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I grunt. “You wouldn’t have said that six months ago,” I remind her.
She smiles and rises to her toes, touching her mouth to mine. “I wouldn’t have,” she murmurs against my lips. “But I’m not that person anymore.”
Raising my hand, I grip her hair with my fingers, tugging on the strands and forcing her neck to arch. Looking directly into her eyes, I think about the past. The man I was versus the man I am today. I am not the same, so how can I ever expect to assume that she would be?
Leaning over her, I touch my lips to hers, but I don’t deepen the kiss. My mouth pressed to hers, I speak, my words low and my tone even. She needs to realize that I’m being completely serious in this moment.
“I’m not the man I was before you left. I’m yours, Reese. And you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” she breathes.
“Damn fucking straight.”
Slamming my mouth against hers, I kiss her hard and swiftly before I take a step backward. I lace my fingers through hers and tug her behind me as I guide us toward the car. When we reach the passenger side, she tugs on my hand. Stopping, I turn to her slightly.
“My answer is that I like the house we have just fine. It’s a good place to start.”
“Then that’s where we’ll start,” I murmur.
She presses her lips together, rolling them a few times. “I thought it was a safe house?”
Shrugging a shoulder, I open the car door. “I lied. I bought it for you.”
ChapterThirty-Five
REESE
As we pullup to the curb, something switches inside of me. This house isn’t just a place to stay. This is our home. It’s as if I see it in a completely different light. The paint is a little brighter, the grass greener. This is where I will bring this baby home. This is where I will fall in love with Lance over and over again.
This is home.
“You’re good here, buttercup?” Lance asks, his voice sounding hesitant.
I turn from the house, my eyes find his, and I dip my chin in a single nod. “So good,” I confess.
I didn’t know I could feel whole like this. The anxiety I once felt, the anxiousness of what could be lurking around each corner, isn’t there. The peace that flows through me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
Lance cups my cheek for a brief moment before he leans forward and touches his mouth to mine. His hand falls away almost as soon as it touches my face, then the driver’s door opens and he is jogging around the front of the car and reaching for the door handle.
I slip out of the car and stand, and he’s right there, my hand in his as he guides me away from the car, slamming the door behind me. Hand in hand, we walk up to the front door, but before we reach it, I watch as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.
He doesn’t call anyone, but it’s clear he’s texting, though I’m not sure who. I start to ask him, then decide he probably wouldn’t tell me, so I close my mouth and roll my lips together a few times.
“Texted Volt to let him know where the car is and that the keys are under the mat of the house. Figured he could have a prospect pick it up or something,” he murmurs as he releases my hand and lifts the front doormat to drop the keys there before he lets it fall with a light thud against the wooden porch.
I bite the inside of my cheek, shocked he said anything to me about it. Nodding, I clear my throat. “Okay,” I whisper.
“Figured we wouldn’t be leaving this house unless we absolutely had to, which is sometime tomorrow late morning, early afternoon. I gotta go to the clubhouse, and I’m sure you’re ready to get a real look at the salon and get your shit all set up for business.”
He’s right. I don’t want to leave the house anytime soon.
Except the idea of leaving his side causes my heart to slam against my chest. Over and over until I feel like I want to claw my own skin. Sucking in a breath, I hold it for a moment before I let it out slowly.
I try to calm myself down. Lance doesn’t seem to notice. He opens the door to the house and stands aside to allow me to pass. I try my best to act normal, but I’m not sure how I’m even walking. My heart is pounding, my throat feels like it’s closing, and I’m struggling to breathe.
This cannot be good, like, at all.
Stumbling, I make my way to the sofa and sink down on the edge of the cushion as I try to force myself to breathe. I tell myself over and over to inhale and exhale, but it doesn’t seem to be working. I can’t see anything. My vision has gone completely dark, and I begin to panic even more.
