“I can’t believe you ever slept with me. I was such an as—”
The hand moved from his forehead to cover his mouth. “You don’t have to feel sorry for me. That’s not why I told you my story on the plane.”
“Do you feel sorry for me?”
“Well, I…” Her mouth opened and closed. “No,” she said. “I don’t.”
“We’ve both lived through some horrific stuff. But I think we turned out pretty damned well.”
She kept studying his eyes, as if expecting to read the truth there. He cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Winifred Bellamy. I love your passion for life and your unflinching courage. I love the way your body welcomes mine. I love how you met my family and fit right in and saw past the craziness to the bond we all share. You’re part of that now. Wolff Mountain claimed you. I’m claiming you. Say you’ll marry me. We can wait six months or a year. If it will make you feel better about things. But I won’t change my mind.”
“What if I just say yes because I want to be part of your big, wonderful wolf pack?”
“Are you saying yes?” A grin spilled over his face.
“Perhaps.”
“Then I think I could live with it. But I’d like to know, Winnie. For the record. Do you love me?”
Their gazes locked. Her pause bothered him more than it should.
Finally, she smiled through her tears. “You know I do, you wretch. Why else would I agree to have tree-house sex with you?”
“Is that anything like wild monkey sex?”
She laughed, her eyes wet and her cheeks flushed. “You tell me.”
He kissed her long and slow, showing her what he was too clumsy to express with words. Winnie was soft and warm, and when her breasts nestled up against his chest, he felt his control slipping. “It’s dinnertime. We can’t do this.”
She laughed, a wicked, knowing sound that made his breath catch. “Since when are you so worried about propriety?”
He gave in without much of a fight, following Winnie up the stairs to her unmade bed. “My family is never going to let me live this down.”
She locked the door, stripped her shirt over her head and shoved him backward onto the bed. “I’ll make it up to you, my love. I swear.”
They wrestled like children, laughing and panting, ripping at buttons and zippers until they were both naked. He paused, his forehead pressed to hers. “Do you forgive me?” he asked, his throat tight. Surely she knew what he meant. Every stupid word he had ever uttered.
“Yes. Yes, I do. It’s okay, Larkin. We’re okay.”
Relief was as sweet as spring rain. Settling his hips between her legs, he braced himself on his hands and looked down at her. “I didn’t know,” he said, shivering inwardly at how close he came to missing out.
“Didn’t know what?” Her slow, quiet smile bathed him in peace, despite the fact that his body was taut with longing.
“I didn’t know what it was that Devlyn and Annalise and my cousins had found. I thought I was different. More broken. That I couldn’t have what they have.”