Page 307 of Wild Card 13

Then he kissed me.

No warning.

No speech.

No careful question this time, because the question had already been asked in a hundred ways and answered the second I followed him out into the night.

His hands came to my face, and mine went to the front of his jacket, and years of restraint snapped so hard I felt it everywhere.

I kissed him back with everything I had been too proud to say. Too scared to admit. Too stubborn to forgive too easily. Too in love to keep pretending.

He made a sound against my mouth, rough and broken, and backed me gently into the wall beside the door, one hand cradling my jaw, the other braced near my shoulder like even now some part of him was making sure I had room to leave.

I pulled him closer by the lapels of his tux, and his control fractured.

The kiss turned deeper. Familiar and entirely adult at the same time. His mouth moved over mine like apology and promise and need, like every morning coffee, every held-back glance, every unfinished sentence had finally become impossible to contain.

My fingers slid into his hair.

His breath caught. “Luce,” he whispered against my mouth.

My heart cracked open at the sound. Because for once, loving him did not feel like bleeding. It felt like stepping into something I had been standing outside of for too long.

He pulled back just enough to look at me. His hands were still on me. Gentle now. Trembling a little. The man who had been socareful for so long looked wrecked. Beautifully, terrifyingly wrecked.

“I love you,” he breathed. “I’ve loved you for so long, Lucy. I know I messed it up. I know I don’t get to decide when you’re ready, or if you’re ready, or what this becomes. But I love you. I love you now. I loved you then. I think some part of me has loved every version of you I’ve ever been lucky enough to know.”

“I love you, too, Ty.”

CHAPTER 39

BUZZ

NOW

Her back hit the counter, and I was on her before she could breathe, one hand braced on the granite beside her hip, the other finding the curve where her dress had ridden up. The silk was warm from her skin. She gasped against my mouth—a sound I'd been hearing in my head since that hotel room in New York.

Her fingers threaded into my hair, tugging, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away, and that small choice almost undid me. I pressed into her, the counter edge digging into my thigh, and I didn't care, because she was tilting her head back, giving me her throat, and the only sound in the room was her breath catching and my name falling out of her like she'd been saving it.

"Ty."

Simple. Fleeting. The way she said it—a question and an answer at the same time—made my hand stop at the hem of her dress. My knuckles brushed bare skin, warm and soft, and I froze.

She felt the hesitation. Her eyes opened, brown and bright and a little wild, and I watched her read the question in my face before I could find the words for it.

"Tell me," I said, my voice rough. "Tell me this isn't just—" I couldn't finish the sentence. Didn't want to name what I was afraid of.

Her hand slid down my jaw, thumb tracing the corner of my mouth, and her voice was quiet but steady. "This is real."

The words hit somewhere under my ribs, and I kissed her again, deeper, trying to memorize the shape of her. My hand curled around her hip, fingers pressing into the silk, and I felt her shiver against me.

She pulled back just enough to look at me, her glasses slightly askew, her curls a mess. "Don't make me wait anymore."

I didn't plan to. My hand left her hip, found the counter edge beside her, and I stepped back just enough to take her in—the flush on her cheeks, the way her chest rose and fell, the small smile that was nothing like the careful one she'd worn at the reception.

I reached down and hooked my arm under her knees, the other hand at her back, and lifted her off the counter like she weighed nothing. She gasped, arms locking around my neck, that small sound hitting me right in the chest. Her dress slid against my shirt, silk on cotton, and her hair brushed my jaw as she tucked her face into my shoulder.

"You sure you can carry me? I'm not exactly?—"