That’s wrapping around me now.
“What are you doing here?” I rasp. Call me a pussy, but there’s a Knox-sized fist of shock, hope, joy, and yeah, fear, blocking my throat. And my heart, my fucking heart is in risk of breaking through my damn rib cage.
“Now that’s a long story,” she says, and though her tone is light, her gaze…is not. It’s dark, steady, searching. And filled with something that has my chest tightening. I drop my hand away from her face before I surrender to the urge to rub my thumb over the faint shadows under those amazing eyes. “To make it short—”
“Don’t make it short,” I growl. “I don’t want the abridged version.”
She nods, inhales a deep breath, then blows it out, the air fluttering the blunt edges of her bob. I silently order my hands that, no, they cannot stroke or grip those thick strands.
“Okay, long story it is. When I left your place, I was running, just like you said. You scared me—no, that’s a cop-out. I scared myself. With you, I became less selfish, less focused on me, and more concerned about you. I know how crazy and arrogant that sounds, but it’s true. I wanted to please you, see you smile, be the one who comforted you, listened to you. You slowly, against everything life had taught me, became…necessary. That night we went to my mom’s apartment, I saw myself in her, and it terrified me. When I was younger, herbeingrevolved around Dan. How she dressed, the hours she worked, what food he loved, his likes and dislikes, his moods. She tried to be everything he needed and could want. And after he left, she broke. She didn’t know who she was, didn’t know how to move on. From the day he walked out the door for good, she only existed. And I saw my future in her, sitting on that couch. Waiting for you to come home so my life could start. So my heart could beat. So my happiness could be fulfilled.”
“That could never be you, Cypress,” I interrupt. Hell, there was too much fire in her, too muchlife. “A woman who would leave everything familiar to travel to and live on the other side of the country and make a damn good success of herself isn’t the kind of person to let another define her. You aren’t your mother.”
Her expression softens, and a small smile quirks a corner of her mouth. “You’re telling my story. And…thank you,” she whispers. “But that’s why I ran. The thing about that is, you can outrun things but not yourself. And I might’ve moved to my mom’s house, but the problem is, I had to takemewithme. I’d convinced myself once I received the check from the sale of my condo, everything would be set right. I’d be back on solid financial ground, be able to find a much better job while I went to school—”
“Wait, wait.” I hold up a hand, breaking into her narrative again. All this info is coming at me one hundred miles per hour, and I’m finding it hard to keep up. Hell, half of my brain is still trying to process that she’shere.With me. “Check from condo sale? School? I’m missing something. A lot of somethings.”
Her smile widens, joy lighting up her eyes, the stars in them glittering. “Yes, I applied to Chicago State’s master’s program. I’m just waiting to hear if I’ve been accepted.”
“That’s a given, sweetheart.” The urge to touch her roars so strong, I lean farther back against my seat. She’s here, but I still don’t know why. Until then, she’s not mine to touch.
“God, you’re so good for my ego.” She gives a low chuckle, shaking her head. “So yes, there’s that and the sale of my condo in California went through. But here’s the thing, I found myself in a better position than I’d been in a long while, and I still wasn’t happy. I still felt empty,” she murmurs, echoing my thoughts from earlier. “I’d never realized how lonely and alone I was before you. And I was willing to stay there—in a prison of fear, insecurity, and loneliness—because I didn’t want to be hurt again. I wanted the legacy of ‘love’ in my family to end with me. But I wasn’t ending it, I was continuing it. By walking away from the person who makes me better, who has helped me heal, who has taught me that I’m worthy of being loved. You…”
“If you say I complete you, we’re going to have problems.” How I tease her when my head is pounding with the echo of her words, I don’t know.
She laughs, a loud, genuinely free sound, and it’s the first time I’ve heard it from her. It grabs my heart, squeezes it tight, and won’t ease up.
“No.” She shifts forward and, reaching for me, cups my face in her hands. “You don’t complete me. I do that for myself. But you,” she breathes, brushing her thumb over my mouth, smoothing it over my cheekbone. “You add to me. I’d resigned myself to go through this world alone and was okay with it. I didn’t know I wanted love before you walked into that bar. There was a part of me that was dead, but meeting you, knowing you, being with you…loving you, I realize that part wasn’t dead; it was just sleeping. And you woke me up. Because of you, I don’t ever want to sleep again. Thank you.”
The need, the utter adoration for this woman thunders and crashes so loud, so strong and primal inside me, I can’tnotput my hands on her. Thrusting my fingers through her hair, I drag her closer, erasing the few inches between us, and capture her mouth. She opens for me, automatically, without hesitation, welcoming me, taking me. It’s as if it’s been weeks, months, since the last time I tasted her, not days. And I can’t get enough.There was a part of me that was dead, but meeting you, knowing you, being with you…loving you, I realize that part wasn’t dead, it was just sleeping.With a desperate growl, I dive deeper. No, I can’t ever get enough.
A discreet cough from behind us finally penetrates the love and lust fog that cocoons us. With Herculean effort, I lift my head, but not before sweeping one last kiss over her lips. I don’t bother glancing around to see who we’re offending; I don’t care. Not when I can still taste her. Can breathe her in. Can have her.
“Say it, sweetheart,” I say—demand, hell,plead—against her mouth. “Give it to me.”
Her fingertips caress my eyebrows, my cheeks, jaw, neck. “I love you. Your angel face and warrior eyes. Your body that blocked the wind for me when I was cold and held me when I was lost. Your heart that was mine even when I was too afraid to take it. I love you, Jude Gordon. And thanks to a romantic ticket agent with a soft spot for misguided, stubborn women who need to make grand gestures to the men they love to win them back, she booked me on your flight to England.”
Shock barrels through me, and my grip on her hair tightens. “What?” For the first time, I glance down and notice the carry-on suitcase at her feet. I jerk my gaze back to her. “Sweetheart, what about school? I can’t let you—”
She shakes her head. “My decision. I’m not giving up anything. The exact opposite. And if, no,when, I’m accepted, I’ll start in the fall. If you decide you want to stay in London longer, I can take online classes for the first semester. And I’ve never been to England before. Not to mention, I called in a favor with my attorney in California to overnight my passport out of a safe deposit box. By the way, when you get back to the States, you’re flying to L.A. to tattoo my lawyer.”
I grin and swing her out of her chair and onto my lap. My arms are bands around her, holding her tight to me as I nuzzle her neck. “For you, I’ll give her the family discount.” Pinching her chin between my thumb and finger, I tilt her head down so those amazing eyes are right on me. Where I want them to always be. “Cypress, I love you. Thank you for coming after me.”
She lowers her head, brushes her lips over mine.
“Always.”
Epilogue
Cypress
Three months later
I snuggle against Jude, sitting between his legs, his chest and drawn-up knees better than any chair. It’s Sunday morning, and as has become our custom since arriving in London three months ago, we’re lazing in bed and drinking coffee—because although I am in absolute love with this city, I willneverbecome a tea drinker—after still mind-numbing, bone-melting sex.
No, lovemaking.
I haven’t had sex or fucked since I admitted my love to him in an O’Hare gate’s boarding area. Actually, he taught me the difference before I ever said those three words to him, but my head was just too far up my ass to see it. Thank God this beautiful man with the heart of a lion and the soul of an artist gave me a chance to figure it out.
