Page 76 of Bride on the Dotted Line

He shakes his head. “This isn’t on you. It’s my choice. My father’s ego, the shareholders’ opinions, the whole fucking company … they don’t matter to me. I still mean what I said last night. I—I didn’t realize it before, but you showed me. I’m meant for something more.”

“Nick.”

“Sienna.” I watch him swallow. Inhale. “None of it matters to me as much as you do.”

“I …” My fingers flex at my side. I want to reach for him, but I need to know what’s going to happen next. I need to know he’ll be okay. “What will you do?”

Nick shrugs, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Open my restaurant. Spend every day doing something I love. Ask my wife out on our first date.” He grins at the face I make. “Not exactly in that order.”

My wife.“You don’t want to get divorced?”

He shrugs again, but his eyes are intent on me. “Seems like a lot of unnecessary paperwork. I’d just ask you to marry me again.” Warmth surges inside me as his fingers glide down my arm. He holds my left hand between us. “You forgot this, too, by the way.”

Nick presses something into my palm. My wedding ring. It glints in the sun, diamond sparkling.

“I’ll love you for the rest of our lives,” he says quietly, “if you’ll let me.”

I gulp, my vision blurring. Tears drip off my chin—there’s no stopping them, this time.Love.He’s offering to love me. Not for the sake of a contract; not for only a moment, or a day, or a month. A steady love, something unshakeable. A bridge we build together.

A bridge we build for real.

I’m buzzing all over. From fear, excitement, and everything that comes with giving up hope, then opening a door to find a new path laid before you.

“Okay,” I say, stepping closer. For the first time, when I do something impulsive with Nick Harwood, I’m going to know exactly why I’m doing it. “I’ll let you. I want you to.”

I stand up on my tiptoes. The world moves with me as I close the space between us, fingers tight around my wedding ring, and bring my mouth up to his.

The kiss is hot and lingering, a slow, unspoken promise. We stay like that a moment, suspended in each other. Then, shoulders rounding, Nick crushes my body against his, moving his lips over mine like he’s been famished. His tongue flicks into my mouth, caressing me as if he’s been waiting centuries to memorize my taste. His hands run up my back. He whispers my name.

I think of the wedding, of the feeling of his mouth on my neck after the charity gala, and revel in the sweetness of this kiss finally beingours.It’s more than just allowed. It belongs to us.

“I love you too,” I tell him. It’s easy.

The sound he makes is pure relief, and he kisses me again, lifting me from the ground. When he sets me down, I can barely speak for needing more.

“What do you want to do now?” I ask him.

Nick slides my ring back on my finger. He’s still wearing his. I wonder if he ever took it off.

“Well, I might not currently have a long chain of restaurants attached to my name, but …” His mouth quirks, and he glances behind me, into my basement suite. “I can make you lunch. You got a kitchen in there?”

I roll my eyes at him, my heart practically glowing in my chest. “Are you seriously asking me if I have a kitchen? I’ve never heard you sound more out of touch with the common people, Mr. Harwood.”

His eyes glint. “Keep calling me that, and I’ll do anything you want, Ms. Hayes.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“How about entering a fake marriage, falling in love with your PR person, and giving up a billion-dollar company that’s been yours since birth?”

“Again?” He laughs, and before I know what’s happening, he leans down and sweeps me off my feet, holding me against his chest in the wedding carry we’re both familiar with. I nuzzle my face into his neck—home, I’m finally home—as he carries me over the threshold of my basement suite. “Can we eat first, at least?”

Epilogue

Nick, Two Years Later

It’s seven o’clock on a Monday night. Ember & Hearth is closed and empty. The yellow glow from the lights behind the bar shine across our smooth, vintage hardwood floor. Outside, the city hums, a distant, muted rhythm beyond the windows.

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