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I let out a long breath. “We have to take you back.” I take her hand, starting toward the staircase leading up to the apartment. “I’ll ask John if I can borrow his car. The Midget is still parked at the shop. I rode in the ambulance with you last night.”
She digs her heels in, stopping me on the sidewalk. “I don’t need to go back. Honestly, I really do feel fine, and Mom said Lark filled out all the insurance paperwork last night, so I should be good.”
“You at least have to call and let them know you’re gone,” I say, anxiety thrumming inside me.
“I left a note thanking Brian for the coffee and telling him I felt better and had decided to head home,” she says with a shrug. “I’m sure he told the nurse that I left.”
“But you can’t just walk out of the hospital.” I hear myself sounding eerily like my mother and begin to understand the exasperated tone she used with me for most of my life.
Melody grins. “You’re cute when you’re fussy.”
“I’m not fussy,” I say. “I’m just concerned. You almost died last night. I’m all for impulsive decisions, but now is a good time for caution and attention to protocol.”
She sighs and squeezes my hand. “Okay, you can take me back to the hospital on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“That you delete all the texts I wrote while I was waiting for you without reading them. I shouldn’t have been texting while I was angry.” She allows me to lead her up the stairs to the apartment’s back door, waiting beside me while I fish out my keys. “And that we come back here as soon as I’m officially released so we can sort out where we’re going to put my stuff. I want to give my landlord notice today and move in before the first of the month.”
“That’s two conditions,” I say. “But I like them both. A lot. I also like the thought of taking a nap with you as soon as it can possibly be arranged.”
“Just a nap?” Her lips curve in a wicked grin as I unlock the door and push it open.
“I’ve been up all night, so definitely just a nap to start with.” I laugh as I pull her through the door and into my arms. “As far as after… I know you said you didn’t care what your family thought about us moving in together before we’re engaged, but…”
“But what?”
I hesitate, staring down at the beautiful, sexy woman in my arms, and wonder why I’m even considering saying what I’m about to say. But then I stop second-guessing and let the words come out.
Melody’s embracing her wild side. I’m practically obligated to embrace my cautious side to even things out.
“I still want to wait until we’re engaged,” I say. “Is that okay?”
Her brows draw together and uncertainty creeps into her eyes. “Is this because I’m a virgin, or because you’re worried about what my parents will think, or what? Because I’m ready. I’ve never loved someone the way I love you, and I know I’ll never love anyone else like this again. I’m ready. I can’t wait to be with you.”
I drop my forehead to hers, my voice husky with emotion as I say, “No, it’s not because you’re a virgin or anything else. It’s because I love you. So much. I want it to be perfect and special and a night we’ll both remember. Forever.”
She smiles. “That sounds beautiful. Conventional, but beautiful.”
I brush my lips over hers, kissing her with my next words. “What can I say? You bring out the conventional in me, baby.”
“And you bring out the wild in me,” she says. “Guess that means we’re perfect for each other.”
“I guess it does.” And then I kiss her, my tongue sweeping into her mouth, my arms tightening around her until every soft inch of her is pressed tight to every aching inch of me, and there’s nothing in the world but Melody, my Melody, and it is perfectly right.
We kiss until we’re both out of breath and her fingernails are digging lightly into the skin at the back of my neck before I force myself to pull away.
“Come on,” I say. “Let me ask John for his car keys, and we’ll get out of here.”
“Are you sure about this waiting thing?” she asks, nibbling at her bottom lip in a way that makes me long to do the same.
“I’m sure.” I grin and squeeze her hips.
“You’ve got a little devil in you, Nick Geary,” she says, narrowing her eyes.
“One of the many things you love about me, right?”
“Absolutely.” She pulls me in for another kiss, a kiss that doesn’t end until John clears his throat from across the room.
“A room, guys. A room. You need to get one,” he says, shuffling into the large kitchen-living room space between our two bedrooms in a yellow T-shirt with a puking clown on the front and a pair of saggy plaid pajama pants. “We’ve had this talk before, children.”
