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“A gift for you. He had me drop him off at a little a farm stand about half a mile from here. He wanted to come back with something for you. Something nice. He said he was sick of not knowing he was about to see you and being empty-handed. This time he was going to be prepared.”
It took longer than it should have for her mind to shift gears. The strangle-hold of fear didn’t release all at once. It was gradual before she could breathe again.
With the tension finally beginning to ebb from her shoulders, Rose watched as Mick and Gio prepared to leave. They had a rendezvous with Kenan to update him on everything, including the latest on Topeka's situation. The day, which had started with an overbearing cloak of dread, now seemed to soften around the edges.
“We’ll be back in the morning,” Mick said and gave Rose a reassuring nod as he and Gio headed out, leaving her with a slice of solitude and the anticipation of Harry's return.
Half an hour felt like a lifetime as Rose waited, her gaze fixed on the path that Harry would walk back to her. And then, there he was. Harry's form came into view, his walk determined despite the clear signs of weariness. In his arms, he carried an impromptu collection of gifts—a bottle of wine, a bundle of flowers, and some fresh fruit.
His clothes were dusty, his appearance rugged from the trials of the night, but to Rose, he had never looked more heroic. She fought the urge to run to him, to close the distance with a sprint that matched her racing heart. Instead, she waited on the porch, wanting to fully savor the moment—the sight of this man who had gone through hell and back, not just for her, but with her.
As Harry approached, a small, exhausted smile played across his lips. He ascended the steps to the porch, and finally, Rose allowed herself to move. She took the gifts from his arms, setting them aside, her hands lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.
"Harry," she said, her voice soft with emotion, "you didn't have to bring anything."
Harry's smile widened, reaching his tired eyes. "I wanted to," he replied. "I wanted this time—our reunion—to be different. Tobe something more than the aftermath of danger. I know it’s crazy to think we might actually have a normal moment, but on my darkest days, this was what I pictured for us. A quiet little spot, some good wine, and nothing to worry about."
“Did you think it would be in Italy?”
“No,” he replied with a chuckle. “I also didn’t think my ribs would be bruised and I’d be running on next to no sleep. But at least we have the wine.”
Rose stepped closer, closing the gap between them, her hand reaching up to touch the stubble on his cheek, rough and real. "You being here, safe, that's more than enough. But thank you," she whispered.
Harry leaned into her touch, his hand covering hers on his cheek. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he murmured, his voice gravelly with fatigue and emotion.
For a long moment, they stood there, clearly not wanting to jinx or ruin the moment. When nothing terrible happened, she made sure something wonderful did. Stepping onto her tiptoes, she kissed him. This time, it wasn’t frantic and fleeting. It wasn’t something that came before what might be the end. It was much more, something that felt like a beginning.
“I need a shower,” he whispered in a husky voice as he reluctantly pulled away from her.
“What a coincidence, so do I.” She raised up a tantalizing brow and led him into the house. They’d come back for the wine and the flowers. Right now, all she craved was hot water, his body, and a day and night that might stretch on forever.
CHAPTER 26
Wanting something had never really worked out for Rose. She’d been intentionally not daydreaming of things or holding out hope. But wanting Harry, having him fill her and bring her to ecstasy had been a vision she’d allowed herself to indulge in. Now the house was theirs. The mood was set. And it finally felt like a possibility.
“Rose, you’ve been through hell and the last thing I want?—”
“Please shut up,” Rose said, her face serious, making Harry instantly look confused. “I don’t want to talk about whether this is a good or bad time. I don’t want to ponder if I’m ready or in the right place. My body is telling me, I’m ready for you.” She stripped her clothes away and turned the handles of the shower until steaming water poured out. “I don’t want to know where my mind lands on this. Just my body.”
Reaching for his belt and his tattered blood-stained shirts, she stripped him down just as quickly. Landing kisses on his lips in between each item of clothes she took from him.
“I know, I just...” He tried again but she silenced him with a firm grip, there was no doubt he was clearly ready too. With a hunger that seemed to erupt out of nowhere he grabbed at her legs and lifted her effortlessly. Stepping into the hot water, itpounded down over them. Tingling and pulsing, her core ached for his touch and he obliged.
His fingers flitted over her most tender spots. A man who’d had to kill to keep her alive. Who could take a punch and fight for his life yet was so tender with her body, it shocked her. And that tenderness was what she craved.
Their passion could have exploded into a fiery and physical torrent of movements. Pent-up lust and desire could have made Harry rushed and frantic. Mindlessly forceful. But it didn’t.
Every swirl of his tongue against her body was measured. Just enough. The perfect pressure. It wasn’t until he was on his knees, the water pouring down his back, that his touch became urgent, matching her panting desire.
His tongue explored her with precision, pausing and parking exactly in the spot that made her toes curl and her body quiver. Bringing her to ecstasy seemed effortless for him, his hands wrapped around her thighs as she burst with sheer gratification.
It was something she wanted to repay instantly. A look she wanted to pull from him while their eyes locked. And as he stood and thrust inside her, she had the view she was hungry for. He stared with turbulent eyes and deep intensity as he brought her again to ecstasy and this time joined her.
They rode the wave together, breathless and both looking nearly shocked by the magnitude of their eruptions.
She’d imagined this. Hoped for it. Longed for it. And yet somehow even her imagination hadn’t conjured something this amazing.
“I’ve waited so long to be in your arms,” she said in a raspy voice, clinging tightly to him still.
