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All during the drive here, my heart has been thumping insistently, telling me we’re here for that special reason… the reason I hardly dare let myself think. If my mind goes to that crazy place, it will all shatter.
It will all come crashing down.
But the sight of that giant red ribbon inspires even more glittering speculation inside of me, tears threatening to touch my cheeks as I glance over at Braden.
He sits upright in his steel-colored suit, a curious tension in his body, his jaw, the same tightness that has been there during the whole drive over.
I’ve tried not to let myself read too much into the way his jaw has tightened, his temples pulsed, his eyes flitting here and there instead of staring straight at me like he usually does.
Not while he’s driving, of course, but normally at red lights he’ll turn and gaze at me, his possessive penetrating eyes burning through me, making me feel naked even when I’m clothed.
Making me want to be naked at the next available opportunity.
He brings the car to a stop right next to the gate, finally turning to me. But his expression isn’t one I recognize, filled with a thousand battling wants and needs.
It’s normally like he’s trying to hold himself back. And far from making me want to run – far from hissing in my ear that I’m not going to be able to fulfill his animal desires – lately I’ve been able to return the look with a sassy expression of my own.
Now there’s something like a smile playing on his lips. For a crazy impossible second, I think a tear is going to slide down his cheek.
“Come on.”
His lips twitch as he reaches over and strokes a hand through my hair.
I freaking love it when he does that, the reaction sends a fluttering all over my body.
It’s like we’re always on the edge of descending – or maybe it’s ascending – into the frantic fusion of our bodies. It’s like every second is a constant struggle to keep the more carnal aspects of ourselves at bay.
But then he lets his hand drop and steps from the car. He doesn’t lean in and kiss me like he usually does.
This is it, my heart sings. The moment you’ve been waiting for. He’s going to say it. He’s going to say he loves you. This is it.
I push away the thoughts as I climb from the car, following him over to the gate with the giant red ribbon.
Peering through the gate, I see a sold sign stuck into the lawn.
“What do you think of your new home?” he whispers close behind me, his warm breath shivering over my skin.
I gasp and turn to find him smiling down at me, well and truly smiling now. There’s no grim twist to his lips, no ironic smirk. He’s smiling like I never imagined he could, not in real life.
He’s smiling at me like he used to from the cruddy TV in the orphanage, when I’d pause the movie so I could gaze at him, at this man who would only ever been known to me through pop culture, the man I’d never meet.
And yet now he’s here.
And he’s mine.
I wish I could slink back through time and tell the shy scared version of me to hang in there. It’s all going to get better. Her wildest dreams are going to come true one day.
“Our new home?” I whisper.
His smile widens as he leans down, taking my hands in his and squeezing softly, without the usual underlying implication that he’s going to crush me with his animal strength.
He’s holding himself back.
But why?
Is this just about the house, or is there more?
I warn myself not to expect too much.
Heck, a mansion in Calabasas is more than I ever could’ve dreamed of before.
“Our new home,” he snarls, his lips so close to mine my whole body buzzes with the desire to kiss him. “That’s why I’ve waited so long to tell you, Bria. I wanted to finalize the purchase and tell you – ask you – somewhere meaningful. You have no idea how difficult it’s been to hold myself back.”
“What do you mean?” I murmur.
“Don’t you know?”
His hand slides from my hand, up my arm, whispering across my skin as he brings his touch to my cheek. He cradles my face for a moment, as I turn toward him, savoring the feeling of his palm against my skin. There’s so much heat, so much intense belonging, so much rightness.
“I love you,” he says passionately.
I gasp again, breathy, the noise weighty with my disbelief.
“I love you,” he says again, laughing as though a weight has just been lifted from him. “So, so much. I love you. And not being able to tell you has been eating me up inside.”
“You love me,” I repeat, thinking for a crazy second I’ve misheard him.
