Page 112 of Final Proposal

And when the kiss ends, when my feet are lowered, I beat my hands against his chest. “Don’t you ever, ever, ever do that to me again.”

His laugh rings out. “Just another day at home with you beating me up one way or another.”

“Shut up.” I push him and then press my lips to his again. Another taste to affirm he’s alive. That he’s okay. That this is really him, here, in my arms.

His hands are on my face. His eyes are locked with mine. His half-cocked smile owns my heart.

“I love you, Ellery Sinclair. I love you, and I’m sick of not saying it. I love you, and all I could think about as the chopper went down was that I hadn’t told you. So I’m telling you now. I’m telling you so that you can do what you want with it, but nothing is changing my feelings now. You got that? Because I’d rather make a mistake in telling you than it be a travesty that you didn’t know.”

I hear his words. I understand what he’s saying. But I’m so overwhelmed by everything that there is. Lost in not losing him that his words are there, but my need for him to be alive drowns everything out.

The fear.

The panic.

It’s just him.

Just us.

Just another tomorrow for us to figure this out.

Ford

The dreams never stop.

One after another. What could have happened. What did happen. And each nightmare shook me awake to find Ellery’s face on the pillow beside me. Her legs intertwined with mine. Her even breathing and steady heartbeat beneath my palm a reassuring reminder that they were just that. Nightmares.

And in between the terror and fear was the reminder of what happened last night. Of me pulling her onto my lap. Of us holding on to each other. Of her lips meeting mine as she sank down onto me.

As she loved me—with her body and the emotion in her eyes—but never with words.

We moved in the silence.

Reacting to each other’s touches. Each other’s moans. Each other’s pleas.

Reacting until it became almost painful to breathe knowing that I almost lost this. Lost her.

When I pulled back to look at her, to watch what she looks like awash in love, a lone tear slid down her cheek. I kissed it away. I murmured that I was okay. That I am okay.

And that I loved her.

But the pleasure became lost when the next nightmare hit. When it scared the shit out of me.

I think the dream jolts me awake. Or did the door just click?

The first thing I notice is the room is starting to lighten from the early dawn breaking.

The second is that Ellery isn’t beside me. The bed is cold.

I scrub my hands over my face and swing my legs over the side of the mattress. “Elle?” I ask toward the partially opened bathroom door.

Maybe she’s having the same nightmares I am. Maybe she needs a reminder that I’m okay.

But when I peek in the bathroom, she’s not there. I head to the hallway, and when I look down it, her back is to me as she rolls her suitcase behind her.

Panic strangles me. Does she have a meeting I forgot about? A conference call she needs to be on?

But I know the answer is no.