Page 74 of London, Love, & A Little Something Irish

I grin, pressing a slow kiss to her temple.

“Good morning, beautiful," I murmur against her skin.

She sighs, a dreamy, content sound as she leans into me. “Good morning.”

We make our way down onto the sand, the golden grains warm beneath our feet. The tide is rolling in, waves rushing up the shore, before slipping back. It’s just us out here and I know, this is the moment.

I turn to face her, sliding my arms around her waist, pulling her in close. She doesn’t hesitate. Her hands loop behind my neck, her fingers skimming the ends of my hair. She looks up at me like she already knows what’s coming.

And maybe she does.

I take a slow, steady breath, but my heart is racing.

“Nataly,” I say, my voice low and thick. “I love you.”

Her lips part slightly, and I see worlds and stars reflected in her gaze.

“I’m in love with you,” I continue, the words flowing out now, unstoppable. “I love everything about you. The way you laugh, the way you see the world. You’re sunshine to me.”

Her fingers tighten against the back of my neck. Her breath hitches.

And then, in the softest voice, filled with something so tender it nearly undoes me, she whispers, “I love you too, Nathan.”

I don’t think. I just move.

I crash my lips to hers again, holding her close, sealing this moment between us. Then, with a wicked grin, I scoop her up, toss her over my shoulder, and head straight for the water.

She shrieks, giggling like crazy, smacking my back as she laughs.

I’m ready for a lifetime of this. A lifetime ofher.

28

Nataly

2 months later

It’s the end of August, and I’m finally back living in London! And in CANARY WHARF. It still feels surreal.Me? Living here?Every time I step off the bus and onto the plaza, surrounded by all the fast-walking, well-dressed businessmen and women, I have to resist the urge to straighten my posture and walk like I belong. But then I reach the escalator.TheEscalator of Doom. And suddenly, I’m gripping the railing for dear life, very aware that one wrong step could send me plummeting into business-casual chaos.

Still, I love this place. It’s technically just outside Canary Wharf, in the Isle of Dogs, buttomayto-tomahto. I live in a house with three lovely women from church, right by the Thames. Unintentionally, I’ve continued my tradition of living by water, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Nathan and I had such a great summer, alternating weekendsbetween London and Bournemouth. He surprised me with visits a couple of times, and every single one made me fall for him a little more. But I won’t lie, I’m glad to be back. I missed my life in London. I missedusin London. I love this city, this church, this rhythm of life that feels right. And I love that Nathan is right here in it with me.

And today, we’re making the most of it.

If I can even call it “today” yet. It’s 3:30 a.m. I’m wrapped up in my leather jacket, standing outside my house, waiting for the low rumble of Nathan’s motorbike to break the stillness of the early morning.

I hear it before I see it. That familiar growl in the distance, getting closer, until he pulls up, parking a little ways away so he doesn’t wake up the entire street. See? Thoughtful and hot. I already love him, but man, Ilovehim.

I grab my pink helmet—yes, I bought a pink one, the only sensible choice for me,obviously—and stride toward him. He’s sitting on the bike and I swing my legs over and throw my arms around his waist, breathing him in.

“Hey, beautiful.” His voice is gravelly from sleep, sending a shiver down my spine.

I squeeze him tighter, my face against his back. It’s too early for this level of swoon, but here we are.

“Hey, babe.” I’m already anticipating that first good-morning kiss, squeezing him extra from behind, and he chuckles.

“Kisses later.”

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