Page 57 of Loving You Always

“I want you to claim me.” He touched the orchid charm hanging just outside the rounded collar of her dress. “The same way I claim you every time we’re in a room together.”

And he always did. Kisses, holding her hand, wrapping her in his arms. Even every look was a claim he staked on her. It probably always had been.

“For so long, I couldn’t claim you, Kerris. I couldn’t look at you. I couldn’t kiss you or touch you. You weren’tmine.” He slid his fingers into the hair at the back of her neck. “Now you are and I want everyone to know.”

“But I’m also still married to your best friend.”

“He’s not my best friend anymore, and I don’t care if someone blogs that we’re together, tweets it, takes pictures of it, puts it on a damn billboard. Good. Then the whole world will know where we stand.”

“You don’t have to live in this small town where everybody knows everybody and has opinions about everything. I don’t want to humiliate Cam. I don’t want to disrespect him, and I don’t want to be the one everyone’s talking about.”

“You don’t have to live here either.”

“What? Of course I do.”

“Not if you come live with me in New York.”

“Have you heard anything I’ve said?”

“Yeah, I just don’t care.” He smiled for the first time since she had entered the room. “Okay, I do care how you feel, and I’m willing to wait for you to move to New York.”

“Thank you.”

“But I want you there with me in two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

She already knew. Had seen this coming and had been bracing herself for it.

“To the fund-raiser my dad is hosting in New York. I want you with me.”

Kerris gulped back her irrational fear. Slapped down the lies about her inadequacy and inferiority. For years all they’d had was stolen looks and the loneliness of their imaginations. It was one thing to go out for dinner here, or to take a walk through Rivermont Park. Most of the time when he was here, they wanted to be alone anyway and stayed on the houseboat, which Walsh had bought for them to have some privacy. New York was Walsh’s home turf, the biggest stage in the world. The media took pictures of Walsh doing something as mundane as grabbing coffee in the morning. Imagine what they’d do with a story as twisted around and convoluted as theirs and Cam’s.

“Baby, I’m waiting.” Walsh dipped his head until he was level with her. His eyes were free of anger and frustration, and had started fogging with familiar hunger. “I really want to be done with this so I can kiss you.”

Kerris tilted up on her toes, aiming for his mouth. He turned his head at the last minute, looking back for confirmation.

“Not yet. Will you come with me to the fund-raiser? In New York? In front of everyone?”

He didn’t say it aloud, but his eyes asked the question.

Will you claim me?

She looked at his handsome face, the intense green eyes she lost herself in if she wasn’t careful. The tender hands even now stroking along her neck and caressing her collarbone. She couldn’t deny him anything. She couldn’t deny him—period.

“Will you come?” He asked again, hovering over her mouth, hands already pushing up her dress and squeezing her butt.

She was losing her mind wanting him, but before she capitulated and gave in to the storm that always broke between them, she gave him the answer he wanted.

“I’ll come.”

He gave her his devilish grin, gripping her thigh with one hand and sliding the other into her panties.

“That’s always music to my ears.”

Chapter Nineteen

Two weeks later, Kerris looked around the marbled, tiered space in the Metropolitan Museum of Art and reminded herself these were all just people. Beautifully dressed, wealthy people from esteemed families, who had attended all the right schools, but just people. At least she had the beautifully dressed part covered.

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