Page 63 of Safe With Me
“Andrea wanted one.” I dropped my gaze to trim a piece of fir. His attention as I resumed this little hobby had me feeling oddly shy, which made no sense. It was just a wreath.
“Still, I’m glad.” Setting the pizza aside on the island, he touched gentle fingers to my jaw. “I want you to have good things.”
At the sincerity in his voice, my lips curved into a slow smile. With the memory of him whispering my name against my skin after we’d both come last night, I unfolded from the chair and tiptoed up to kiss him. His arms wrapped around me, and he held on, drawing out the kiss into something slow and gentle and sweet.
Something real.
Cradling me close, he rubbed his cheek against mine. “Hannah.”
My eyes burned, and I blinked. In my chest, my heart squeezed at the way he murmured my name. This was my Tate, the real one. The one from weeks ago, that night at the Millhouse? He’d been a shadow of the scared, hurting boy he’d been after he lost his parents. His remorse over his treatment of me rang genuine, and I believed he wanted me, us, even if that was a shallow us with tight boundaries.
I closed my eyes, leaning into him. “That night at the Millhouse with Elizabeth.”
He tensed, and I pulled back, lifting my gaze to meet his. “I know you feel awful about it.”
A spasm moved over his face, a muscle flicking in his cheek. “Hannah–”
I laid a fingertip on his mouth. With a small shrug, I stroked my fingers along his jaw, his stubble a pleasant rasp against my skin. I smiled. “I forgive you.”
His lashes fell, and an exhale shuddered up from his chest. He crushed me against him. “Baby.”
Flattening my hands on his back, I curved into him. With my face pressed to his throat, I stroked his spine and sensed the tremble that moved through him.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against my temple, tightening his arms to draw me even closer.
“You don’t have to say it again.” I breathed the words along his throat. “Let’s leave it behind us.”
He shuddered once more. “Sugar, I’m going to fuck up because I’m a guy. But not like that, never again.”
“I believe you.” I smiled at theI’m a guy. That made sense because, well, I knew all about how Andy and Trace were great husbands and still did stupid stuff sometimes.
He lifted his head, his gaze fierce. “I want you to be safe with me. I’ll work at that, Hannah.”
The words rang with the solemnity of a vow. My vision blurred with a wash of tears.
A groan rumbled free of his chest. “Please don’t cry.”
“It’s good crying.” I hugged myself into him, and we stood in that simple embrace for several long moments.
Loosening his arms but still holding me, he took a step back. A hint of panic twisted his features. “I don’t know what to do next.”
I laughed, joy bubbling up in me. “Me, either. But we have common sense. We can figure it out.”
“I want us to be real, Hannah. I know we said we’d skip the love part–” He hesitated, his voice a little strangled. “-- but that doesn’t mean we can’t be real.”
“It doesn’t.” The idea we’d decided against love set off a little pang in my chest, but we’d both been hurt. We needed to feel safe, and skipping the love part allowed us that. I tilted my head toward the wreath frame. “I never really know what those look like until I’m part way into making one. We might be the same. We start creating with what we have, and it comes together into something unique and pretty.”
His eyes lit, glowing like I’d handed him Christmas morning.
“Okay.” He dropped a kiss on my lips. “You’re too smart for me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously.”
He smacked my ass, an open-handed swat that stung – and excited.
“Hey.” I pushed at his shoulder, not moving him at all, then tried the whole wrapping my ankle around his move. That didn’t work either, only serving to bring my body into close contact with his.
One hard arm banded about my waist, he grinned down at me, looking younger and lighter, a glimpse into a Tate I’d never really known. My breath hitched, and his smile widened.
