“How do you feel now?”
“My head hurts in two places and there’s a woman on top of me.”
“Mmm.” I rested my lips on the side of his neck. “She’s trying to help. Is it working?”
His arms tightened. “I’m beginning to feel…so much better.”
“Good.” I moved to the other side of his neck. Oliver’s hands splayed across my back, moving in a slow circle until they hooked around my sides, his fingers sliding under my shirt. I bit my lip and moaned in heavenly anticipation.
“No—sorry,” he whispered in a rush. “Umm, here?” He moved his hand off my still-healing wound. But I felt no pain at that spot, only cold when he was gone.
“Gentle.” I placed my hand over his. “Stitches.”
“It’s okay if we…?”
“Mmm-hmm. I’m beginning to feel so much better, too.” I leaned down to plant a kiss on his mouth, but he turned away.
“Rach.” His eyebrows bent. “I wanted to come see you after the hospital. I almost followed you to Santa Barbara.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I felt him shrug. “You were busy healing.”
“Oliver.” I rested a hand against his cheek. “I am in love with you. I would’ve healed faster with you there.” I ran my fingers into his hair and pushed the melting icepack to the floor. “Promise you’ll always be around to help me feel better.”
“I promise.” He took my hand, kissed the palm then linked our fingers. “I thought about you a lot over the years. When Meghan said your name on the phone that day, I was tempted to call her back and ask if you were single. A few days later, Sarah filled me in on some of the gaps.” He ran a finger across my cheek then circled my lips. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first moment I saw you again.”
“Oh, geez.” I blushed. “Not that day on the running trail.”
“Rach.” A soft groan rumbled in his chest. “Definitely that day.”
I leaned down, my hair spilling around his face.
“Mostly though, I’ve been dying to do this.” Deftly, he pushed the cushions off the back of the couch and rolled us over. His warm, heavy weight pinned me in place. I squealed his name once, then there were no more words.
“When did the power go out?” I asked, noticing that the room was pitch black and the overhead fan had stopped spinning. Had the earth stopped rotating, too?
Oliver lifted his chin to glance over the back of the couch. “Huh. No idea.” He lay back down. “Listen to the rain,” he whispered, trailing a lazy finger up my spine. I buried my nose in his neck, then pressed a cheek against his chest. I’d rather listen to your heart.
“Do you have to go back to Vancouver tomorrow?”
“Hell, no.” He nuzzled into my neck. “They know they have to start getting along without me.” He held back my hair to look at me. “I gave notice. I know that scares you, but it’s not like before, Rach. You don’t have to be afraid of a future with me.”
“I’m not.” I smiled, so touched by his concern. “I understand now what taking a leap of faith means. I want to do that with you, and I was serious when I thanked you before. You probably don’t realize the effect you’ve had on me—on the decisions I’ve been making lately about my job.” I placed my hand over his. “I might be quitting, too. Sooner than later.”
“Really?” He squeezed my hand, almost like he was afraid I might bolt. But he had no idea how my decision only made me feel closer to him. After a moment, his grip relaxed. “You mentioned Redbook earlier.”
“They offered me a pretty good freelance contract for a newbie. I never thought I’d even consider leaving the security of corporate America for the great unknown.”
He kissed my temple. “We’ll take that leap together.”
“Thank you.” I hovered over his mouth for a second, then kissed him. Hard.
“You’re welcome,” he said, sucking in an inhale when I allowed him to breathe again. “Though I’m not sure what I did.”
“You were just being you.”
He ran a hand down my back, curling it around my hip. “What time are you going into work tomorrow?”
“Hmm.” I wrapped a leg around his. “I think I’m feeling another round of appendicitis coming on. Better stay home.”
“Finally some good timing for us.” He pulled me onto his chest, kissed me, told me he’d missed me and that he loved me. While locked in his arm, it was like something had been returned to me, a missing piece from my soul I didn’t know was gone. Suddenly, I remembered how it felt to be one half of two.
A while later, Oliver nodded off. When I rolled off the couch, he jerked awake and grabbed my hand. “Where are you going?”
I knelt down and leaned over his sleepy face. “Shhh.” I ran a hand through the front of his hair. “I need my phone. I want to leave my boss a voicemail about tomorrow.”
He yawned and rubbed his nose, eyes closed. “Tell Moron Bruce you won’t be in ‘til next week.” He ran his hand down my arm, resting it on my hipbone. “I had a scary dream, so you can’t leave me.”
It was my turn to watch him sleep. And later, waking up. My favorite part, too.
I kissed his eyelids. “Never.”
The power was still out and the room felt stuffy, so I cranked opened one of the huge picture windows. Fresh air and sounds of the city drifted in. I inhaled and leaned against the ledge, staring out at the San Francisco skyline, only partially lit.
I placed that call to Bruce, and Oliver and I didn’t leave his house for three days, living quite contently on pancakes and Chinese delivery and each other. I sent Sarah one text: the “thumbs-up” emoticon. I sent Oliver one text from bed: the heart with an arrow.
…
Six months after I’d left NRG Interactive, I reminded him of something else I remembered from that night at the hospital. “You promised we’d get married and have ten kids, Oliver. And you said you would take me away.”
He stood from the couch, walked over to where I sat at the dining room table, and closed my laptop with the new manuscript I was preparing for Redbook. “Such impatience, Rach.” He smiled. “Four days from now isn’t soon enough?”
I glanced past his shoulder at the long garment bag hanging outside the closet. It was unzipped, showing the top of my new white dress, the one Oliver hadn’t seen yet.
I bit my lip and looked up at him. “Why didn’t we elope?”
“Because our sisters would kill us.” He pulled me off my chair and into his arms. After a quick squeeze, he took my left hand, kissed the spot next to my diamond ring, then moved my hand to the top of his right shoulder. “And because I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” We did a slow box step around the dining room, while he hummed our “first dance” song in my ear.
I smiled so big my cheeks hurt, while I clung to Oliver…the man of my dreams, my partner and coach in taking scary leaps, the nineteen-year-old boy who brought me Dawson’s Creek and took care of me every day.
“After this technicality is out of our way”—he spun me under his arm then bent to kiss my neck—“we’ll get started on those ten kids. Twenty, even.”
“Keep dreaming,” I whispered.
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to my tireless Entangled Publishing team for making another book dream of mine come true. Thank you to unbelievably patient and amazing friends who helped me by reading drafts, listening to me rant, meeting for lunches, and being on IM whenever I was super needy—which has been pretty often lately. Hugs and kisses and sexy guys in suits to you all!
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Ophelia London was born and raised among the redwood trees in beautiful northern California.
Once she was fully educated, she decided to settle in Florida, but her car broke down in Texas and she’s lived in Dallas ever since. A cupcake and treadmill aficionado (obviously those things are connected), she spends her time watching arthouse movies and impossibly trashy TV, while living vicariously through the characters in the books she writes. Ophelia is the author of SOMEDAY MAYBE; DEFINITELY, MAYBE IN LOVE; ABBY ROAD; the Perfect Kisses series including: FALLING FOR HER SOLDIER, PLAYING AT LOVE, SPEAKING OF LOVE, and MAKING WAVES; and the upcoming Sugar City series for Entangled’s Bliss line. Visit her at ophelialondon.com. But don’t call when The Vampire Diaries is on.
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