I gripped his shirt collar with my fingers so he couldn’t pull another inch away from me. “You do?”
He clenched his jaw. “Fuck. Yes. So fucking much. And if you don’t feel the same way, too fucking bad because I?—”
I lurched up and kissed him before crawling up his huge body and clinging onto him with my arms and legs. “I love you,” I said in a giddy voice before repeating it. “I love you so much. I love you more. More than you could ever love me.”
“’S not a competition, baby,” he said with a laugh against my lips.
“Studies show competition in relationships is healthy,” I murmured, sneaking baby kisses along the jaw I loved so much.
“You’re making that up.”
“I was so afraid I was going to lose you,” I admitted in a whisper.
His arms tightened more around me before he moved us to the living room and dropped onto the sofa. “Delaney, you’d have to do more than write an article about an asshole to lose me. You’d have to do something egregious like…” He mock-glared at me. “Order red metal fucking cabinets for an unplumb wall again.”
I hugged his neck and buried my face in it, inhaling his familiar scent. The scent of home. “Never. I promise. All my cabinets will be handcrafted from now on. By my…” I hesitated.
The deep rumble of his laugh vibrated through both of us. “Say it.”
I shook my head, hiding my grin in his skin.
“Your boyfriend, Delaney. Say it,” he teased again.
“I’m not writing the story,” I said, ruining the mood. It needed to be done. Brewer needed to know everything I’d found out. “It’s a shitty story, first of all. Turns out your father was a selfish ass, just like you said.”
Brewer nodded. “You should have learned that from me, babe. I’m sorry I wasn’t more open with you about my family situation. The stuff with my dad, with the family business… all of it. I finally talked to Hayes about everything, but I never talked to you. I’m sorry.”
I ran my fingers along his neck and jaw before glancing up at him. “Will you tell me now?”
As he spoke, I settled comfortably against him on the sofa. Teeny snuffled softly by the fireplace, and the moon slowly rose through the window. The comforting rumble in Brewer’s voice would have put me to sleep if he hadn’t been telling me such an interesting and enraging story about his father’s greed.
By the time he got to the end of it, I was on the edge of the sofa, fists tight and jaw even tighter.
“I’m taking him down,” I gritted out. “Fuck that motherfucker.”
Somehow, Brewer’s eyes danced, and he seemed completely at ease. “No you’re not. You’re going to write the story, baby. And you’re going to do an incredible job.”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Fuck that.”
He gently pulled my arms away and guided me back into his embrace. “If by ‘that,’ you mean ‘me,’ then I say we have a jam cupboard to visit.”
I stared at him, incredulous. How could he not… wait.
“A jam cupboard, you say? Tell me more.”
He stood up and pulled me up next to him before kissing me and yanking me toward the kitchen. “Did you know there’s such a thing as a Temptation Box? Janice Plum told me it used to hold alcohol during the temperance movement, but I think it would make the perfect hiding place for a bottle of lube.”
I snorted. “A historic lube bin for teetotalers? I’m never missing one of Janice Plum’s Historic whatever-the-fuck meetings again.”
He turned to face me and leaned down to throw me over his shoulder with a laugh. “Maybe the wick-dipping wasn’t what we thought it was.”
We were halfway to a glorious jam cupboard rendezvous when a shrill sound split the night.
KAK-WEEE!
“Oh fuck,” Brewer said. “That’s probably Kel bringing me chocolate cake. And before you ask, it’s a long story. Ignore it.”
Easiest decision I ever made.
