The Millionaire Affair(49)

She leaned into his palm and floored him with her next four words. "I love you, too."

He simply stared at her, mouth ajar for several seconds. When he finally  got his tongue to cooperate, he said, "You heard my message."

"I didn't get it until this morning. I came straight here."

What? He blinked, digesting that bit of information. "I thought you heard it and were ignoring me."

She shook her head. "I heard it and cried in the middle of a café over a half-eaten muffin."         

     



 

He pulled her close, and relief washed through him when her arms locked  around his neck. "The one time I didn't listen to my heart," she  whispered against his ear, "and it was right."

He held her tighter, not a hundred percent certain he wasn't having a very vivid, alcohol-induced dream.

"I may have apologized for saying ‘I love you' that first time, but it  was the truth. Crazy as it sounds, part of me just …  knew."

He loosened his hold on her just enough to focus on her bright green  eyes. "I don't care if you keep your store where it is." He wanted to  make sure she understood he was not trying to cage her. This was her  life, their life. "I don't care if you stay in your apartment. I mean, I  do care, but only because I don't want you away from me for another  second." He gave her a watery smile. It was true, he didn't. And telling  her felt undeniably right. Throat choked with emotion, he managed to  hold back the tears when he said, "Please don't shut me out. We can move  in together later. Or I could move in with you."

A bemused twinkle lit her eyes. "You'd move into my five-hundred-square-foot loft?"

"It has everything I need." He kissed her, savoring the feel of her lips  for what felt like the first time in forever. "You." He palmed her  tummy. "Our baby."

She grinned, and he thought it might be the most beautiful sight in the  world. "But I love your place. The bedroom, the shower," she said,  ticking off rooms on her fingers. "Your desk." She lifted one eyebrow  and gave him a saucy smile.

"You're teasing me at a time like this?" But he couldn't help smiling  back at her. He had a vivid memory of those rooms. They'd made love in  each of them during the week when he'd been too blind to see what was  right in front of him.

"I remember." He palmed her hair and rubbed the silken strands between  his fingers, kissing her when she tipped her chin. "I remember every  breath," he said. "Every sound." He kissed her again.

"Do you remember the balcony?" she whispered against his lips.

"I remember you."

She caught his face in her hands, keeping her soft, pink lips just out  of reach. "I remember you," she repeated. "We could make a few new  memories at my place. You know, before I move in with you."

He was trying really, really hard not to simultaneously laugh and cry.  "You're moving in with me," he said as she nestled the tip of her finger  in the cleft in his chin.

She raised her eyes to his. "I am."

He grinned, a big, dopey grin that made his cheeks hurt.

"I'm going to marry you, too," she said, draping her arms around his  neck. "I'm going to design and sew my own wedding dress, though, so it  might be a while."

His chest tightened, his eyes burned. He was so grateful, so blessed for  this second chance, that he scrunched his eyes closed and thanked God  before he realized he was doing it. Thanked Him for answering the prayer  of a drunken moron who had no idea how to talk to the Almighty. Then he  thanked his mom. Because he knew she was up in heaven putting a good  word in for him. It was the only way that prayer had a chance of making  it through.

And when he opened his eyes, he focused on Kimber: his love, his future  wife, the mother of his unborn child. She was smiling, glowing, and  probably had no idea she'd just pulled him out of the deepest depression  he'd ever suffered.

"Take as long as you want," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "Take whatever you want."

She stroked the stubble on his face. "I want you."

Pressing her close, he dropped his forehead on hers and uttered the same  words he had the night she'd been playing dress-up in his clothes. Only  now, they meant more. Now, they meant forever.

"Honey," he said, kissing her softly before speaking the rest in a low, husky baritone. "You can have me."





EPILOGUE


Push! Push!"

If Angel said "push" one more time, Kimber was going to punch her in her  perfect nose. "It's fine," she growled under her breath. Wait …   growling? On her wedding day? That wasn't right.

Her soon-to-be sister-in-law gave up on trying to shut the stubborn door  to the chapel's small bridal room-more of a glorified closet-and  regarded her, an indignant frown tilting her mouth.

"Your brother and I have a baby together, you know. There's nothing he  hasn't seen." Especially after the birth of their son, Caleb Henry.

Somehow, Kimber had prepped and planned and sewn, and managed to throw  together a respectable wedding while pregnant. At the same time, she had  hired additional staff for Hobo Chic, as well as opening a new, upscale  store on Michigan Avenue. Of course, she'd had help. Without Landon and  Shane on marketing and advertising, and Angel on logo design, Cheeky  Chic wouldn't exist.         

     



 

Kimber had help getting into her wedding dress, too, thanks to a  pit-bull personal trainer she'd hired. After the "I dos" she planned on  eating her weight in wedding cake. She'd earned it.

"Well, he hasn't seen you in a wedding dress," Gloria argued from the  other side of the room. Her ink-black hair swept along her shoulders,  her lips painted in shiny red gloss. Not to mention the healthy rack  bursting from the bodice of her purple gown. Kimber's son happily  dropped his head into Glo's cleavage and fell asleep whenever he had the  chance. Boys and boobs. The fascination started at birth.

Kimber adjusted her top, her own swollen breasts a new challenge.

"She's right," Angel agreed, looping her arm in Gloria's. Her long brown hair was up, revealing gorgeous shoulders.

"You two are so beautiful," Kimber said. "I have to take a picture. Where's my phone?"

A camera on a strap appeared through the gap in the door. "I have one. If it's safe to come in."

"It's safe, Evan, come in." Kimber flicked a look at Gloria, who flashed  him a warm smile. But she didn't smile at him like she used to-like she  wanted to strip him bare and do torrid things to him. No, the only heat  between Glo and Evan now was the blazing trail of his illustration  career.

As he slipped through the door, Kimber heard her baby's coo. She  clutched her chest and sent a look of longing toward the hallway.

"Oh no, you don't!" Angel ran for the door to block it, but Caleb's soft  clucks outside the door effectively broke his aunt's will.

"Come on, Angel." Kimber smiled at her friend as Landon's deep, soothing  words spoken to their son lifted on the air. "Please let them in?"

Reluctantly, Angel opened the door. Landon smiled at his sister. "I was  about to hand him off to Dad, but he and Lyon are ushering the final  guests … " His words faded as his eyes strayed to Kimber. Angel hefted  Caleb into her arms as Landon's face pulled into a wide grin.

She stood, brushing out the skirts of her white dress while she studied  the man she would marry minutes from now. Landon wore a trim, black  tuxedo, black bow tie, and a crisp, white shirt. Classic. Handsome. Sexy  as sin.

A snap sounded from behind her. Evan, looking fetching in his own rented  tux, lowered the camera until it rested on his chest. "You should see  your face, man. Priceless."

But Landon ignored his brother, not taking his eyes from Kimber. She  felt the tears begin to pool behind her lids. There was too much joy to  contain. Too many blessings to count.

He took her hands and looked down at her, his eyes their true color. "Not having second thoughts, I hope."

She shook her head from side to side, the veil on her crown swishing.

Feeling the weight of their audience, he tilted an eyebrow at the crowd  in the room, and Angel and Caleb, Gloria, then Evan exited through the  door that wouldn't quite close.

Landon's brow raised above the rims of his black glasses. "We have a few  minutes." A wicked grin crossed his face. He pulled her close.  "Whatever shall we do?"

"You wouldn't," she said with mock alarm. "Not in a church, it's like …  illegal or something."

The look in his eyes went from predatory to reverent. "I wouldn't. Next time I make love to you, I'll be your husband."

Husband. The word sent chills over her entire body.

"You look beautiful, by the way."

"Thank you."

"Thank you," he said with a twitch of his lips.

"For?"