Page 76 of After You Returned

“Read it.”

“It’s your personal mail.”

“As if respecting someone’s privacy has ever stopped you before. You’re still on Cora’s blacklist. She will never forgive you for rifling through the letters in her postbag.”

“You are giving me permission to open this?” I nod and he opens the envelope.

My knee bounces as I watch him read the letter. I study his face but he doesn’t give anything away. No panic. No surprise. No happiness.

“Since when do you have a poker face?”

“Since I lost a poker game to Zane and he forced me to babysit Adele. I don’t know what they feed that baby but her diapers are nasty.”

I tap the letter. “What do you think?”

He smiles. “I think this is a wonderful opportunity for you.”

“And?” Where’s the panic?

“And I don’t know what Hudson offered you, but it’s going to be hard to beat this. Especially since you said you really enjoy working with military members.”

“I’ll have to move.”

“Make sure you get an apartment with a big enough bedroom for a king-sized bed.”

My brow wrinkles. “What?”

He motions to himself. “I’m too tall to sleep on a smaller bed.”

“You sleep on the bed?”

“Yeah.” He tugs on one of my curls. “When I visit every weekend.”

“Every weekend?”

“And holidays. Although, I’ll be travelling for work more often. I may have to skip a weekend here or there.”

“You’re serious. You would drive to the mainland to visit me every weekend?”

“I’m dead serious.”

“But you won’t have time to surf. What about your surfing lessons?”

“None of it matters.”

My head rears back. “Excuse me. I’m hallucinating again. Did you say surfing doesn’t matter? Do I need to find my thermometer to take your temperature?”

“As long as it’s not a rectal thermometer,” he mutters before clearing his throat. “Surfing is a sport I enjoy. It’s not my life. You are.”

“What?”

He throws the letter onto the coffee table before grasping my hands. “Hazel Harris, you are what matters. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ll never stop loving you.”

I gaze into his eyes but there’s no hint of deception. It’s all honesty with a hint of heat.

These are the words I’ve longed to hear from Miles for years. The words I dreamed he’d say when he returned home all those years ago. Instead, he ignored me most of the time. I want to reach for him. I want to believe him. But I don’t know if I can.

Miles tugs on my hands until I’m forced to straddle him. He palms my face. “I don’t expect you to say the words back to me. I need to show you they’re true. I need to prove to you I’m here to stay. I won’t run away.”