Every day this past week, he’d held out hope that he’d hear from her. A phone call. A text. Anything at all to give him some kind of indication that maybe she’d come to the realization that he was worth fighting for. That they were worth fighting for.
That he hadn’t royally fucked everything up by walking away from her.
No, as much as he hated the way things had ended between them, he knew he’d done the right thing by leaving, because he couldn’t go another three months, or longer, hiding a relationship with Ella. And it didn’t even matter that he’d come up with a possible solution to their distance issue. If she didn’t stand up to her father and resolve those issues, they had no chance at a future together. End of story. And apparently, end of them.
He downed another gulp of whiskey, welcoming the burn that slid down his throat and settled in his belly. Then he went ahead and finished off the last of the shot. Drowning his sorrows was beginning to sound like a damn fine idea.
He pushed out of his chair to go and refill his glass just as one of the intercoms on the wall buzzed from the doorman downstairs. Kyle couldn’t imagine what the guy could want, and he was interrupting Kyle’s pity party, but he went ahead and pressed the button and answered with a curt, “Yes?”
“There’s an Ella Fisher here to see you,” the older gentleman said. “Would you like for me to let her up?”
Kyle frowned. For a moment, he thought he was hearing things. Ella was here, in the city, on a Friday night? Considering her aversion to Chicago, that didn’t seem likely . . .
“Sir?” the doorman prompted. “Ms. Fisher said it was important that she speak with you. What would you like me to do?”
Cautious optimism surged though Kyle, and he replied before Ella took his silence for a no. “Yes, let her up, please.”
The line disconnected, and it seemed like it took forever to hear a knock on his door while he paced the entryway. He opened the door, and there she was, looking like the bright ray of sunshine that he called her. A frazzled-looking ray of sunshine, but his nonetheless. He hoped.
“Umm, can I come in?” she asked tentatively.
“Of course.” He stepped back and she brushed past him as she walked inside his place and into the living room. He followed behind, and the sweet scent of lemons filled his senses, instinctively stirring his desire for her. Then again, everything about this woman made him feel like a lovesick fool around her.
She turned around to face him. From the dress she had on to her gorgeous hair falling around her shoulders to the blatant fortitude in her eyes as she met his gaze, she looked absolutely stunning wearing all that confidence. It stole his breath and made his heart pound wildly in his chest because of what it could mean.
He still found it hard to believe that she’d braved the city to come to him. “What are you doing here?”
She lifted her chin a notch, and the sudden fire in her eyes told him that she was prepared to fight for what she wanted. “I’m here to tell you that I love you, which is something I should have said a week ago. Because it’s true. I never stopped loving you,” she said, a vulnerable tremor in her voice. “And I can’t imagine my life or my future without you in it.”
His relief was so overwhelming he nearly dropped to his knees in gratitude. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her forever, but there was just enough wariness still left in him to address the biggest conflict that stood between them. “What about your father?”
“Well . . . I don’t care what my father thinks, because this is my life and my choice, and I told him so. Is he happy that I’m here? Absolutely not,” she said with a soft, derisive laugh. “But I’m the happiest I’ve ever been when I’m with you, wherever that may be. And if that means we need to compromise and split our time between Chicago and Woodmont”—she exhaled a deep breath—“I’ll somehow learn to deal with getting around in the city. I’ll do anything to be with you, Kyle, because what we have is worth it, and I’m not giving you up a second time.”
The fact that she was willing to make that sacrifice for him, for them, told him everything he needed to know. That she was committed to making this work, that she was willing to face the obstacles, that in the end, it was about the choices they made together.
He moved toward her, finally closing the distance between them because he needed to touch her so badly. When they were standing toe-to-toe, he picked up her hands and held them in his. She lifted her gaze to his, and the emotion there and the love for him shining in the depths nearly slayed his heart.
He raised his palms to her face, and, unable to stop himself from taking what he absolutely needed more than his next breath, he lowered his head to hers and kissed her—slow and sweet and infinitely tender. Telling her without words what she meant to him, that she alone made his world complete. She was his shining light, his north star that would always guide him home.
He finally ended the kiss, a soft, dreamy look in her eyes. “God, I love you, Ella Fisher.”
She smiled, her expression radiant. “I love you, too. So much.”
He skimmed his thumbs along her smooth cheeks. “But I’m not letting you move to the city.”
The happiness and exhilaration in her gaze dimmed, and he realized she’d mistaken his words for a rejection. Ahhh, far from it.
He quickly corrected her wrong assumption. “I appreciate all the concessions you’re willing to make for us, but this past week has given me a lot of time to think about logistics. Yes, my job and company are in the city, but my hours are completely flexible. We can live near or in Woodmont and you’d be close to the market, and I can make that one-hour commute. People do it all the time.”
She leaned into him, her hands pressing flat against his bare chest. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“Positively sure. We’ll make it work. I promise, because there is no way in hell I want to go through another week like I just had without you.” He gently brushed back a strand of hair from her face, letting his touch linger. “I’ll keep my condo, and we can use it if we ever need to stay in the city—” She grimaced at that and he laughed. “Or if I’m working a late night and need a place to crash. But I really don’t think that will be likely, because the only place I want to be every single night is in bed, right next to you, so I can wake up every morning to the most beautiful woman on the planet. So, maybe I’ll just sell the condo.”
She skimmed her hands up to his shoulders and around his neck. “We’ll figure it out, together,” she said, pulling his head down to hers for another kiss.
“Yeah, together,” he reiterated against her soft, parted lips before losing himself in the delicious taste of her. Until he was absolutely insane with the need to get inside of her again.
He lifted her in his arms, and she squealed at being literally swept off her feet as he carried her to his bedroom.
After a moment, she relaxed and sighed as she trailed one of her hands along his shoulder and down his arm to squeeze his bicep. “It’s a good thing you’re well built, City Boy.”
“I’m also built to last, baby,” he said, meaningfully. He was a forever kind of guy.
“Yeah, you are,” she agreed appreciatively as he set her down on her heels at the foot of his bed.
She turned around so he could unzip her dress, and he placed hot, damp kisses along the skin he exposed, making her shiver. “You know what all this means, don’t you?”
“That I’m about to get laid by the sexiest guy in Chicago?” she mused seductively.
“Yeah, that, too.” He chuckled as he pushed the dress off her shoulders and it fell to the floor at her feet, leaving her in a lacy pair of panties, a matching bra, and those hot-as-fuck heels.
His dick strained against the front of his sweat pants, begging to be let out, but he ignored the demand. He wanted to strip Ella bare before he got naked himself. He unclipped the back of her bra, let it join her dress on the ground, then walked around her until they were face-to-face and he could fill both of his hands
with her soft, full breasts before dipping his head to take a tight nipple into his mouth.
“It means all this compromise we’re both going to be making . . .” He kissed his way down her stomach and pushed his fingers into the waistband of her panties to drag them down her hips. “We’re going to have to get married.”
Her breath hitched noticeably. “Yeah?” she asked softly, hopefully.
“Yep.” With her underwear gone, he straightened again so he was looking into her beautiful eyes as he guided her back toward the bed, still wearing the fuck-me shoes—he thoroughly intended to do just that. Numerous times and a dozen different positions. “No living in sin for us.”
She laughed out loud at that as she scooted up the mattress, until she was lying against the pillows on her back, looking like a temptress, while he quickly stripped off his sweat pants.
“We’ve been sinning for the past three months,” she said in amusement as she deliberately spread her legs, showing him how wet she already was for him. How needy. “We’re about to sin right now,” she teased him.
“Fuck yeah, we are,” he said huskily as he dove between her legs to eat her up, the hungry, greedy slide of his lips and tongue adding to their plethora of dirty, filthy sins.
She gasped in shock, then moaned in pleasure, and eventually, she twisted her fingers in his hair, shamelessly rode his mouth, and cried out his name as she came gloriously, furiously hard against the flick and glide of his tongue.
Before she had a chance to recover, and while her pussy was still fluttering from the remnants of her blissful orgasm, he moved up and completely over her body, then buried himself balls deep inside her with one long, fluid stroke. She arched up against him, wrapped those long legs around his waist, and he felt the erotic dig of those heels scraping across his skin and wreaking havoc with his self-control.
He tried not to move, not until they cleared up one more thing. Shoving his hands into her hair, he tipped her head back so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. Her eyes were dilated, dark with desire, and he smiled down at her, because she was so perfect, and everything he’d ever wanted and needed in his life.
“You distracted me with all that sinning,” he murmured deeply, wickedly. “And I forgot to ask you something very important, because I don’t want to make any assumptions.”
She licked her bottom lip and tried to squirm beneath him to make him move, and ended up making a frustrated sound when he held still. “Yeah, and what’s that?” she asked impatiently.
“A formal proposal,” he said, and instantly felt her go soft beneath him, her eyes wide with awe and love and a hundred other emotions he completely understood, because he felt the same. “Ella Fisher, will you marry me?”
She didn’t even hesitate with her answer. “I will, City Boy,” she said, happy tears of pure delight shimmering in her eyes. “I can’t wait to finally be Mrs. Kyle Coleman.”
And he couldn’t wait to make her completely and utterly his.
Epilogue
Six months later . . .
Kyle held his beautiful bride in his arms as they swayed to their first dance as husband and wife. Her hair was swept away from her gorgeous face and piled on top of her head in loose curls, baby’s breath, and pearl clips, while the rest cascaded down her back in soft waves, just how he liked it best. Her dress was vintage lace, the style more romantic than overtly sexy, but he loved the sensual way the cut of the fabric skimmed the curves of her body.
As she looked up at him, he felt his heart swell in his chest. With the shine of true love in her eyes, the radiant glow of contentment on her face, and the pure happiness that radiated from the smile on her lips, she was absolutely stunning.
Damn, he was the luckiest man alive, and to think this was just the beginning of their long and amazing future as a wedded couple. They had years to love each other, to build a family together, and to make their lives everything they dreamed it would ever be.
Today, as they’d spoken their vows, they’d been surrounded by friends and family. It had been a perfect sunny day for an outdoor ceremony, and their reception was being held at Celebrations—the first wedding reception his mother’s new venue had hosted. And even though Kyle had told his mom to be a guest at the reception—and not the owner of the place—she couldn’t help but fuss over the food, the cake, and the decor. It made her feel useful and joyful, so Kyle let her do her thing. He was all about making the women in his life happy.
The past six months had been busy ones. He and Ella had found a small place to rent on the outskirts of town until they found exactly what they wanted to buy—though, admittedly, he’d purposely stalled purchasing a house, using the excuse that they’d have more time after the wedding to give the search more of their focus and attention. But the drive into Chicago wasn’t horrible, and he’d adapted his hours to miss rush-hour traffic to and from the city. He never stayed at his condo, and had recently put it on the market to sell.
Ella had named her storefront the Artisan Marketplace, and in the few short months that she’d opened the doors, the place was already profitable and growing weekly with new products for customers. She’d made the decision not to connect it to her father’s grocery store, leaving it as her own separate space. Just last week, she’d talked to her dad about selling Fisher’s Grocery, because she wanted to focus solely on expanding her business. Surprisingly, her father hadn’t balked at the idea and saw it as a way to invest the money to fund his retirement, and even some traveling, too, with Betsy—the woman who was now living with him, not as a caretaker but as his significant other.
Yes, Ella and her father had managed to resolve their differences. It had taken time, lots of time, but once Charles realized that Ella was going to marry Kyle no matter how he felt about it, he’d begrudgingly come around. Kyle had a feeling that Betsy had something to do with that shift in attitude, but it didn’t really matter who or how it had happened, just that it had. Even Charles’ animosity toward Kyle had gradually diminished, and again, it didn’t matter how or why, because it made Ella happy that the two men in her life could coexist peacefully.
As the song ended, someone tapped Kyle on his arm, and he turned to find the object of his thoughts standing there. Charles looked incredibly handsome in his black suit, and he’d been so proud to walk his daughter down the aisle. There had been tears in the old man’s eyes, though his voice had been gruff when he’d told Kyle to take care of his baby.
“Mind if I have a dance with my daughter?” Charles asked, and Kyle wasn’t going to refuse that bonding moment between the two of them.
Kyle lifted his wife’s hand—God, he loved being able to call her his wife—and placed a tender kiss on her knuckles that earned him a smile. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised, then handed her over to her father so they could have some time alone.
He made his way to where his friend Connor Prescott was standing off to the side by himself, watching everyone else while he sipped a drink he’d gotten from the open bar.
“Congratulations, man,” Connor said, slapping him on the back. “I’m really happy for you, but I have to admit that I’m starting to feel like the odd man out.”
There was humor in his friend’s voice, but also a note of truth, too, and Kyle understood why when he glanced out at the guests at his reception and saw all the pairings through Connor’s eyes. Everyone around him was getting domesticated. First, there’d been Wes and Natalie—Connor’s good friend and his little sister—then Max, who’d found love with a matchmaker, of all things. Their two partners were beyond happy as husbands, and both Natalie and Max’s wife, Hailey, were even a few months pregnant at the same time—and Kyle was eager to start on a family with Ella, as well.
Even Claire and Nolan were paired off, and Kyle wouldn’t be surprised if there was an engagement between the two of them fairly soon since they’d become so inseparable.
But there was one thing that Kyle knew to be true. Love was an unpredictable thing. You never k
new when it was going to happen, or how, or with whom. A year ago, Kyle never would have envisioned his life with Ella after what had happened between them ten years ago, but here he was, married to his very best friend.
He glanced at Connor and imparted the best advice he could. “When you least expect it, it’s gonna happen, so don’t worry about being an old maid just yet,” he said with a laugh.
Connor chuckled, too. “Maybe I should feel lucky that I’ve dodged the matrimonial bullet.”
The bride and groom stayed at the reception for another two hours. They danced, they mingled, they cut their cake, and they ate great food. But as the sun was starting to set on the best day of his life, Kyle wanted his wife all to himself, and he whisked her away in his truck—which the guys had decorated with a JUST MARRIED sign on the bumper, along with half a dozen beer cans on the back that dragged behind them as they drove away from the venue with everyone watching them go.
“Where to now, husband?” Ella said as she ran her hand up his thigh and glanced at him with a sexy smile that made his dick twitch in his slacks.
He grinned right back at her as he turned onto the highway. “Anxious to get started on the honeymoon, Sunshine?”
“Maybe,” she teased as her fingers danced over the bulge in his pants. Then she frowned as she realized the direction he was driving. “But this isn’t the way to the bed-and-breakfast we were going to stay at tonight.”
Tomorrow, they were flying to Aruba for a week for the real honeymoon and vacation and time alone that the two of them desperately needed. “No, it’s not. I want to take you to see one of the most spectacular views you’ll ever see.”
“I’m looking at him right now,” she said with a sassy wink.
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