Page 106 of Long Shot

“I never thought I would have what Beck and Marco found,” he continues quietly. “Love wasn’t something I figured was for me. But . . . I love you, Reese. I didn’t plan it . . . and you know I like to plan things.”

I smile tremulously, twisting my fingers together, my heart now slamming against my breastbone. “I don’t think love is something you can really plan.”

“Right? That’s it exactly. It just crashes into you.” He meets my eyes. “I love you. I thought you should know that. And like I said, maybe it doesn’t make any difference, but I wanted you to know that. Before you go.”

I swipe under my eye. Damn these tears. I am not a crier. They just keep leaking from my eyes.

Is this for real? Is this happening? I study his face, his bronzed skin, sun-bleached hair, and earnest eyes, the ice blue warmed to a soft angora blue. Earnest. Apprehensive. Hopeful?

I have to tell him, too. “I love you, too.”

His eyes light up and his lips part. “Really?”

“Really.” My voice is shaking but I keep going. “I didn’t want to leave. But you . . . didn’t care and I thought you were just using me for sex, like all those other women, only more than one night, and even if I didn’t take the job, I couldn’t stay. Knowing that.”

“Fuck, no, I wasn’t using you! You were never like any of those others. Never.” His firm tone convinces me. Maybe because I already knew that, deep down inside. “Jesus, Reese . . . come here.” He sets the champagne down, reaches out and pulls me toward him and I go willingly, nearly throwing myself into his arms, relief and love and joy swelling up so huge inside me I could burst from it.

“When I was a kid, I couldn’t let myself feel things. If I let myself feel fear, I’d collapse. If I let myself feel hope, I’d be crushed. If I let myself care, I’d be broken.”

My chest feels like a band is tightening around it, stealing my breath.

“I had to shut things down to save myself. What kid could watch all that shit and not fall apart? So I didn’t let myself feel anything. And I still try to do that. I tried to convince myself I didn’t feel anything for you. But I was a fucking idiot. Because I do.”

He cups my face with both hands and kisses me . . . long, slow, so tenderly and lovingly, I melt, just disintegrate into a puddle of sticky, gooey, lovely gladness. I clutch at his shirt, pulling myself closer, opening my mouth to his, our tongues sliding together. I can’t get close enough, want to climb inside him.

“I love you.” He brushes his mouth over mine again. “So much.”

“I love you, too.”

He wraps his arms around me and crushes me to him, and I press my face to his chest, trying not to sob, because Jesus, this crying has to stop, only now I’m just happy, although still a little incredulous that this is happening.

Jack leaps up to the couch behind me and paws at my back, whining, and I laugh, lifting my head.

“He doesn’t like that you’re crying.”

“It’s okay, Jack. They’re happy tears.” I pat his head, then gently push him away.

“I can’t . . . Iwon’task you to give up your dream job,” Cade says, looking into my eyes. “I wanted to encourage you to follow your dream.”

“I know. And I think I love you even more for that.” I touch his face. “You told me not to make my decision based on fear. And I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to do that again.” I pause for a breath. “But I thought hard about it, and I wasn’t afraid to take that job. I could do it.” I meet his eyes.

He smiles. “I know you could.”

“I know it’s my dream job and I should be thrilled to work for Graham again and be part of something so exciting . . . but that’s not what Ireallywant. I worked my ass off in New York, and for what? I ended up with no life. I hardly ever saw my friends or family. Coming here . . . being part of something that’s like a family, making a contribution and making a difference . . . I love that.”

“Really? Are you sure?” He holds my gaze steadily.

“I’m sure. Dating the boss probably wasn’t the best idea . . .”

His lips twist into a crooked smile.

“But it’s actually nice being with someone who works in the same business, who has the same schedule, and understands the demands. I love working at Conquistadors.”

He closes his eyes on a long exhalation. “Thank God.” He opens his eyes again. “I would love it if you’d stay here and work at Conquistadors and be my girlfriend. But I understand if you don’t want to do that.”

I sniffle again. “I do want that.” I press the edge of my hand to my stinging nose. “Idowant to stay here. I love everybody here. I’ve made friends here. And most of all, I love you.”

He smiles a joyful, beaming smile that makes him look like that laid-back surfer dude again. “Wow. So you’ll stay?”

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