Page 95 of Wade’s Wrath

“Well, you could have told me that you made your decision,” he said.

They stared at each other, and Harlow laughed. “We're terrible at this,” she said.

“Apparently,” he breathed. His expression turned serious. “Do you really want me?”

Harlow reached for his hand. “I want you.” Wade went still. “I want to work at your bar. I want your terrible attitude. I want you telling me I've over poured a drink when we both know I did it on purpose.” His mouth twitched. “I want the man who slept in a chair in the bedroom because I was scared.” His fingers tightened around hers. “I want the man who gave me a job when I told him I needed to earn my own money. And I want the idiot who pushed me away because he was so determined to make sure I had a choice that he nearly convinced me he didn't want me anymore.”

Wade winced. “Yeah. That was fucked up. But I should warn you that I’ll probably fuck up again, Harlow,” he admitted.

She stepped closer. “I’m aware,” she said. “But I had three weeks at Butcher's house to think, and I realized that I don't need you, Wade.”

Something flickered across his face. Harlow smiled. “I choose you.” His breath left him. “There's a difference.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said.

“I could stay with Butcher and Princess.”

“I know,” he said.

“I could find somewhere else eventually, and I could walk away from you.” His jaw tightened. “But I don't want to.” That was all it took. Wade pulled her against him and kissed her. Three weeks of distance disappeared in seconds.

When he finally lifted his head, Harlow was breathless. “I love you,” he said.

She smiled. “I love you too.”

His forehead dropped against hers. Then, because he was still Wade, he said, “You're coming home with me tonight. I’ll pack your shit myself if I have to.”

Harlow laughed. “Bossy asshole.”

“You've been living with my Prez for three weeks. I'm taking my woman home.”

“Your woman?” she asked.

His expression changed. “You got a problem with that?”

Harlow pretended to think and smiled at him. “No. I do not have a problem with being your woman.”

“Good,” he said.

“But I'm packing my own bag,” she insisted.

“Fine,” he said.

“And I'm telling Princess myself,” she said.

“Fine,” he breathed.

“And you're not ordering me around the entire time,” she added.

Wade stared at her. “Let's not get fucking ridiculous.”

Harlow laughed as he wrapped her in his arms. She was finally going home, and she couldn’t wait to start her new forever with Wade.

That night, Harlow stood in Wade's bedroom again. Only this time, she wasn't there because she had nowhere else to go. Her bag sat beside the dresser. Princess had hugged her before she'd left and whispered, “Took you long enough.”

Butcher had shaken Wade's hand, then told him not to screw it up again. Harlow had laughed the entire way to Wade's truck. Now, she wasn't laughing, because Wade had closed the bedroom door behind them, and the look on his face made heat rush through every inch of her.

Three weeks—three fucking weeks she'd wanted him. Three weeks of seeing him at the bar. Three weeks of pretending she didn't notice him watching her. Three weeks without his hands on her, his mouth on her lips, or his body beside hers at night.