Page 144 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

“Yes, let’s not,” Cross agreed. “That’s an important skill to have, babe. I think you would agree.”

“I do; that’s why I put it in the list. These are just a few things you’re good at, excel in, or have, Cross. A few. I could keep going. It’s a little unfair, that’s all.”

“How so?”

“I don’t think my list would match up, to be honest. Also, no one stands a chance against you. No one has ever even come close to me compared to you. I was unprepared for that—for you. You need to come with a warning, Cross.”

“Catherine, come on.”

She ticked off things about herself, too. “I’m rich, pretty, and I can hustle like nobody’s business. That’s about it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said.

“No. That’s the truth.”

Didn’t she know how amazing she was?

Cross had news for her.

“Catherine, you’re also smart, strong, you love, you’ve survived, and I can keep going. You’ve done those things, or been those things, on your own. You did miss something on your list, though.”

“What?” she asked.

“You’re mine, my girl.”

Catherine blinked.

Cross smiled.

Then, he leaned over and kissed her hard enough to make his heart race. His tongue dived between her parted lips, and he got a taste of her heat clashing against his. He loved how she kissed him back, and never shied away; how she let him own her with it. His hand cupped her throat while his arm snaked around her waist. He wanted her closer, so he pulled her across the bench until she was straddling his lap.

“You’re mine,” Cross said again. His thumb stroked the column of her throat, and his lips brushed against hers. “That means everything that I am is already yours, Catherine. It’s always been yours.”

“I came home,” she whispered.

He kissed her again, until his lungs burned with the need for air. His hands skimmed over her shoulders because he wanted to feel her in his palms. “You did. That’s scary for you, isn’t it? The thought that I might break your heart again.”

“A bit.”

“A bit?”

“A lot,” she admitted.

“I won’t, though,” he promised.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“You better.”

She tipped her head back, and her waves of hair tumbled over her shoulders. He enjoyed the sight of his hand slipping lower on her throat, and the feel of his fingertips overtop her pulse point. His thumb fit perfectly into the little hollow of her throat. When she hummed, it vibrated against the digit like a musical note would from the keys of his piano.

Catherine undid the last three buttons on Cross’s dress shirt. He’d already unbuttoned the top three, and rolled up his sleeves earlier when he sat down at the piano. Her warm hands stroked down his chest. She used the very tip of her finger to trace the script-style lettering of his tattoo on his ribcage.

“It’s like love was your religion.”

“No.”

Catherine’s gaze jumped up to his. “No?”