“So . . .” I frown as I try to work out where we go from here. “What do you want to happen now?”

“I want to be with you,” he replies without hesitation. “In a . . .” He swallows again.

I cut him off. “Relationship?”

He nods. “I want to try.”

Silence . . .

Still not a commitment . . . but maybe a promise.

I know I shouldn’t, but I see him, the beautiful man I fell for, lost as he tries to navigate the world. Henley is a good man, deep down. I’ve always known that. He doesn’t want to live like this. He’s had no other option.

I cup his face in my hand. “On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You be honest with me from here on in.”

His eyes search mine.

“I need to know what’s going on in your head, or we won’t make it, Hen.”

A trace of a smile crosses his face as he takes my hand in his.

I smile, too, and in that moment, I know it’s going to be okay between us.

“Kiss me,” I whisper. He leans over and kisses me. His face screws up against mine as if overwhelmed with emotion.

My beautiful, tortured king, so messed up.

So fucking lovable.

An ocean of vulnerability swimming between us.

“Henley.” I put my hand under his chin and bring his face to mine. “We can do this.”

He closes his eyes as if to block me out.

“Hen,” I demand. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

He drags his eyes open.

“Love me back,” I whisper. “Like I know you can.” I kiss him softly. My tongue gently swipes through his open lips, and I kiss him again. “I just need you to always be honest with me. If something is bothering you, just tell me.”

His kiss deepens, and then, as if remembering something, he pulls back to look at me. “Are we starting the honesty thing right now?”

I nod. “Uh-huh.”

“Then take it off.”

“What?” I frown.

“The makeup that you put on for him.”

It bothers him that I’m all dressed up to go on a date with another man.

I would be too.

“You mean the makeup I put on while I was thinking of you?” I smile softly.

He points upstairs. “Wash it off. All of it.”

“I’m going to need to take a shower.”

“Probably.” He narrows his eyes as he acts serious.

Excitement rushes through my veins. “You’re going to need to get in with me to help.”

“Definitely.”

We stare at each other, excitement buzzing between us, the air crackling with promise.

“I’m going to fuck you so good that you don’t remember your name.” He bends and, in one swift movement, picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. I laugh as we take the stairs.

His step falters halfway up.

“You regretting this decision to carry me now, Mr. Strong?” I smile as I hang upside down with my hands on his behind.

“Little bit,” he puffs.

I laugh out loud, and he slaps me on the behind. “No talking.”

“I’m laughing.”

He slaps me again. “No laughing either.”

We get to the bathroom, and he slides me down his body. We fall silent as we stare at each other.

And this is it, the beginning of us, the real beginning.

At least I hope it is. It better fucking be.

He takes my dress off over my shoulders and throws it to the side. He undoes my bra and then slides my panties down my legs. His eyes drop and linger on my naked body, and I want to please him so badly. Do everything I can to make it up to him, because I hate that I have makeup on for another man too.

I pull his T-shirt off over his head and then slide down the zipper on his jeans. I’m blessed with the sight of his large cock as it springs free.

Then all control is lost. He pulls me in, under the water, and we kiss like long-lost lovers.

Because that’s how it feels.

The last six weeks have been a living hell without him in my arms.

He pins me to the wall, and as we kiss, his body instinctively slides deep into mine. We both moan deeply as arousal takes over.

I thought the first time we did this it was going to be this big mad foreplay session with all the bells and whistles . . . but every time with Henley is all the bells and whistles.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He smiles against my lips and pumps me deeper. “You fucking better.” I laugh, loud and free, and he does too.

We’re back, baby . . .

We lie in silence. Exhausted doesn’t come close. We made love in the shower, all tender and sweet, and then we fucked like animals as he showed me exactly who I belong to.

It’s him. It’s always been him . . .

“It’s the little things,” he whispers as we stare up at the ceiling.

I look over to him in surprise.

“It’s the way your smile drops my stomach.”

Oh . . .

“The way you crunching ice with your teeth infuriates me, but I never say anything because somehow I find it endearing.”

I smile into the darkness.

“It’s the way you glow in the refrigerator light at midnight when you’re looking for ice cream,” he murmurs as his eyes stay glued to the ceiling.

“How do I glow?” I ask.

“Just-fucked and perfect.”

My heart swells.

“It’s the way I think about you all day.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s the way I watch for your car to come home all night.”

Is he being romantic?

“The way I kind of like your dog, but I can’t tell you because then you will know that you have me in the palm of your hand.”

Unexpectedly, emotion overwhelms me, and I get a lump in my throat as I watch him.

He rolls on his side, and his eyes finally meet mine. “It’s the way I can’t stand the thought of sleeping with anyone else.”

“I like that one.” I smile.

He smiles too. “Oh . . . that’s the only one you like?”

I giggle and kiss his big, beautiful lips. His arm comes around me, and I snuggle my head into his chest.

“It’s the way I was so upset that you didn’t want to see me anymore that I ran over your plants with the mower.”

“You had to go ruin it and bring that up . . . didn’t you?” I mutter dryly. “You were going so well.”

He chuckles and kisses my temple and holds me close.

“Don’t let me fuck this up,” he says softly. “Tell me if I get too close to the line.”

“Oh, I will, and for the record, if you ever run over a plant of mine with the mower again, I’m running over you with it.”

“Deal.” He smiles.

We lie in silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts.

“Good night, my beautiful Juliet,” he whispers. “Thanks for waiting for me to get here . . .”

My heart swells at his newfound vulnerability. “You were worth the wait.”

Midnight, the magical hour

I lie and stare at the man beside me as he sleeps.

He’s on his back, the white blanket pooled around his lower stomach. His broad naked body is on display.

I watch as his chest rises . . . holds, and then gently falls. I’ve been lying here watching him for two hours. My protective instincts have kicked in, and I just want to care for him. To make him feel loved and safe.