Page 178 of My Unfinished Heart

“Why are you doing it then? The painting?”

He takes a breath, letting it out in a sigh as he stares at the ring. “You finally said you love me. I’ve waited a really long time to hear that.”

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to say it back. That was a big moment for me.”

“You didn’t really give me a chance to. Of course I love you. I’ve been in love with you my entire life.” He makes a little noise of impatience. “Are you gonna put it on my finger or what?”

I laugh, looking at his outstretched hand. “You’re shaking.”

“I know.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Of course not. You?” he asks.

“I’m good.” I slide the ring onto his finger and kiss his cheek while he studies his hand. He moves it this way and that, watching the way it catches the noon light.

“Do you like it?”

With the same hand, he touches my cheek, stroking it with his fingertips. He gives me a soft kiss. “I’m gonna make you crazy.”

“I want you to.”

“But there’s never gonna be anyone else who loves you more than I do.”

My throat feels thick, and then my hands do start to shake. “I know,” I whisper.

He kisses me again, this time wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in tight. “How did I get you?” he asks, and I can taste a tear on his lips.

“White boxer briefs and a pair of scissors,” I say.

He laughs, his forehead pressing into mine, his hands clutching the back of my neck. Our lips touch, and my heart—oh man…my heart…

“Why aren’t you kissing me?” he whispers while every feeling I’ve ever had for him—good and bad—goes off like fireworks in my mind.

“Because kissing you isn’t the only thing… So much of it is just you. I missed you all the time.”

The sharp rise and fall of his chest gets me. I would call it a sob, but it isn’t. It’s something more like relief. More like a release. I kiss the corner of his mouth and the tip of his nose.

Then the other corner of his mouth.

His fingertips press into my spine between my shoulder blades.

“I’m gonna do it if you won’t,” he says.

“I’ll do it. Just give me a second.”

He kisses my cheek and the space between my eyes. He runs his hands through my hair. Both hands at the same time. No one else has ever had a prayer with me.

I could pull away to look at him, but there is no inch between us I’m willing to sacrifice. My hands tremble as they drive through his perfectly styled golden hair to hold his head in my hands. When his lips part in a sigh, I catch them with my own, drawing him closer to me with every breath and movement of my mouth.

He is water. He’s everything I need.

He moves to take a deeper breath, and his pale eyes lock on mine—taking me over again. The effect they have on me is nothing less than it was four years ago.

I am nothing less than his. It’s who I’ve always been.

We kiss deeply and adoringly as a silent understanding fills the small space between us. A new promise.