Page 131 of Let’s Be Real

She nodded. “It was a stupid plan.”

Without looking at the guy beside her, she shoved her hard hat into his hands. Her first step toward me was tentative, but then I took one toward her, and all bets were off.

We collided in a rush, arms wrapping, hands grappling. She was off the ground and in my embrace, her face in my neck, mine in her hair.

She laughed, and it was lighter than I’d remembered it ever being. Like gravity couldn’t touch her happiness.

My heart swelled, leaving no room for the doubt and nerves that had been crowding my gut. This was it. I’d come full circle, back to where I’d started, with an entirely new outlook and steady ground beneath my feet.

She pulled back to press her lips firmly to mine. “You’re really here.”

“I am. I’m really here.”

I was. Here, with her, grounded in this very moment. Not drowning in dread or consumed with worry. My mind and heart were hers entirely.

She shook her head, like she still couldn’t believe it. “God, Nate. You’re a sight for sore eyes. All I want is to bundle you up and hide you away, but I—”

“Have to work.” I set her on her feet, keeping her flush against me. “I knew that when I came here. I don’t want to get in your way, but I had to see you.”

“I did too,” she agreed. “I can give you the key to the place where I’m staying or—”

“Or. I choose or.”

She laughed. “Let me finish.”

“Fine. But my decision has already been made.”

She touched her lips to mine. “I love you so much.”

Cupping the back of her head, I smiled. “I love you too. Now, tell me about this ‘or’ you’re offering.”

“It involves sitting in my office, watching me work.”

“Will you be bossing big, tough construction workers around?”

“Probably.”

I rubbed my nose against hers then pressed our foreheads together. “There’s not much I want more than to watch you do that.”

We spent the next few days like that. I did some of my own work alongside her, but mostly, I watched her do hers. She and Adrian held conference calls with their designer, she argued with her contractors, made decisions about materials, and in between, she did her regular tasks for the club in Denver.

I did my therapy sessions over video. Samantha did hers too. Sometimes we talked about it afterward. Other times, I sat outside by myself and wrote in my journal. It was surprisingly easy to fit these things into our new normal.

In the evenings, we walked along the beach near her rental apartment. The first time she’d reached for my hand, I hadn’t thought about it until later, but it’d been a long time since we’d done that. Falling back into each other was as natural as it had always been.

At night, we had dinners at restaurants she’d been wanting to try and watched horror movies on her couch. Our conversations were light. We did a lot of looking at one another. Holding hands and snuggling.

I slept well. I had been for weeks. Night one, I fell asleep first. Samantha had been delighted to report that back to me in the morning.

Sleep was all we’d done in our bed. I wanted her more than I could even say, but I was following her lead. I could wait.

On my fourth night in California, I was in bed, and Samantha emerged from the bathroom in a silky, rose gold nightgown.

“I recognize that.” My throat was suddenly thick, my cock stirring from hibernation.

She tugged at the lace hem barely clearing the apex of her thighs. “It’s the same one I wore that night in the hotel. When you’d stolen all my comfy pajamas.”

She approached my side of the bed, stopping beside me. Her fingers slid through my hair and brushed along my jaw.