Page 132 of Townshipped
Our combined laughter fills the space between us. Em hasn’t released her hold on me. Which suits me since I never plan to let her go again.
“You were flying to Boston?” she asks. As if there’s any confusion as to why I’d be coming to her hometown.
“To see you,” I say. “I had to see you.”
“Me too,” she says more shyly than she should.
“And why did you need to see me?” I ask, wanting to hear her say it even though she’s right here. All my questions about us begin to evaporate as the reality sinks in. She came for me.
“I think you know,” she says, looking up at me through her lashes with an impish smile written across her face.
“I think I do too,” I tell her, shifting my tone from playful to just shy of predatorial. “I miss you, Em. Every minute of every day. You filled that house and turned it into a home. You made my life complete. I need you. I came to ask you if you’d come home to me. Come back to Bordeaux. With me.”
She smiles and then she’s on her tiptoes, melding her mouth to mine. I hold her to me, my hands flat on her back, securing us flush against one another. Our lips press softly together, stealing my ability to breathe—to think of anything but her. Em runs her hands down my back and then up into my hair, her fingers combing and gripping as the world melts away around us. Our kiss goes on, exploring, rediscovering, promising everything.
When Em pulls away, I brush a featherlight kiss across her cheek, inhaling the scent of her.
“I can’t get enough of you,” I whisper into her ear in my kiss-hoarse voice. “You’re here.”
“I am,” she says against my cheek. “This is crazy. I can’t believe this happened.”
I lean my forehead to Em’s.
I pull my head back to see her more clearly, to take in everything about her. My eyes rove her face, her lips, and then land on her eyes.
“I love you.”
Em’s eyes go wide.
“Those words sound so small for what I feel,” I tell her.
I’m tired of holding back, questioning, giving her space. Em’s mine. She needs to know. She was flying to see me. That has to mean something.
She looks at me, and I want to memorize the expression on her face—to capture it and replay it every day until I die.
“I love you too, Aiden. You are my home.”
I cup her cheeks and bring my lips to hers. She clings to me, kissing me back with the same urgency I feel.
Maybe I almost lost her. But I have her now.
I never thought I could feel this much for anyone.
“I’m not big enough to contain what I feel for you,” I confess to her. “It’s like a tidal wave.”
“Then we’ll have to contain it together,” she says.
“Together,” I echo to her. “That’s a plan.”
I pick her up and she squeals with surprise, but then she wraps her legs around my torso. We’re making a scene, but I couldn’t care less.
Our mouths fuse. I can’t get her close enough. She’s been too far away for too long. It’s been only weeks, but it feels like a lifetime. We don’t stop kissing. People pass by us. I sense some gawking. But I’m too swept up in Em to care.
“People are staring at us,” Em says, her mouth still on mine as she speaks and giggles nervously.
“Let them,” I say with a boldness she seems to bring out in me.
A small voice to the left of us says, “See, Mommy, that man is carryingher. I want you to carry me too.”
