Page 57 of Uxpectedly Ever After

Banks laughs, the sound raspy but real, and relief washes through me all over again. "Trying to get me naked, Freckles?"

"Yes," I admit, surprising myself with my honesty. I think I surprise him too by the way his eyes he stares down at me. "I've been thinking about what you said. At the house."

His whole body goes still, those hazel eyes of his suddenly so intense I almost can't look at them directly. Like staring into the sun.

"Tell me."

I take a deep breath, searching for the words that have been forming in my heart for the past hours—hell, if I'm being honest, the past months.

Years.

"I've spent my whole life being afraid of needing anyone," I start slowly, the words feeling strange in my mouth. "After my mom died and my dad left, it just seemed safer to rely only on myself. To never give anyone else the power to devastate me like that again."

His dirty fingers come up to brush a strand of hair from my face, so gently I might cry again. "I know."

"I thought being alone meant being safe," I continue, forcing myself to hold his gaze even though every instinct is screaming at me to look away, to protect myself. "But watching that fire on the news today, not knowing if you were okay... I realized being without you is the most dangerous thing I could do to my heart."

His intake of breath is sharp. "Clover—"

"Let me finish," I interrupt, pressing my palms against his chest. His heart’s racing in there, but I need to get this out before I lose my nerve. "God, I had this whole speech prepared in my head while I was watching that fire on TV, thinking you might be dead. And now I can't remember a single word of it."

I take a deep breath, my eyes locked on my hands against his chest rather than meeting his gaze.

"The thing is, I've spent my entire life organizing everything into neat little boxes with pretty color-coded labels. But you... you don't fit in any box. You're this hurricane that blew through my life, rearranged everything, and somehow made it all better."

I finally force myself to look up, meeting those hazel eyes that see right down to my soul.

"I hate that you made me need you.” A laugh bubbles up, nervous and a little hysterical. “But I do. I can’t do this life without you. And I love you and it terrifies me. Because loving you means accepting that you're always going to run toward fires. That you’re always going to need to help people even if that means risking yourself. That I might lose you." My voice cracks, but I push through it, digging my fingers into his shirt.

"But I've spent the last four hours watching that fire on TV, imagining life without you, and I realized something. Not loving you would be worse. Not having you in my life would be worse than any risk.”

His eyes are shining in a way I've never seen before, and it makes my throat tight so it’s hard to get words out.

"And the house..." I laugh, and it’s a little wet. The tears are starting to get in on the action now. "That ridiculous, beautiful house that you bought without consulting me or showing me a single listing, which is so completely not how normal people do things."

"Since when have we ever done anything the normal way?" he asks, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

"Fair point." I take one of his hands, pressing it against my stomach where our baby is growing. "I love the house, Banks. I love the nursery and the kitchen and that stupid spice rack you installed even though it makes no sense to you. I love that you considered my plants. I love that you made a space that's just for me. I love that you thought about all the things I need before I even knew I needed them."

I look up as his arms slide back around my back like he can’t stand any space between us. “But most of all, I love you. The firefighter who can't stop rescuing people, the man who learned how to make my grandmother's banana bread recipe when Imentioned missing it, the guy who puts my favorite mug under the coffee maker before he leaves for his shift so it's ready for me, and the one who somehow memorized every single place I'm ticklish just to make me laugh when I'm spiraling. Every stubborn, overprotective, ridiculously perfect inch of you."

"So does this mean you'll move in with me?" His voice is rough and I shiver. "Make that house our home?"

"Yes," I whisper, and the smile that breaks across his face is so beautiful it makes my chest ache. "But I have conditions."

I am still me, after all.

He laughs, his face lighting up with the same unbridled joy that only he can make me feel down to my bones. It makes him look about five years younger. "I would expect nothing less from you, Freckles. Hit me with your list."

"One," I hold up a finger, "you have to promise not to die in a fire. I mean it. You stay safe out there, or I'll kill you myself."

Banks's grin turns into something more serious. "I'm always careful. You and this baby are my whole world now." He doesn’t promise because we both know he can’t, so I let it go.

"Two," I continue, trying to ignore how his words make my heart do somersaults, "I want to paint the master bedroom. That beige is depressing."

"Whatever color you want," he agrees immediately. "Even if it's that weird purple you have in your linen closet here."

I wave him off. "That was here when I moved in and it’s ugly as hell. And three," I say, my voice suddenly shy, "I want you to fuck me right now and show me exactly how much you love me. Because I've been watching the news for four hours thinking you might be dead, and I really need to feel you alive inside of me."

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