Chapter Nineteen

Macy

There's been a lot of kissing since then..

In fact, there's been a lot of everything… and I've enjoyed every second of it.

I may have only brought an overnight bag with me on that first day, reminding Dawson, when he asked, that I wasn't moving in, but later that evening, when we went up to his apartment, he suggested I did.

"We don't need to rush things," I reminded him, leaning back in his arms. It felt as though we'd rushed enough already, but it seemed he still didn't agree, and he just grinned at me.

"I'm not."

"Really?"

"No. But can you honestly say you'll be okay waking up alone? Not tomorrow, but maybe the next day, or the day after that?" I thought about it for roughly a second and shook my head. "Neither will I," he said, and then he lowered me to the couch. I wanted to ask what was going on… why we were wasting time with the couch when we could have been making our way to the bedroom, but then I realized he didn't intend just sitting there. He had other things in mind, and even though it was late already, he took his time, kneeling before me and tasting me, making me come on his tongue, before he parted my legs even wider, shimmying into the space between them, and entering me. "I don't ever wanna wake up without you again," he said, and I nodded my head, unable to speak as he took me to even greater heights.

We made it to the bedroom eventually, where I was surprised to find Dawson had cleared some space in his closet. It's enormous, taking up most of one wall, and when I'd put my things away, he looked down at me and said, "I said you didn't bring enough," and we both laughed, although I yelped with surprise when he lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bed, dropping me onto the mattress.

Sleep was a while in coming, but it was a while that was filled with so much love, neither of us minded in the slightest. The feeling of drifting off with his arms around me, my head on his chest, and our legs entwined, both of us more than satisfied, was one I knew I wanted to repeat… every single night.

I didn't realize that Dawson had set an alarm, but it woke us the next morning with a start.

"What's going on?" I said, sitting up as he switched it off and pulled me back down into his arms.

"I set the alarm."

"I realized that, but why?"

"Because there are things we need to do this morning."

"There are?"

"Yeah… starting with a shower."

He didn't give me time to ask for explanations, but pulled me into the bathroom, making me scream his name twice before he filled me, leaving me breathless and in need of his arms for support.

"Don't let me go," I whispered, clinging to him, fearful my legs wouldn't hold me up.

"Never," he murmured, kissing my forehead as he waited for me to recover.

It took a while, but once he was sure I was okay, he took a half step back, looking down at me. "What is it we need to do?" I asked, and he tilted his head, like he didn't understand. "You said there were things we needed to do this morning."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot all about that." He leaned in and kissed me. "I guess my first need of the day made me forget about all the others."

I smiled, loving his words, almost as much as his deeds… and him.

"So, what's it all about?" I asked, as he shut off the water and reached for two towels, wrapping them around us.

"I need to drive you to your aunt's place."

"You do?" I gazed up at him, confusion getting the better of me. "Why? I brought clothes with me so I wouldn't have to."

"I know, but we need to talk to her."

"To Aunt Bernie? Why? Don't you remember? I told you I spoke to her yesterday."

"I know. I hadn't forgotten, but if I remember rightly, you also agreed to move in with me last night, and while Bernie isn't your keeper, it's only polite to let her know what's happening."

He had a point, and I felt a little guilty for not realizing it myself.

"I guess we'd better get dressed and have some breakfast."

"We had… because when we've told your aunt our news, I'm kinda hoping there'll be time for us to pack your things, so I can bring them back here, after I've dropped you at Peony's place."

"You've got this all planned, haven't you?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem?"

"No. It's just that it all felt so rushed last night, and now it feels like you've been preparing for weeks."

"Not weeks, Mace. Hours. But that's long enough."

"So it seems," I said, and I leaned up and kissed him.

Aunt Bernice wasn't even remotely surprised by our news. As with everything else in life, she didn't bat an eyelid and took it all in her stride as we sat at the kitchen table and told her of our plans. She smiled across the table at us, pouring the coffee she'd just made, and said, "Are you gonna tell your mom and dad, or do you want me to do it for you?"

I hadn't even thought about telling Mom and Dad, but I couldn't leave Aunt Bernie to relay my news.

"I'll tell them," I said.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but they might not react well."

"Why not?" Dawson asked before I could say a word.

"It's nothing personal," Bernie replied quickly, sensing she might have offended him, and I grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, just in case he was feeling insecure again.

"What is it, then?"

She glanced at me before she answered and then let out a sigh. "They haven't really accepted the fact that you're not going home," she said, surprising me.

"I know we haven't talked about it much, but I thought they were okay with it. They've never said anything to me about being unhappy."

"They're not unhappy. But I think they'd be happier if you were back in Boston. It's gonna be hard for them to hear that's not gonna happen."

Dawson looked at me like he was scared I might let that influence my decision, and I knew I needed to say something… and say it fast.

"I'm not changing my mind."

"No-one's asking you to," she said. "And I'm happy to speak to them, if you want."

"No. It's okay. I'll talk to them."

"Why not do it now?" Dawson suggested, and I turned to face him.

"Now?"

"Yeah. I can tell you're worried about it, and you might find it easier to talk to them if your aunt's here."

I could see his point, and although I was dreading the conversation, I wanted to get it over with, rather than dwelling on it… which meant there was no time like the present.

He and Aunt Bernie sat and watched while I connected the call, putting it onto speaker, so Dawson could hear what was being said, and then he took my hand in his again, studying me closely. I got the feeling he was just as nervous as I was, but as it transpired, he had no need to be. Sure, Mom and Dad were surprised, and I sensed a little disappointment in Mom's voice, but they were happy for me, too. Happy that I was happy. They asked if they could come visit, and through a series of silent gesticulations, Aunt Bernie made it clear she thought it best if they stayed with her, not at the bar.

I put the suggestion to them, like it had been my idea.

"She just wants me to help with her garden," Mom said, and Aunt Bernie chuckled.

"Not right now, I don't," she said. "We've got about a foot of snow."

"In that case, we'll wait until it's warmed up a bit, and if you like, Macy, we could bring the rest of your things with us, if you think you'll have space for them."

Dawson nodded his head, and I said, "We'll find space," even though I wasn't sure where.

It felt like they were accepting the situation, and we ended the call, promising to make arrangements.

"You wouldn't have gone back to Boston, would you?" Dawson asked once we were alone in my room. We were packing my things, and having to keep an eye on the time, so I wouldn't be late for work, but I turned to face him, then put down the blouse I'd been folding and stepped closer, putting my arms around his waist.

"Never."

"You mean that?"

I nodded my head. "Absolut—"

I didn't get to finish my reply. He silenced me with a bruising kiss and, although he kept it brief, he left me breathless as he whispered, "I'm so in love with you."

We finished my packing, both of us smiling, and then he loaded my bags into his car, while I said goodbye to Aunt Bernie and thanked her for all her help.

"Don't be a stranger," she said as she waved us off, and I blew her a kiss, knowing I wouldn't.

Dawson took me to the orchard then, although he stopped his car at the entrance, rather than turning onto the track.

"Are you gonna be okay walking the rest of the way?" he asked.

"Of course, but you can take me up to the farmhouse, if you want."

He shook his head. "No… it's okay. As long as you're happy to walk."

I knew he was worried about coming face-to-face with Peony, but I felt like he'd overcome enough obstacles in the previous few days. Overcoming that one could wait a little longer.

He leaned in and kissed me, and I climbed out of the car, walking up the track. It was only when I got to the farmhouse and was about to open the door, that I turned around and saw his car was still there. I waved, and although he was too far away for me to see if he was waving back, I didn't mind, and I stood there until he pulled out onto the street and started back into town. As I watched his car disappear, I thought about how much I wanted to be with him. Sure, I loved my job with Peony, but Dawson wouldn't have to open the bar for another couple of hours, and when I thought about what we could have been doing to fill that time, I couldn't help wishing things could have been just a little different…

Peony was feeding Rory while trying to hold a conversation on the phone, and from the sound of it, I knew something was wrong. She looked up at me as I removed my coat and scarf and nodded toward Rory, making it clear she needed my help, and although I'd never fed him before, I couldn't just stand there and do nothing. I stepped over and took him from her, ignoring his grizzles as I sat down in the chair beside hers, and settled him in the crook of my arm, letting him take his bottle again. He seemed happy enough, and I watched him, his eyes fixed on mine, as he guzzled down his milk. Peony had got up and wandered into the living area of the farmhouse, pacing up and down, clearly frustrated, and she didn't return until Rory had finished his bottle and was sitting up on my lap, a lot happier with life.

"I'm so sorry," she said, practically falling into the chair beside me.

"What's happened?"

"The candles arrived this morning… the pink ones for Sophia Norris's wedding."

"And?"

"Most of them are broken, or damaged beyond being usable."

"How?"

"God knows. The shippers deny all responsibility, but the box was practically in pieces, so I can't see who else is to blame."

"Sophia Norris is going to throw a fit."

"No, she's not… because we won't tell her."

"We won't?"

"No. I've just been talking to the manufacturers, and they've said they can remake them."

"But what about the shipping? How do we know the same thing won't happen again?"

"Because Ryan's gonna deal with it. He was here when the package arrived this morning, and he said that, if I could get a new shipment ordered, he'd have it collected for me."

"How's he gonna do that?"

"I don't know, but I'm gonna call him and tell him it's happening."

"Okay."

She stood up, taking her phone, but then glanced down at me. "Sorry. Are you okay with Rory for a little longer?"

"I'm fine," I said and looked at him. "We're fine, aren't we?" He gurgled, and I had to giggle, because that sound was so cute.

By mid-morning, everything was calm again. Rory was asleep, we had a date for the new candles to be shipped, and Ryan had organized their collection.

"He's gonna send one of his negotiators," Peony explained, pouring us our second cup of coffee and bringing it over.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's a guy called Adrian Marsh. Ryan doesn't like him very much, and I think he's looking for an excuse to keep him out of the office… or out of trouble, anyway."

"As long as he gets our candles back in one piece…"

"I think Ryan might fire him, if he doesn't." We both laughed, sipping at our coffee, and then Peony turned to face me. "You seem very cheerful today."

"I am." I smiled across at her and decided I may as well tell her the truth. "I'm moving in with Dawson."

She frowned slightly. "What about his drinking?"

"He's given it up."

"Just like that?"

"Yes."

She nodded her head and then smiled. "I told you he'd work it out."

"Work what out?"

"Don't you remember? When you said you wanted to help him, I told you he'd work it out."

"I know, but…"

"When I said that, I meant that he'd realize there was something worth stopping for… or someone." I could feel myself blush, but she ignored it and leaned a little closer. "Can I assume you don't just like him anymore?"

"You can."

"This doesn't mean you're gonna leave, does it?" she said, her face falling.

"No… but I was wondering how you'd feel about me switching my hours around a little."

"In what way?"

"Well… it occurred to me earlier that Dawson doesn't start work until eleven, or thereabouts, and while we spend the afternoon and evening together, it would be nice if we could…"

"I understand," she said, smiling, although her frown quickly returned. "The problem is, I don't wanna work much beyond lunchtime. I've grown to enjoy having my afternoons to myself, so I can do things with Rory, and be a mom for a few hours." I couldn't blame her for that, but I wasn't sure where it left us, and judging from her expression, neither was she… until her face suddenly cleared and she said, "How would you feel about working five days a week instead of four?"

"You want me to work more hours?"

"No. I'm just suggesting we distribute them differently. I'll admit, I've gotten used to being on my own on Wednesdays, but it was so much easier having you here yesterday, so why don't we take your sixteen hours and spread them over five mornings, so you'd still finish at one, but you could start at ten instead of nine. Would that help?"

"It would be fabulous… but that's only fifteen hours, not sixteen."

"Is it?" she said, and I could see her working it out in her head. "Oh, yes. It is."

"I don't mind if you pay me for an hour less per week."

"We'll worry about that later," she said, waving her hand in the air, and we both laughed, although we kept it quiet, so we didn't wake Rory.

Peony was able to give me a ride into town that afternoon. She was going to the drugstore, and on the way, I thanked her for being so understanding.

"It's okay," she said. "I'm just so pleased for you both. You deserve to be happy."

I could feel myself blush, and she smiled across at me. "You were right about him, you know?"

"Oh? In what way?"

"He's one of the nicest guys anyone could hope to meet."

I wasn't kidding, and when I got to the bar, he proved me right, coming over to help me take off my coat and scarf, before putting them over the back of the closest chair, and then kissing me, regardless of the customers who were sitting at tables, some of them ignoring us, but others staring, open-mouthed. I felt a little self-conscious, but he didn't, and when he pulled back, he held me in his arms.

"Okay?" he said.

"Getting used to it."

"Good. And by the way, you're not walking to work tomorrow. You can take my car."

"I can?"

"Yeah. I don't need it."

"Well… thank you." I went to lean up and kiss him, but pulled back, a thought occurring. Dawson obviously noticed and led me back behind the bar, so we were slightly less visible.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You were gonna kiss me then, but you stopped."

"I know. I—I just had a thought."

"Which was?"

"I wondered whether you and Stevie used to kiss like that… in public? Is this something you've done before, or are you just doing it with me because of James, and what he did, and because you think you have a point to prove?"

"Man… that's a lot of overthinking," he said, shaking his head.

"Is it?"

"Yeah." He moved closer, putting his hands on my waist. "But I'll put your mind at rest, if you want." He paused for breath, pulling me close to him, and lowering his voice. "Kissing you has nothing to do with either of our exes. Not really. Sure, I used to kiss Stevie occasionally, while we were working, but it wasn't the same."

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't need to kiss her like I need to kiss you. Just like I didn't miss her when she wasn't here. Not like I miss you. I've spent my entire morning looking at the clock, counting down the minutes until you'd get back here. I've been thinking about you every second, finding it hard to focus on anything other than you."

"And you never did that with Stevie?"

"No."

I moved a little closer to him, looking up into his eyes. "You don't think that might be because this is all so new?"

"No. It's because I love you…"

"You love me? Don't you mean you're in love with me?"

"You didn't let me finish."

"Oh… sorry."

He smiled. "It's okay. What I was gonna say was, I love you, Macy… more than I've ever loved anyone in my entire life."

I tried hard not to gasp, and bit my lip to hold it in. "D—Don't say that if you don't mean it."

"I mean it, babe."

He dipped his head then, and kissed me, harder than ever.

Later that night, when we went upstairs after a fairly quiet evening, I noticed my bags in Dawson's bedroom and realized I still needed to unpack. I could have kicked myself for not coming up sooner. It wasn't as though we'd been especially busy downstairs, and it wouldn't have taken long. The same thing still applied. I knew I could unpack in no time at all… except I was tired by then.

"It can wait," Dawson said, coming up behind me, his arms around my waist.

"No. I should do it now."

"Why? I can do it in the morning, when you've gone to work."

"Oh…" I spun around, looking up into his eyes. "I meant to tell you…"

"Tell me what?"

"I've changed my hours."

"With Peony?"

"Yes. I'm gonna start at ten instead of nine."

"So you'll be working there for less time each day?"

"I will… but I'll be working five days instead of four." His face fell slightly, so I moved closer, putting my arms up on his shoulders, my fingers playing in his hair. "At least this way, we won't have to rush out of bed in the mornings, and we'll get to spend some time together."

"You did it for us?"

"Of course I did."

I heard his growl the second before he crushed his lips to mine, lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around him, lost in him, as he carried me to the bed, and lay me down, leaning up over me.

"Thank you," he whispered, his face so full of emotion it took my breath away. "It means a lot to me that you're willing to adjust your life to spend more time with me. Working together is one thing, but we need to live together, too."

He had a strange look in his eyes when he said that, but I didn't get the chance to ask what it meant, because he rolled us over, so he was on his back, and I was straddling him, and that was when he started undressing me.

Which meant I forgot everything else… at least for a while.

Since then, we've discovered that living together is a lot easier than working together. That's only because I've gotten more and more used to his public displays of affection, and we've both established that kissing isn't enough. We struggle to keep our hands to ourselves, often brushing up against each other ‘accidentally' during the afternoon and evening. That usually results in us being breathless with need by the time we switch off the lights in the bar at the end of the evening, and it's been known for us to be tearing at each other's clothes before we've even made it halfway up the stairs.

Everyone's noticed the change in Dawson… from the customers, to the other people who work for him. The place is so much more cheerful now, and I heard someone the other day commenting on how happy he is, which made me smile. To me, of course, he's exactly the same man he always was… just with a smile on his face.

My one regret, if I can be allowed one, is that we get so little time alone, away from the bar. We work seven days a week, and while we're together, and Dawson makes it fun, it's not quite the same as going out to dinner, or taking a walk down by the creek… or even just sitting upstairs in the evening and watching a movie. We've never done any of those things, which could be why I'm so excited about today.

It's Tanner and Zara's wedding, and even though it's Valentine's Day, which is a major event for Dawson's business, he's closed the bar. I wasn't sure if we were going to buy each other anything to mark the greatest day in every lover's calendar… but he'd mentioned a book he wanted, and I thought I might as well get it for him. I went to the bookstore, expecting to meet Tanner and Zara for the first time, only to find they weren't there. The lady who served me was probably in her mid-sixties, and was very helpful, showing me where I could find the book, and explaining it had only just been released and was very popular. I felt relieved to have found it, and took it back to Dawson's apartment, hiding it at the back of the closet.

I was pleased I'd gone to so much trouble this morning, when I handed it to him, while we were still lying in bed, enjoying the luxury of not having to rush up, because he gave me a beautiful necklace in return. It's in the form of a simple daisy, the petals made of white gold, and the center of yellow, on a white gold chain, and I looked up at him, tears blurring my vision.

"Don't you like it?" he said as I played it through my fingers.

"I love it. It's perfect."

He sighed out his relief. "I put a lot of thought into it," he said, pulling me into his arms. "Do you know what daisies mean?"

"No."

"They stand for new beginnings."

I looked up at him, unable to stop smiling, even though I knew I was about to cry, and I nodded my head and let him hold me. We lay like that for quite some time before he pulled back and picked up his book, which he'd allowed to fall between us.

"How did you know I wanted this?" he said.

"Because you told me."

"I did?"

"Yes. About a week ago."

I could see him thinking, trying to remember, and then his face cleared. "I mentioned it in passing," he said, pulling me closer and dropping the book again. "You picked up on the fact that I wanted it, from one brief conversation?"

"Of course. I pick up on everything you say."

He smiled the most perfect of smiles and kissed me so gently I thought my heart might burst.

That was this morning, before our shower, before we had breakfast, sitting at the table, wrapped in towels, just staring at each other.

Now, of course, time has moved on. There's only just over an hour until Tanner and Zara's wedding is due to start, and sitting around in towels – even if we have moved to the couch and brought the coffeepot with us – isn't getting us anywhere.

"We ought to get dressed," I say to Dawson, twisting around and looking up at him.

"I guess. Although it seems a shame to break this up."

"Even for your best friend's wedding?"

He tilts his head from one side to the other, like he's having to give that some serious thought, and then he kisses my forehead, and shifts in his seat, sitting forward, so he can stand, and pull me up with him.

"I'd still rather stay here with you," he says, wrapping me up in his arms. "But I guess you're right."

I giggle and let him lead me through to the bedroom.

I bought a new dress when Dawson clarified that going to the wedding with him wasn't an option, and I go over to the closet, pulling it out, along with some underwear. He waits for me to finish, then while I settle on the bed, opening my brand new packet of stockings, he sorts out his own clothes, bringing them back to his side of the bed.

I'll admit stockings are a bit of a novelty for me. I limit my skirt and dress wearing to the warmer months of the year, so I've never needed to worry about what to wear on my legs when it's this cold, and jeans aren't an option. But I realized I'd have to get something, and stockings seemed like a lot more fun than pantyhose. Naturally, that meant I had to buy a garter belt, and of course, that led to me having to get a new bra and panties, too.

My credit card might have been complaining, but I wasn't… and I don't think Dawson will be, either.

The garter belt is a little fiddly and I'm extra careful with the stockings. They're super-fine, and have a delicate lace band around the top, but once they're on, they're quite comfortable. I add the bra and matching thong, and turn around to pick up my dress, just as Dawson gets up from the bed, where he's been sitting by his nightstand, trying to find his cufflinks.

"Holy fucking shit," he says. There's a hunger in his eyes, and as he stalks around the bed, he's already hard, coming up to me, and putting his hands on my waist. "What are you trying to do to me?" he whispers.

"Nothing. I just thought this would look nice."

"Nice? Once again, you need to think of another adjective, baby. Like beautiful… totally fucking beautiful."

I smile up at him, but before I can say a word, his lips are on mine, his hands on my ass as he grinds his hips into me, groaning deeply.

"I want you," he murmurs into my mouth.

"We don't have time."

"Then we'll make time." He breaks the kiss and spins me around. "Kneel on the bed, babe… right on the edge."

I do as he says, gasping when he nudges my knees apart, and I feel him pull my thong aside, the head of his erection already at my entrance.

"Yes…" I hiss as he nudges inside, giving me his entire length.

"You look so fucking hot, Mace… so fucking hot."

I smile and he lets out a groan, rubbing his hands over my ass before he pulls out of me, and then slams back in, really hard. He moves his left hand up to my right shoulder, pulling me back, while he clasps my hip with his other hand, taking me so deep, I have to moan and sigh with every inward and outward stroke.

"I need you to come, babe," he says, struggling to breathe.

I'm not sure I can… not yet. But before I can say anything, he moves his right hand around beneath me, rubbing my clitoris, making my body shudder as he slams into me, harder and harder.

"Oh… yes… please, yes." My uncertainty dies in an instant. I'm on fire, and within seconds, I tumble in a tangled mess of pleasure and longing and love as he thrusts deep inside me, one last time, bellowing my name, over and over, as he fills me.

I struggle to come down from that incredible high, my mind in a whirl, wondering how I got from getting dressed to lying here, catching my breath, in what feels like the blink of an eye. He pulls out of me, and I fall forward onto the bed, my body reeling, my arms unable to take my weight for a second longer. I feel the mattress dip as he sits beside me and I curl around so I'm facing him.

"That was different," I whisper.

He reaches over, grabbing my hand, and sits me up. "Different?" he says. "Please tell me you mean good different?"

"Of course."

"Macy?" He sounds confused, like he doesn't believe me, and I wish I'd kept quiet now. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing… at least nothing bad."

"But something's wrong?"

"I—It's just you're normally… you're normally so gentle."

"Shit," he says, tensing and pulling me in to him. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Not at all. It was just a lot harder than usual. A lot faster."

"Was it too hard?"

"No."

"Too fast?" I shrug my shoulders and he sighs. "It had to be fast, babe. We don't have time for anything else."

"I know."

"But you'd rather not do that again?" he says and I shake my head, shifting up onto his lap, where he holds me tight.

"That's not what I'm saying. I love how gentle you usually are with me, and I wouldn't want you to change… although I also loved being taken hard like that. Like you couldn't get enough of me."

"I can't," he says. "That's how I feel every minute of the day." He pauses, brushing his fingers down my cheek. "Are you saying you'd like to try that again when we're not on the clock? Hard, but not fast?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

He nods his head, smiling at last. "Okay. But will you do something for me?"

"Sure."

"If I ever do anything you don't like, or I make you feel uncomfortable, will you tell me? Don't make me ask, just tell me. Okay?"

"I can't see that ever happening, Dawson, but okay."

He stands me up, letting out a groan, his hands wandering over my hips. "Can you also tell me how on earth I'm supposed to get through this wedding, when I want you so much again already?"

"Self control?" I suggest, and he chuckles.

"I thought it was pretty damn obvious I don't have any of that around you."

"Shall we try getting dressed and see if that helps?"

"I doubt it. Having clothes on isn't gonna make me forget what you look like now… in that incredibly sexy underwear."

"I'll still be wearing it tonight," I say and he nods his head, smiling as he gets to his feet.

"Not for long, Mace… not for long."

I giggle and he kisses me just briefly before he returns to his own side of the bed, pulling on his underwear, and I go into the bathroom to fix my hair and makeup.

By the time I come out, he's already dressed in a suit, and I stop on the threshold, my breath catching in my throat. "Oh… Oh my gosh."

"What's wrong?" he asks, turning to face me properly, so I can see the way his dark gray suit fits over his muscular arms and chest, his shirt clinging to him… making me jealous of the way it gets to touch every contour of his body.

"You. You look stunning."

He smiles and steps over, his hands on my naked waist. "A suit isn't really my style, but…"

"You wear it well," I say and he bends his head, kissing me.

We're running out of time, and he lets me go, although I sense his reluctance, and his eyes never leave me as I pull on my dress. He has to fasten it for me, the feeling of his fingers on my skin making me shudder. When I turn to kiss him, I can't help smiling.

"Do you have any idea how happy I am?" I whisper and he nods his head.

"Yes. You're nearly as happy as me."

I smile, letting him pull me into one of his bear hugs, and I wrap my arms around him and let out a sigh, knowing we're finally where we need to be. We're together, with a future to look forward to… whatever it may bring.