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I stare at him. This big, grumpy, impossible man. Who just gave me his heart. Literally. It’s hanging around my neck.

“You love me?”

His eyebrows draw together.

“Was I unclear?”

I laugh.

“No. You were actually very clear. Shockingly clear. I’m just making sure.”

“I love you, Noelle.”

There it is again. Three simple words. That essentially turn my world on its axis.

I throw my arms around his neck.

He catches me with a surprised grunt.

“I love you too.”

He goes still. Completely still.

I pull back enough to look at him.

“I love you, Maverick Kane. I love your son. I love your ridiculous house and your bossy personality and the fact that you pretend to hate Christmas when you secretly love every second of it.”

“I really don’t⁠—”

“You wore the pajamas.”

His mouth closes.

“Exactly.”

I smile.

“I love you. And I don’t need more time to figure that out.”

Something changes in his face. Something so tender it nearly undoes me.

Then he kisses me. And oh my goodness. I could get used to being kissed like this.

Like I’m precious. Like I’m wanted. Like I’m his.

When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathing a little harder.

“There’s one more thing,” he says.

I blink.

“There’s more?”

“Bryant is drawing up a new contract.”

I freeze.

“A new contract?”