I’m not sure I believe her. “Really? You don’t? Why do I find that hard to believe?”
When she looks at me, her head shakes, and I see the honest confusion in her eyes. “I’m not always meddling around, you know. Such little faith in me.”
Huffing a laugh, I push my door open to the crisp November evening air, grabbing the bag of döners Gran and I picked up. It was the first time in four days I’ve been out of the house after spending nearly forty-eight hours in the hospital after the fire. It felt good to get out and do something after so long. Truthfully, I was ready to get out yesterday, but Gran and Wyatt ganged up on me, begging me to wait another day.
And the outing I got wasn’t exactly long. A drive around town, finding dinner for the three of us, and then coming home. But it wasn’t the same four walls, so I’m not unhappy about it, andit was a good compromise to ease the two worriers.
Not that I blame either of them. I know what it feels like to be on the side that they’ve now had to live. It’s not an easy place to be.
Walking along the side of the house with Gran, we both stop at the same time when we come around the corner. In unison, we gasp.
Backyard lights are strung from the house over the deck, casting a warm yellow glow on the patio furniture below. Lanterns are set around the space, making it cozy and inviting, while two heat lamps glow on either side of the main sitting area.
That isn’t the magnificent part of it, though. The lanterns continue through the rest of the backyard, into the foliage and along the rocks lining the pond, up the waterfall, illuminating the entire area.
Wyatt stands at the top, cowboy hat on his head, black t-shirt he had on earlier now covered by his sherpa-lined jean jacket. His arm moves and my heart stops, knowing exactly what he’s doing when it disappears behind a post.
The switch for the fountain.
Reaching out, I grab Gran’s arm, hand sliding down until it reaches hers. The moment they meet and clasp together, the waterfall springs to life, cascading a wall of water down into the pond.
The trail of water is enough to have my eyes filling with tears, the same way the pond is refilling with water.
He did it. He got it to work.
Grandpa’s fountain is alive and well, and my heart has never felt so much like exploding.
My feet are carrying me before my mind catches up. Dropping the bag of dinner on the loveseat, I sprint towards the rock stairwellto lead me up to where Wyatt is. He’s on his way down before I hit the first step, catching me in his arms as I leap into them.
“You did it,” I squeal, ducking into his neck to avoid his hat with a mix of excitement and raw emotion. “You fixed it.”
“A labor of love,” he whispers into my hair, one arm gripping me tightly around the waist, the other at the back of my head, cradling me to him. “For my love.”
His love. He might as well have said he loves me, something he’s held back and forced me to keep inside. Every time I’ve gone to tell him over the past few days, he’s silenced me with a kiss, a finger to my lips, or some excited shout about the dumbest thing, making it clear he wanted to wait.
Tears slide down my cheeks as I pull back enough to find his gaze. “You don’t get to make me wait anymore, Wyatt Dalton. I love you.”
Setting me down on the stair above him, we’re eye to eye, his hands coming to my face. “Perfect timing.”
His lips are on mine a second later, claiming me like he claimed me at the auction. Fully and thoroughly. Breathing more life into me than any oxygen possibly could. His mouth caresses mine in a dance that makes me want to sing and laugh and tell him more, more, more for hours on end. If I asked, I know he would give me more of anything within his power. This man has not stopped giving since the moment I met him, and I want to give him all of me back.
When he ends the kiss, dropping a couple of more onto my lips for good measure, his head lifts only enough to look into my eyes.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” I tell him before he can say a word back.
“It’s—”
Pressing a finger to his lips, I shake my head. “Thank you for loving me through it. For being a comforting presence without being a force. You gave me the time and space to get here on my own, and it makes me love you that much more for it.”
He takes my hand and gently places it over the tattoo beneath his shirt. “I would have waited the rest of my life for you, B. I know I came to California to be a firefighter, but truth is—” his hand presses mine deeper into his chest, “I think I came here looking for my hope. And I found her.”
His thumb catches a tear as it streaks down my cheek. “I love you, too.”
Pulling him back to me with my free hand, I kiss him again, my stomach diving on a flight of butterflies. When he pulls me closer, his grip suddenly tightening, I think nothing of it until I’m being dipped sideways towards the ground. It has me gasping into the kiss, my heart skipping more than one beat, but he never lets his lips leave mine, despite my laughter bubbling up between us.
When he rights us, finally ending the kiss, I feel breathless and weak in the knees, just like he promised, and it makes me cling to him. Something his smile tells me he wanted all along.
“That better have been a preview of what’s to come,” I whisper to him.
