Page 30 of Flawless

“You okay?” she asked, side-eyeing me. “That wasn’t weird for you, was it? All the people asking for autographs?”

“It’ll take some getting used to,” I admitted as we walked through the sliding doors to the parking lot. “But this is your life, babe. Your music is your passion and gives you purpose, so whatever I have to deal with is worth it.”

She tugged on my hand, bringing us both to a stop. “The fact that you get me, already, blows my mind. You know what matters to me and why, and you’re willing to make sacrifices because you know my music… saved me.”

I let go of her suitcase and hauled her against my chest, holding her close while I collected myself. Thinking about the upbringing she’d had, and all that she’d needed to be saved from, made me realize music was more than her career.

It was her medicine. Her therapy. Her reason for being.

She rolled forward on her toes, kissing me. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“Just accepting me for who and what I am. Nobody’s ever really done that before. And it means a lot.”

Her words had the ability to break me or piece me back together. No wonder she was an award-winning singer/songwriter already. She’d tapped into her gift and wasn’t afraid to use it. Professionally and personally.

“You mean a lot to me.” My voice sounded too gruff to play it off like her words meant nothing, so I cleared my throat. “And that means the things you love matter to me. Because seeing you happy is becoming one of my top priorities.”

She dropped her head, resting her forehead against my chest. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I said last night, about my career having to be my top priority for the foreseeable future.”

“I get that, baby. You don’t have to explain.”

When I tried to walk away, she fisted my jacket in her hands and hauled me back. “But I think I do. Because in hindsight, that came out all wrong. See, I don’t think I get to choose what my top priority is. I think life is choosing it for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, my top priority would be the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. That used to be my career. Now it’s you.” She shrugged, looking adorably uncertain. “I’m not sure how that happened. I just know that’s been my reality since I met you.”

She was killing me. Making me weak when I prided myself on being strong. But I wanted more of this feeling.

“I feel exactly the same way,” I said, kissing her softly.

There were people coming and going, and I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to me now was this woman, and erasing any doubts she had about us.

“I love this feeling,” she whispered. “The way I feel when I’m with you. The only other time I’ve ever experienced a high like this is when I take the stage.” She looked up at me through a veil of long lashes before she asked, “What do you think that means, Sheriff?”

I knew what I wanted it to mean. I wanted it to mean she was falling in love with me, because I was pretty damn sure I was falling in love with her. But she’d told me no one had ever said those three little words to her, and I didn’t want her to hear them for the first time standing in the parking lot of an airport.

“I think it means we’re building something real here. Something that could last.”

And I wanted that more with every passing day.

I had to admit, my sister had been right. Rylee fell in love with my house, claiming she could make it her home away from home, if I wasn’t stingy with the invites. As far as I was concerned, every square foot of my house already had her stamp all over it.

The table where we’d had the surf and turf I’d grilled for dinner. The living room where we’d curled up in front of the fire, talking about our high school years. The porch where we’d watched the sunset over a bottle of red wine. And now the bed where I was laying her down.

I knew every time my head hit the pillow from now on, I’d catch a whiff of her scent, hear her sultry voice, and see her curled up in my duvet, looking like an angel while she slept.

But right now, sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. I’d been waiting all week to make love to her again and I couldn’t wait another second.

I was crawling over her, pinning her with my weight, as I kissed her neck, whispering in her ear, “I can’t get enough of you. Pretty sure I’m addicted.”

Her laugh was husky as her nails glided over my back. “That’s an addiction I can get behind.”

I’d already pleasured her and she’d returned the favor. We’d gotten the desperation of first releases out of the way, making room for something deeper, slower, even more intimate as we locked eyes before I kissed her.

Letting go of the angst of the past week, I felt the stress melt away as she deepened the kiss, pulling me closer, wrapping her legs around my waist as she moaned into my mouth.