James stared at his dad.
His dad gave a half-smile. “I can’t actually tell if you’re stunned by my brilliance or your own stupidity.”
“I think it might be a little of both,” James admitted. “When did you get so wise?”
“It’s called old age, and don’t go there, it’s a trick. James, do you love her?”
That was easy. “Yes.”
“Then what are you doing sitting here? Go after her.”
“I’ve done that.”
“Yeah? How did it go?”
James opened his mouth, but then shut it again and sat back, realizing he’d never gone after Hannah. Not once. He’d always expected her to be there on his terms, never returning the favor. He’d expected her to give up everything and go away with him, then blamed her for their demise when she wouldn’t do it. That was on him, for not bringing her all the way in on why he needed to go, what he’d promised Jason. Instead, he’d assumed she’d follow him on blind faith, without understanding what it meant to him.
What a hypocritical dick.
But he was tired of running. Jason was gone and nobody could bring him back, so maybe it was time to actually live by the motto his brother had pushed. He needed to get his own happy—which happened to be one imperfectly perfect brunette with warm brown eyes and a sweet smile. He stood up and looked down at his parents.
His mom waved him off. “Don’t worry about us. I’m defrosting for the first time in a month. We’ll be fine.”
“Go,” his dad said.
So he went. He ran the length of the passerelle to the dock while pulling out his phone to get a ride to the airport, only to stop short ten feet from the ship because Hannah was running toward him, looking like she was both laughing and crying. He pulled her into him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Yes. No,” she corrected, shaking her head, gasping for air. “I need to hit the gym more.”
As stunned as he was, he couldn’t find the humor in that statement to save his life. “Hannah, what are you doing?”
“I was leaving, but I made the cab turn around,” she said. “I needed to see you.”
He shook his head, dizzy with relief to see her, but afraid to hope. “But the case—your dad told me about the affidavits you need—”
“I’ve developed working relationships with most of the medical staff at my hospital. I called the surgeon’s office and begged to talk to him. His office is doing the paperwork as I speak, and Cynthia will personally go get them. It should be okay.”
He was boggled. “Why aren’t you going?”
She took a deep breath. “Because I forgot to tell you something.”
Okay, this could be really bad or really good, and since luck hadn’t been on his side lately, he braced himself. “That’s funny,” he said as lightly as he could. “I need to tell you something too.”
“Can I go first?” she asked very seriously. “Because I’m going to disintegrate into a million pieces unless I say this to you.” She let her purse and duffel hit the deck and cupped his face. “You’re more important to me than a job, and I’m sorry I didn’t show you that. I was . . .”—she shook her head—“scared. I’ve buried myself in work for so long . . . I’ve forgotten how to leave space for the people I care about.”
He opened his mouth, but she put a finger to his lips. “Because of that, I’ve never let a guy all the way in. I mean, how could I when it involved stuff like . . . being home for dinner and pretending not to care if the other person refuses to put the toilet seat down.” She swallowed. “And then there’s the biggest problem of all.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve used up every single inch of my closet. And all of the shelves in the whole apartment.”
The hope he’d been attempting to keep reined in broke free and a rough laugh escaped him. His knees nearly buckled in relief as he spoke around Hannah’s fingers still against his mouth. “Okay, but those aren’t actual problems. We will find time to have meals together, and I live out of a duffel bag for long stretches of time, so I’ll never care about closet space. Also, I can go either way on the toilet seat. What I can’t go either way on is you.”
She exhaled and sagged into him. “You just did in my knees.”
“I’ve got you. I know I’ve screwed that up before, but I’ve got you now, Hannah. I’m at your back, always.”
She had her hands fisted in his shirt, staring up at him. “There’s still an actual real problem.”
Not if he could help it, he thought, stroking a strand of hair from her face. “Lay it on me, Hannah Banana.”
“I’ve never been able to make a relationship work. Never, not once, James,” she said, clearly a hundred percent serious. “And there’s something else. I’m . . . difficult.” She whispered the word, as if she was ashamed of that.
A wave of affection and a fierce sense of protectiveness for this prickly woman he loved more than life itself overcame him. Covering her hands with his, he smiled at her. “And . . . ?”
“And”—she bit her lower lip, looking nervous and anxious—“and people don’t tend to like that.”
His amusement was gone in a blink, replaced by so much emotion his chest didn’t feel like it could contain it all. “Hannah, I love that about you.”
She stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “You love that I’m difficult?”
“I love the fact that you have your own mind and speak it. I love how passionate you are and how you dig in your heels on the things that matter most to you.”
“But . . . what if you stop?” she asked with heartbreaking emotion in her voice. “What if you stop loving those things about me?”
Pulling her into him, he dropped his forehead to hers. He looked into her eyes, and the emotion and love he read there filled his soul and dismissed all the doubts he’d ever had about being enough for her. “Babe, I’ve loved you for all these years. That’s not going to change now. Or ever.” He paused. “I’ve got some more things to say now. Will you listen?”
She stared into his eyes. “Yes.”
Do not blow this. “When I saw you running toward me on the dock just now, I felt the greatest relief in my life. I want you to know that even if you hadn’t come back, I was coming to you. I was wrong to walk away from you. And I was wrong six years ago too, asking you to drop your life for mine. That wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t something a man should do to the woman he loves.”
She opened her mouth, but he gently set his finger to her lips. “And I do love you, Hannah. I love you and I should’ve fought for you, for both of us, after Jason died and on this trip as well. I’m sorry I didn’t, but I can promise you, I’ll never not fight for you again.”
“Same,” she said finally, the sweetest promise he’d ever heard. “But, James, I still live in Wildstone. You live . . . well, sometimes you’re in New York helping your dad, but mostly you’re gone, working all over the world.”
“That’s all true, but for a while now, I’ve known I needed a home base. I’m yearning for that, actually.”