Cat listened to the steady rhythm of Tate's heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. The room was quiet now, save for the soft crackling of the fire and the gentle patter of rain against the window. The storm outside had subsided, much like the one that had raged between them moments before. She couldn't help but smile at the thought, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.
Tate's arm tightened around her, pulling her closer as if he feared she might slip away. His lips pressed against the top of her head, lingering there in a soft kiss. She could feel his breath, warm and steady, against her hair. There was a comfort in his embrace, a sense of belonging that she hadn't felt in years.
"I've missed this," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've missed you, Tate."
She could still taste him on her lips, still feel the echo of his touch on her body.
"I never want to lose this again," Tate said, his voice a low rumble in his chest. She could feel the vibrations against her cheek, his words resonating deep within her. "I love you, Cat. I always have. I’ve been lying to myself for too long, and I don’t want to do it anymore. I don't want to waste more time. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since we’ve been apart, is that life is too short."
Her heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the fire or their lovemaking. Any fear about making her own declaration flew from her mind.There was a deep sense of safety with Tate she’d never known with anyone else, and frankly, hadn’t expected to find.
“I love you, too. I’ve never stopped thinking about you,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion, the blood roaring in her ears. There was no going back from this. She’d said it, and she couldn’t deny it later. “This is crazy. I’ve only just come home, and now we’re in love. What happens next?”
Cat didn’t want to take it back in the morning. She wanted to make it work with this man. Finally, they’d grown up enough to make it happen. They hadn’t been mature enough in the past.
“We sleep,” Tate said with a lazy grin, winding a strand of hair around his finger. “And in the morning, we start thinking about what we want our life to be.Our life, Kitty Cat. We start making each other important.”
He made it sound so simple. Could love truly be that easy? She wasn’t sure, but she had something she hadn’t had even a week ago.
Hope.
Chapter
Sixteen
It should have beenthe best of mornings, and in its way it was.
Tate and Cat had taken a giant step in cementing their relationship and the second chance the universe had given them, and last night had been better than he could have ever hoped. They were officially back together and in love.
He couldn’t have predicted this a few weeks ago, but now he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. Every day was better when he spent it with her.
But the specter of someone wanting to kill Josh hung over them like a dark cloud on a summer day. So far, there had been two attempts on Josh’s life.
Two lousy and rather amateurish attempts. They’d been so inept it was beginning to bug Tate. How many tries did this person need to kill their target?
“I hope you’re hungry,” he said to Cat, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his car as they headed to his home. “I’m going to cook you breakfast before I go into work for the day.”
“We’re not going to the bar?”
“Nope, I’m taking you to my place. If we go into the tavern, I’m going to get sucked into work immediately, and I want to relax, shower, and have something to eat before that happens.”
“You have a house?”
Tate had to quell the urge to laugh at the question.
“Cat, where do you think I live?”
“I guess…above the tavern.”
“I do have an apartment up there,” he explained. “And I sometimes spend the night there if I work late. But I have a house. I have for years. It’s a little out of the way, but I like it. It’s quiet out here, and there aren’t many neighbors or noise. I get enough of people at the bar. I need my downtime.”
He turned down the lane that led to his home, a canopy of trees on each side. Already, he could feel his tension dissolving and his mood lightening. It was here that he could truly relax.
Tate was proud of his home, although he was usually far too busy to entertain or throw big parties. He’d taken his time furnishing it, which meant that some of the rooms had been empty for a time until he’d figured out what he wanted to do with them.
He pulled into the garage and hopped out to offer a hand to Cat, but she’d beaten him to the punch. He unlocked the door and led them into the kitchen.
“This is nice,” she exclaimed. “Mid-century modern and yet…not at the same time. I like it.”
