But she didn’t feel victorious.
She felt like shit. Made worse when he pressed a loving kiss between her legs.
His eyes lifted to hers, blinking, raw, stark with vulnerability. “You’re not the only one who’s afraid of getting hurt again.” He pushed off the bed and stood before her naked, open, his hands hanging at his sides. “It scares me how much I need you.”
I need you.
Three words, so simple and ambiguous, reached into her chest and shook her. They sneaked under her guard and gathered up the most broken parts of her.
I need you.
“Ten years ago,” she said, voice cracking, “you wrote those words to your girl.”
“And my girl heard them. She listened to me. She was there for me. I need my girl to keep doing that. I need you, Rylee.”
“I’m not…” She pressed her fingers to her brow and released an anguished breath. “You were livid because I invaded your privacy.”
“I’m an idiot.”
For a man who’d spent most of last week glaring instead of talking, she couldn’t fathom what the fuck had changed.
Except she knew.
He was telling her, showing her, and she just couldn’t accept it.
“Someone else could’ve bought Caroline’s jacket and logged into her account,” she said. “I could’ve been anyone. You can’t hinge this on the emails. Why do you need me?”
“You challenge me at every goddamn turn. You keep me in check, never backing down. You don’t cower in the face of fear, not even when you’re trapped under a bed and hunted by a hitman. You’re crazy as hell, but you have a levelheaded grip on your moral compass. You think your heart is subtle? That you don’t show it or share it with anyone? That’s not true, Rylee. I watched you cry for your neighbor. You cried for that motel clerk. And you cried for me when I burnt Caroline’s house.” He dragged a hand down his brow, his nose, his mouth. “As if all that wasn’t enough to send me off the rails…” He looked up, his gaze touching, stroking, heating her body. “You’re so wildly, immeasurably, astonishingly beautiful it physically hurts.”
Heart thundering, she lowered her eyes to the engorged erection hanging between his legs.
A swallow stuck in her throat.
There was no gain without pain. No reward without risk. She would never know how good it could be unless she got out of her own way.
The truth was she did need him. She needed his intensity, his honesty, his possessiveness, his passion.
She desperately needed him to need her.
But she was scared. Yes, she was thinking about Mason and the ten years of pain he’d caused her. How could she open herself up and expose her heart to another decade of agony?
And there would be agony. Over the last nine days, Tommy had proved just how vicious he could be.
He steadily watched her, his demeanor cooling by the second, along with his arousal. She held his gaze, locked in a standstill that made no progress.
With a deep breath, he shot her a shivering look and turned toward the bathroom.
She summoned her pride and remained silent as he walked away, leaving her on the bed with her disparaging thoughts. The door shut behind him, and a moment later, the shower turned on.
Tears threatened as her stomach twisted, but through the churning and lurching, she felt something stronger, more profound. Longing.
There was no one more capable of love than Tomas Dine. He’d been devoted to Caroline Milton at a level that had made Rylee envious. At the peak of his sexual prime, years after Caroline’s death, he’d remained faithful to her. His emails spoke of nothing but love for the girl.
He’d never blamed her for his pain. Never let her loss define him. He grieved without allowing it to control his life.
If he’d married Caroline, he would’ve never cheated on her because betraying someone he loved wasn’t part of his chemical makeup.
Nine days ago, Rylee drove to Tommy’s house with a plan. She wanted to help him move on from his ghosts. But he wasn’t the one who needed help.
Her chest constricted, and she rubbed her breastbone.
The truth was there, waiting.
I need help.
I need him.
Deep down, she still dreamed of finding a life partner, someone who loved her enough to be loyal. Faithful.
I found him.
Her winding, battling thoughts went on through his absence and carried through her own shower. He let her have the space, and like a coward, she lingered in the bathroom long after she finished. If she avoided him long enough, he would realize she wasn’t worth the effort and seek out someone younger and easier to manage.
A voice in the back of her mind hissed, You stupid cow. He loves you.
She hid in the bathroom until her hair was air-dried. Until she was confident he was asleep. He’d been running for days without slowing down. He needed the rest.
Nothing would be decided now.
Wrapped in a towel, she opened the door and froze.
He sat on the floor just outside, his back to the wall and head hanging between his bent knees. Waiting for her.
Her lungs caved in as his golden eyes lifted, searching hers for a specific answer to a specific question.
She clutched her throat. “I hold onto grudges forever.”
He rose to his full height, wearing briefs and nothing else.
“Then I’ll wait.” He held out a hand.
“Forever?”
“For as long as it takes.”
Her heart keeled and bucked and pounded, the painful beats speaking to her, telling her something important was within reach, and she should grab it before someone stole it away.
Her damn heart bayed for his.
Fingers trembling, she grasped his hand. He led her to the bed, undressed, and wordlessly slid beneath the covers. She dropped the towel and followed him in.
Their bodies came together on instinct, chest to chest, hips to hips, legs entwined. He held her with arms of corded brawn, his muscular torso and soft, thick cock pressed tight to her body.
She had a full belly, a warm bed, and a beautiful man with his hands wrapped around a part of her she’d never imagined a man would touch again.
Her heart.
“Tommy.” She touched his strong, whiskered jaw and sank into the golden rays of his eyes. “I’m your girl.”
“From the moment you read my first email.” He cupped her face and rested his forehead against hers.
“I need you.”
She felt his brows pull together, his muscles tightening around her. Then his hand lowered, drifting down her body to slide between her legs.
“No.” She gripped his arm and flattened his hand against her chest. “I need all of you, Tommy. I need us. I don’t know what that looks like tomorrow or ten years from now, or how our worlds fit together, but knowing you, you already have all that worked out.”
“You’re mine.” His strange expression suggested he was trying out the words, tasting them. “Mine.”
“And you’re mine.”
He smiled, a brilliant, lustrous, heart-stopping smile, and caressed his palms along her shoulders. His fingers laced through her hair, and his mouth captured hers, kissing her senseless.
His happiness felt elemental against her lips, stirring a fluttery, whirling, delicious warmth in her chest. They made out without hurry or expectation, touching, kissing, grinning, living.