Page 36 of Just Desserts in Pelican Point
“If you’ll still have me, I’m all in, Julie,” I say, stepping fully into the doorway now, but still not crossing the line between the foyer and her living room. “I want you. I want us. And if that means I have to work through every damn fear in my body, I will.”
She blinks, her jaw working like she’s holding something back.
I take a step closer. “But I need you to know I’m sorry. For all of it. For disappearing. For being too much of a coward to tell you what last night meant to me. I’m sorry I let my fear speak louder than my heart.”
I let the silence settle. Let the words hang there, waiting for her judgment.
My chest aches with the weight of it. The hope. The dread.
She could shut the door again; she could tell me I blew it, that she’s done.
But instead, she sighs—long and low—and finally says, “You’re lucky you’re hot.”
I blink. “What?”
A slow smile curves her lips, the smallest crack in her armor. “And I mean like… emotionally stunted, emotionally constipated, might-be-feral-but-looks-good-in-a-uniform hot.”
“I think that’s a compliment.”
She shrugs, stepping back. “It’s all you’re getting—for now.”
And then, quietly, she adds, “You’re lucky I didn’t lock the door.”
My pulse kicks.
“Can I come in?” I ask.
She meets my gaze, all fire and feeling, and slowly nods.
I close the door behind me and pull her into my chest. “I really am sorry, Julie.”
“Stop apologizing, but don’t do it again.”
“Never.”
She stays tucked against me, her cheek to my chest, and for a moment I think we can stand like this forever. But then she pulls back just enough to meet my eyes.
“I still don’t understand,” she says. “Was it really just fear?”
I exhale, voice low. “I didn’t think I was enough for you. I still don’t, but I know I can’t live without you, either.”
Her brow furrows, eyes darkening. “Marcus…”
“I’ve screwed up a lot of things in my life,” I say, brushing a hand against her cheek. “But you? You’re… more. And I didn’t think I deserved you.”
She stares at me, the tension shifting again—this time thicker, charged, but soft around the edges.
“Good thing it’s not up to you,” she says, grabbing the front of my shirt and tugging me forward.
And then she kisses me. Deep. Fierce. Like I’m the air she’s been holding her breath for.
I kiss her back, letting her set the pace, letting my hands tangle in her hair as the spark between us roars to life again.
She pulls me toward the hallway, fingers laced with mine. “I want you,” she says.
“Julie…”
Her smile is all heat. “No running this time.”
