“Incredibly.” I chuckle.
“And you’re going to have to work for this.”
“Whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?” Something shifts in her eyes. “Dangerous offer.”
“I’m done being safe.”
She kisses me again. Different this time. Slower. Deeper. Like she’s trying to tell me something words can’t reach.
When she pulls back, we’re both breathing hard.
“For the record,” she says, her voice soft but steady, “I kept trying to hate you. That whole week. Tried to convince myself you were just some grumpy control freak who happened to look good in a suit.”
She thinks I look good in a suit.The thought catches me off guard, warmth spreading through my chest.
“And?” I manage, trying to sound casual when I’m anything but.
Her eyes search mine, vulnerable and honest in a way that makes my heart stutter. “And then I’d remember how you looked at George.” A small smile tugs at her lips. “The way your whole face changed when that ridiculous goat followed you around. Like you were trying so hard not to care, but you did.”
I want to protest, but she’s not done.
“How you brought me dinner that night when I was drowning in spreadsheets. You didn’t have to. I brought nothing but chaos, but you fed me. Who does that for someone they claim to barely tolerate?”
“Poppy—”
“How you quietly fixed things. How you quietly fixed things… the tent, the salmon, the guitar… How you smiled when you thought I wasn’t watching.” Her thumb traces my jaw,leaving a trail of fire. “You thought I didn’t notice, but I noticed everything.”
My throat feels tight. “I didn’t—”
Her eyes are bright with unshed tears. “A real smile. Not your polite lawyer smile or your ‘handling difficult clients’ smile. But actual joy. Like maybe I wasn’t driving you completely insane.”
“You were,” I admit. “Just not in the way I expected.”
She laughs, soft and sweet. “I’d remember how you made me feel like maybe I wasn’t too much. Like maybe all my chaos was exactly right if it made you look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I was something wonderful.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Like I was worth changing for.”
“Poppy—” My voice breaks on her name.
“I’m still mad.” She says it firmly, but her hands haven’t left my face.
“Okay.” I’ll take mad. I’ll take anything as long as she’s here.
“Really mad.”
“I deserve it.”
“But also…” She presses closer, her body fitting against mine like it was made to be there. “I missed you so much I couldn’t breathe. Coming here alone was awful; it was like losing something I never really had.”
Something in me breaks. The last wall. The final defense. Three years of carefully constructed armor just crumbles under the weight of her confession.
“Tonight, you’re mine.” The words come out raw. Possessive. Everything I’ve been holding back.
She shivers against me. “Yours.” The single word is a promise, a surrender, a claim of her own.
