I sit in the corner of the couch, and pull her so she’s curled next to me, legs draped over my lap so I can settle my hand on her thighs. My other arm lands on the back of the couch where I can run my fingers through her curled and messy hair.
Now that I have free rein to touch her when I want, I’m not sure I’ll ever stop.
“So,” I start. “You want to tell me what happened at the wedding reception?”
“I heard what you said to Adrianna. And it hurt more than I expected it would.”
I already figured all this. Not that she confirmed it the day I hijacked her mimosa morning and confronted her.
She runs her tongue along her bottom lip, wetting it and inhales so deeply her breasts push out, snagging my attention for a moment before I refocus.
Boobs later. Talking now. As much as I want her, I won’t have her until I know we’re on the same page.
“I think,” she says and pauses. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time. Maybe even it started when I was still with Roman and then we broke up, and you were still dating all those girls.”
“Two,” I correct. There were two girls. Bailey and I went on two dates with Bianca. Bailey was the only one who was significant, and that’s only because she thought she was. “And that was months ago.”
“I know, you said. But after Roman and I had been broken up a while, you still never treated me differently. Never shown interest and so I figured you really just did think we were friends. And then the wedding weekend happened, and I was dealing with so much, with Roman and Julianna, my family, and you were there, giving me all I ever wanted from you. I only told Adrianna we were friends because I was scared to hope for more until we could talk. Then, I heard you say that and it was my worst fear come true.”
“Jilly…” I stop, not certain what else to say besides reassuring her how much I do care, how long I’ve wanted her, but she stops me and presses her finger to my lips.
“It’s okay. I get it, I get why you told her, and I wish I would have been brave enough when you asked me about it that day, but there was still so much swirling in my brain, I panicked.”
“I get it.” I kiss the pad of her fingertip, making her grin.
“I think I grew up not really knowing what love is, or at least not experiencing it the way I wanted to. And then there was Roman…” She flips her hand in the air and brushes it away. We’ve discussed Roman enough so I don’t push. “But everything that weekend was too much to handle and you… well, I need you. I need you in my life and I guess I knew, in some way, even if I pushed you away that morning, you’d still be there. But I couldn’t risk losing you completely. Not then.”
“You won’t ever have to. And I’m sorry I gave you that ultimatum last week. It killed me to hurt you, to walk away when I knew I made you cry again.”
“I know.” Tears swell in her eyes again. More freaking tears, but this time I can do something about it.
Cupping her cheek, I wipe away a tear off her cheekbone and whisper her name. “I shouldn’t have pushed. I should have given you the time I knew you needed, but I was impatient. I’ve wanted you for so long and yeah, after Roman and you broke up, I knew you needed space, but I thought the same way about you. You’d never given me any indication you wanted me like this.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Because I did.”
“Still do?”
“Now more than ever.”
My hand at her cheek slides to the back of her neck and head where I cradle her and bring her to me. “Good. Because I’ve loved you for a long time and now that I have you, you should know I’ll probably never let you go.”
“I don’t need to be anywhere else.”
I keep bringing her closer until her lips are brushing mine and then I seal our promises with a kiss that makes her shiver in my arms. My body is already ready for her. The results of her being so sweet, so beautiful, and pressed against me, and for wanting her for so long. It takes effort, but I keep our kiss slow, sensual. I show her with action and not words how much I want her, how much I love her.
And when she’s breathless, making those cute, needy little sounds that shows me how turned-on she is, I stand with her in my arms, carry her up the stairs, and spend the rest of the night showing her exactly how perfect we are together.
Epilogue
Klaus
Three Months Later
* * *
“The truck is gone.”
“Now we just have to unpack.”
Next to me, Jillian gives me her weight, settling her head on my shoulder. As her body relaxes, I swoop her up.
“Klaus!” she squeals as I grab her behind her knees and at her back.
“Aren’t I supposed to carry you over the threshold?”
“I think that’s after you get married.”
“I’ll do it then, too.” Her eyes widen at my statement. If she’s surprised, she shouldn’t be. We just bought a house with six bedrooms for crying out loud. “But first homes together should be celebrated.”
She grins, it’s blindingly bright even in the crisp December air. Like always when she looks at me like I’ve hung the moon, I kiss her and carry her through the entryway of our new home.
One we bought together.
It took a week for us to realize we didn’t want to live apart. With our crazy schedules, one of us was always exhausted by the time we got to the other’s house. It took another week to realize neither house would work enough to combine our homes together. Her home was too small and didn’t give me the exercise space I need or room to grow. Mine didn’t have the back yard she wanted with room to garden or a kitchen large enough to hold everything she owned.
We immediately went to work, scouring listings, finding our dream home. One with lots of bedrooms so we can fill it—my idea which made Jillian jump me in the living room, on her plush rug, which delayed our search or a few hours.
Fortunately, we hired the best realtor ever who within days, heard of a home going on the market in the neighborhood we wanted, with the land space we wanted. It has an old-world charm to it, because I know Jillian loves the history and architecture of older homes and not the cookie-cutter style new ones. It has three floors, a walkout basement and a private balcony outside our master bedroom on the top level so she can have her morning coffee or late-night glass of wine overlooking the pool and her gardens in raised beds surrounding it.
It has everything and more that we need, a movie room downstairs with an extra-large exercise room. Folding glass doors off the family room on the main level that open to our covered porch and then the pool and another half-acre of land beyond. It’s the perfect home for us to come together in, to truly start our lives together.
She laughs as I swing her through the massive two-story entryway, spin her around the curved banister and stairway railings. I dance with her and kiss her until we’re in the kitchen and set her down on the massive island that can sit at least eight adults and probably more.
“Welcome to your new home.” I kiss her and step in between her knees, reaching behind her for the box I’d brought with me in my truck. Inside the cooler is a bottle of champagne and two glasses.