Page 150

She was right.

He was a problem.

But he ended up being the kind of problem she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

They stepped into their apartment, because it was officially theirs. Biscuit followed them inside, circling the final box before settling beside the couch.

Claire looked around. Her mugs were already in the cabinet. Her books were on the shelves. Her blanket was folded across the couch, and her shoes waited beside Noah’s by the door.

Nothing looked particularly different. And yet everything was.

Noah reached for her hand. His wedding ring caught the light. “Welcome home, wife.”

Claire smiled. “I’ve been home for a while.”

Something in his expression softened. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “You have.”

He drew her closer, one hand settling at her waist and the other still holding her hand. Claire rested her palm against his chest, still not entirely used to the feeling of his wedding band beneath her fingers when he covered her hand with his.

“Husband,” she said, still getting used to it.

Noah smiled. “Say it again.”

“You’re needy.”

“I’ve waited a long time.”

“Husband,” she repeated.

He kissed her before she could tease him again. The kiss began softly, familiar despite everything that had changed. Then Claire curled her fingers into his shirt and pulled him closer, and Noah’s hand moved gently to the back of her neck.

There was no uncertainty in it. No wondering what came next. No couch they had to settle for at the end of the night. No apartment door separating their lives.

Just Noah.

Her husband.

Their home.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers. “Still think a different solution to the couch issue would’ve been more efficient?” he asked.

She glanced at the couch. “I am never sleeping on that thing again.”

“That was the plan.”

“Your solution was extremely elaborate.”

“You said you wanted a more efficient system.”

“Most people would have bought a second bed. Or moved into a two-bedroom apartment. Or abandoned their principles and started sharing one.”

“Officially living together didn’t seem wise either.” Noah laughed softly and kissed her again. “I committed.”

“Noah, I slept on your couch more nights than not. What was the difference?”

“A couch felt less official than a bed.” His mouth curved. “And I have excellent self-control.”

Claire raised an eyebrow.