my hair. “And hell, if that isn't the most beautiful voice I've ever heard. I love you so much, doll. So bloody much. And there’s no fucking way I’m going to let you leave, do you understand me?"
I speak haltingly. It takes so much effort to make my voice work that I’m out of breath. “I… don’t want to cause harm.”
His eyes narrow, and he gives me one of those teasing grins that makes my belly flip. “I’ll cause harm across your pretty little arse if you say that again.”
I don’t know how or why he turns me on with that caveman growl, but my whole body tingles. I turn to him, framing his face in my hands. The prickle of the scruff on his chin tickles my hands and makes my heart beat faster. Everything about him is rough and stern… except when he’s with me.With me.
