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“I still haven’t forgiven you for the sabotage of my laptop, though,” she said lightly. “That was kind of low.”
“I didn’t realize Eldon was going to do that,” he told her. “I just wanted him to delay you.”
“Oh, he delayed me all right. Killed my contract dead in the water.”
Hunter winced, but his fingers stroked the back of her hand. He still held her palm to his cheek, as if fearful that if he released her, she’d slip out of his grasp again. “The files were recovered, by the way. I can send you the information.”
She shrugged. “I’m a lot happier without writing, honestly. It’s not a profession I’m very good at. The constant deadlines drive me crazy, and if I have to write one more astronaut story I just might jump off your balcony. Without the contracts, I’m pretty broke but I’m also a lot happier—and less stressed—than I’ve been in a long time.”
“Preston will be sorry to hear that. He contacted me the other day and suggested that if you didn’t want to do the epistolary novel that perhaps you’d be interested in doing a cookbook. He loved your cooking at the dinner party.”
“A cookbook, huh?” She gave him a skeptical look. “Your idea?”
He grinned and released her hand. “It was all him, I’m afraid. For once, I had nothing to do with it.”
“I’ll think about it,” she told him softly, though in her mind she was already racing through her favorite recipes. Well, she’d let Hunter stew on it for a bit before deciding. Gretchen reached forward and slid a finger along Hunter’s lapel. “So what about the letters?”
He leaned into her touch, stepping forward. His hands went to her shoulders. “They were simply a means to an end.”
“Were they real? All those dirty, naughty things they wrote to each other?”
“They were real,” he told her. “Just not in this house.”
“I’m glad. I like to think that those two were crazy in love for so long and that they eventually get together. They do, don’t they? Get together and have a happy ever after?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t read far enough.”
She snuggled into his embrace, sighing. “I like to think that they did. I feel like the
ir story is ours, just a little. Two lovers separated and reunited.”
“Their story’s not ours,” he told her in a husky voice, his fingers brushing at a lock of her hair. “I want us to make our story, not follow someone else’s.”
Her heart melted a little at that, and she curled her fingers into his jacket, tugging him close enough to kiss her. “You hurt me bad, you know.”
“I’m changing. For you, I’ll change everything I am.” His intense gaze swept over her face. “I meant it, Gretchen. I love you. It doesn’t matter to me if you love me or not. Just stay.”
“Well, it’s a good thing for you that I love you, too.”
His eyes warmed. He brushed a finger along her jawline. “Do you mean it?”
She thwacked him on the shoulder. “We’re going to have to get past this trust thing. Of course I mean it. Why would I lie to you after all this?”
A wide grin crossed his face. “I just never thought I would be so lucky.” His fingers moved over her lips and he pressed a kiss to her mouth.
It was a soft, gentle kiss, and it was over far too soon. All it did was stoke a fire in her belly that was impossible to put out. She moaned when he pulled away. “You want to see how lucky you can be?” she murmured to him.
“Always.”
She took his hand and led him toward the greenhouse.
As soon as they shut the door behind them, he wrapped an arm around her waist. She closed her eyes and leaned into his embrace, taking in the lush scents of the rows upon rows of roses and the smell of damp earth.
“Tell me I am not dreaming,” Hunter whispered against her neck, pressing kisses there. “That you’re truly in my arms and I’m forgiven.”
“I’ll just pinch you instead,” she told him playfully, sliding out of his arms and turning to face him. “Got a preference as to where?”
“Don’t care.” He grasped her hips and pulled her against him so she could feel the hard length of his desire against her. “I want you, Gretchen. So badly.”
