Page 67 of Fighting Gravity

“It’s my greatest pleasure. Truly.”

Janai glided off the dance floor, pausing at the periphery to speak to Rosie.

Tate couldn’t move. He wanted to. Hadn’t he just wished he could hold Rosie again? Why was he the one with trust issues now?

She moved his way, the dramatic dress flowing away from her legs. He smelled her cottony scent a second before he registered her warmth. He didn’t know which caused his muscles to tense.

“Rosie.”

“Tate.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

He had to know. He didn’t want to interpret what he felt pouring from her honey-colored eyes. He wanted to hear her say herself why she’d come.

She smiled the guileless, wide-open smile that had first drawn him in, and Tate relaxed slightly. She was still his Rosie, the woman who had taught him that love was worth every risk. That sometimes you didn’t get to choose legacy or love; sometimes the choice was made for you.

“I’m here for you. For us.”

Her musical voice washed over him. The tension in his gut faded.For us.He swept her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. She was pliable and warm, his fate in beautiful form. Out loud, he just said, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” she whispered as her arms went around him. “Thank you for waiting for me to figure us out.”

Tate leaned back to take in the real-life features he’d missed so much over the past couple of months. Flushed skin, long neck, wide eyes full of unmasked love. She had yet to say the words, but he felt them. “I didn’t mind waiting. For me, there’s only you.”

He tugged her closer and claimed her mouth without warning. However Rosie had fixed herself, whatever had happened to convince her they were worth fighting for, Tate was so fucking grateful and he didn’t care who knew. Rosie was his. Finally.

Her mewl was relieved and more, and it brought the life back to his body. She sighed against his lips as her fingers toyed with the lapel of his tux. “I’ve missed you.”

No words could express how much Tate had missed her. He wanted to keep kissing her, but he begrudgingly acknowledged that a crowded dance floor probably wasn’t the most appropriate venue. Gloria would probably grade his performance, and not generously. He wove their fingers together. “Let’s get out of here then. I think we’ve waited long enough.”

She didn’t move. A playful smile crossed her crimson lips. “What, I don’t get to dance with the man I love?”

Tate huffed out a laugh. He felt weightless. Complete. “Say that again.”

“I love you, Tate.”

“One more time.”

She squeezed his hand, grinning. “I’m in love with you. I would very much like you to be mine.”

“I am yours. I’ve always been yours. A dance it is. I’m in a giving mood tonight.” He drew her closer with his hand against the small of her back. He set the rhythm and she followed his lead beautifully.

“In a giving mood? In that case, I want one dance, two burgers since I haven’t eaten at all today, and three orgasms.”

Tate dropped a quick, scorching kiss on her mouth and tried to hide the effect her words had on his body. “This song better be short,” he grumbled.

“Same with the line at In-N-Out.”

He stopped, Rosie bumping into him from the interrupted rhythm. A better idea had just occurred to him. One that involved empty cabins and no more secrets. “Rosie, get on a plane with me?”

She laughed. “What, right now?”

“Yeah, right fucking now.”

Her brows and lips quirked at the same time.

“You trust me?” he asked.

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