Page 51 of Melting for the Firefighter
Only then do I climb back into bed.
I pull her against my chest.
She comes without hesitation.
Cora places her bandaged hand over my heart.
“Still beating,” she murmurs.
“Barely.”
“Was I okay?”
The uncertainty in her voice makes anger flare toward every person who taught her to question whether she was enough.
I tighten my arm around her.
“You were perfect.”
Her body relaxes against mine.
I press my mouth to her hair.
“Better than anything I imagined.”
“You imagined this?”
“For two years.”
She tilts her face up.
“You really wanted me that long?”
“Wanted you longer than I was willing to admit.”
Her smile starts small and turns soft enough to hurt.
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be the only one who fell too fast.”
Every muscle in my body goes still.
Cora’s eyes drift closed before I can ask exactly what she means.
Within minutes, she is asleep.
I stay awake.
One arm rests around her waist. Her curls cover my chest, and her breathing warms my skin.
Love arrives without asking permission.
Maybe it has been here for two years, waiting behind every excuse I made to walk past Grandma’s Garden. Every flower I bought without needing one. Every time I slowed my truck because I saw her turning the sign in the window.
Now it spreads through my chest until there is no room for doubt.
