It took driving over multiple curbs and several curse words to get to Rowan’s in a moving truck. My nerves are fried, my shoulders ache from gripping the steering wheel, and I’m 90 percent certain I invented two new traffic violations on the way here. Now that I’m parked and have beaten on his door enough times that the neighbor came out and cut me a disapproving look, I’m standing in his doorway, and he’s got jokes.
“Let me in, and give me my dog back.” My hair has half fallen out of its clip, mascara probably somewhere near my temples. I look like a woman one inconvenience away from a headline.
A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Rowan’s lip. Lazy. Smug. Entirely too pleased with himself. “Now, now, that’s not how you negotiate. I taught you better than that.”
I’m going to shove him, that’s how I’m going to negotiate.
He fills the doorway in a gray T-shirt and dark sweats, barefoot, like he’s been comfortable all evening while I’ve been unraveling. Behind him, I can see warm lamplight, polished floors, and one of my hoodies already lying over the sofa. Thesight punches the air from my lungs for half a second. He really expected me to come.
“Rowan!” My patience is gone. Burned to ash somewhere around the second curb. I love this man, and I’m not planning to wait another second to spend my life with him. The realization crackles through me, suddenly simple.
“Tessa,” he drawls. “Tell me what you’ve learned from all this, and I will let you in.” He’s holding Waffles, whose good eye is closed as he strokes his head. The dog is melted against Rowan’s chest.
Traitor.
I bite my lip and huff out an exaggerated breath. My pulse is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. “I learned not to run from my problems.”
He purses his lips, considering me like a professor deciding whether partial credit applies. “That’s good, but not what I’m looking for.”
Oh my gosh. I’m going to murder him on his doorstep. Then I’m going to resurrect him and marry him.
“Give me a hint, then.” I don’t have time for these games. My entire future is idling illegally in the fire lane.
Finally, he smiles and passes me the dog. Waffles comes willingly, the little sellout, warm and sleepy and smelling faintly like Rowan’s cologne.
“Who do you belong to, Whitmore?”
The question is not meant to be ownership or control. It’s recognition. Claim. The thing I’ve been running from because wanting to belong somewhere means risking being left.
I snuggle Waffles to my face and give him a gentle squeeze before meeting Rowan’s eyes. His expression has gone still, all arrogance stripped away.
“You, Rowan King, I belong to you.” My voice shakes with the truth of it. “And you belong to me.”
Something raw flashes across his face, gone so quickly anyone else would miss it. Relief. Love so sharp it nearly cuts me open.
He opens the door wider for me to step through, but before he can, he says, “You learned that I have always loved you, and nothing and no one will ever hurt you again.”
The words land in every broken place I have.
My throat tightens. Tears sting instantly, traitorous and hot. No one has ever promised me safety like that. No one has ever looked at my damage like something worth protecting instead of avoiding.
I step over the threshold, carrying Waffles, straight into Rowan’s waiting hand at the small of my back. Behind me is the parking lot, the truck, and the years I spent running.
In front of me is home.
* * *
Do you want more Rowan and Tessa? Read their bonus scene where they discuss all things babies! Download here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/24kc0oaldt
Epilogue
Tessa
If there is one thing I have learned about Rowan King after all these years, it is this: when he is being suspiciously pleasant, my life is about to change.
“Wear the blue dress,” he says from the bathroom.
I pause halfway through applying mascara and stare at my reflection. “Why?”
