Chasing something real and permanent.
Her soft moans echo off the tile, mingling with the hiss of the shower and the rasp of her name on my lips. I watch everyemotion cross her face, the joy, the ache, the vulnerability, and I swear I feel each one like it’s etched into my ribs.
And when she comes, shivering and whispering my name, I hold her even tighter, chasing her over the edge and falling right with her, filling her like I swore I would.
Afterward, I keep her in my arms, her body slick and warm, both of us trembling for different reasons.
Gently, I reach for the soap and wash every inch of her, starting with her shoulders, down her arms, the dips of her waist. She tries to protest, but I hush her with a kiss to the curve of her belly. Then she returns the favor, fingers trailing across my chest, careful around the scars as if they’re fresh, until the water runs clear between us.
Once we’re dry—her in one of my shirts that swallows her whole, me in boxers, we crawl into bed, quiet and spent.
She curls into me like it’s her favorite place to be, her cheek against my chest, her fingers tracing slow circles over my chest.
And I hold her.
Hold her like I’ll never let her go.
Words press against my ribs, aching to be spoken. Words I’ve never said, not to anyone, not since I was too young and stupid to know better. Words that sit heavy in my throat, too scared to fall out… becausethis?
All of this?
It feels a hell of a lot like the happily ever after I told myself I’d never get a second chance at.
Chapter Forty
Sheets Of Glory
“Kade!” I shout, hands shaking as I slam another drawer shut. “Kade William Archer!”
Footsteps slam down the hallway, echoing my chaotic heartbeat.
“What?” he barks, careening into the kitchen, eyes wild. “What’s wrong? Is it Aurora?”
I soften.
For two seconds.
Then I’m stabbing an accusing, trembling finger at the open drawer labeledGeorgia's GF Snacks. “What the hell is this?”
My voice is high pitched and thready, and it only gets worse when I open the next drawer, this one labeled similarly, and packed full of my favorite granola bars.
Panic twists in my chest. I slam it shut, yanking open the next one. My favorite gluten-free crackers, boxed and organized next to jars and jars of the stupid nut butter he saw me having a meltdown over.
Months ago.
When we still hated each other.
But it’s the cabinet labeledBaking Stuff For Gfilled with new, still-packaged baking supplies that has my knees giving out.
I catch myself on the counter just as Kade shoots forward, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
“What…” I trail off, voice cracking as I blink back tears.I think I’m in shock.“Why?”
He presses his lips to the side of my face. “Because I could.”
“Kade…” Spinning in his arms, I force my knees to stay upright and shake my head. “You didn’t have to do any of this. I… I have baking stuff and food at my place.”
“Then bring it here.”
