Page 83 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
God, this woman. The longer I look at her, the harder my heart pulses. On top of the raw desire I feel for her every minute of every day, there’s affection that runs deeper than I’ve ever felt for anyone. There’s protectiveness—it hits like a punch to the gut, the realization that I’d do anything for her and fight any battle if it meant that I could keep her safe. There’s contentment—I’ve never felt as happy as when I’m with her.
And then, just like it did during the wedding ceremony, my heart shatters on the next beat when I think about just how much I love her.
So damn much.
I think back to the moment when our stares connected while she stood next to her cousin at the makeshift fireplace altar. As the officiant spoke about being brave enough to love, I could swear I saw something different in the look in her eyes. It was like she was seeing me in a whole new light...like she could love me too, the same way that I love her.
I shoved the thought aside so I could focus on helping the wedding go off without a hitch. But I planned to talk to her about it afterward—I wanted to tell her that I love her.
That’ll have to wait till morning now that she’s asleep. When I scoop her into my arms and lift her up, she doesn’t stir. I walk to her bedroom and set her gently on the bed before slipping her shoes off. I peel away her dress, then slip off the T-shirt I’m wearing and slide it over her head. She’s sleeping so deeply that her eyes don’t even flutter.
When I tuck her under the comforter and press a kiss to her forehead, she scrunches her face slightly, then lets out a soft moan. I’m still, hoping I haven’t woken her up. When she doesn’t move, I start to twist away, but the feel of her fingers gripping my forearm causes me to freeze. Her eyelids peel open, revealing a sliver of that beautiful carob gaze cloudy with sleep.
“I love you,” she mewls before shutting her eyes.
Those three whispered words send my heart skidding. I’m grinning like a madman as her hand falls away from my arm and that heavy, steady rhythm of breathing resumes, signaling that she’s fallen back to deep sleep.
But I’ve never felt more alive. My body feels like it’s floating.
I switch off the light and crawl into bed next to her, pulling her into my chest like I do every night we’re together. Even in her sleep, she curls into me. Like always.
On the inside I’m a fireworks show. I’m every color of the rainbow. I’m pulsing with joy and bliss.
I nuzzle the top of her head and close my eyes. “I love you too,” I whisper.
I wake to my bladder screaming for a piss. As quietly as I can, I slip out of bed and pad to the master bathroom to relieve myself. I blink as my vision focuses, taking in the soft orange glow peeking through the cracks in the blinds. Must be just past dawn.
When I slide back into bed, Harper curls into me.
“Morning,” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.
“Morning.” I gaze down at her adorably puffy face. “You were pretty chatty in your sleep last night.”
There’s a recognition that flashes behind her eyes before she pulls a goofy scrunched face. And that’s when I know she remembers what she said.
“I said it last night, but I’ll say it again. I love you too, Harper.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, her expression shifts to shock. A beat later she’s beaming. “I thought I was dreaming when you said that.”
“Not a dream. I mean, being with you these past couple of months has been an absolute dream. I love living with you, working with you, eating with you, joking with you, being ordered around by you.”
She slides her hand up my chest. The feel of her warm-silk skin sends goose bumps across my body.
“I love you, Lewis.” She says it fully awake, looking right at me, zero doubt in her eyes. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I know there’s still so much we have to work out. I mean, you’re moving back to LA in a couple of weeks. You’ll be on set, jetting off to whatever location you’re filming next. Who knows the next time we’ll—”
Gently, I press my palm over her mouth. Her chuckle rumbles against my hand.
“I know we lead very different lives,” I say. “It probably won’t be easy.”
That glimmer in her eyes dims, but I quickly explain. “But we’ll figure it out. What I want more than anything is to be with you, Harper.”
She wraps her fingers around my wrist and pulls my hand away from her face. Her gaze turns pointed, serious.
“Do you really want that, Lewis? Because my life is here in the Bay Area. I want to be close to my family and volunteer and work. I don’t see myself ever wanting to move to LA.”
I can’t deny the pang of disappointment that lands in my gut at what she says—but I also can’t blame her. Her whole world is here. I know just how much this place means to her—how much it means for her to live in her grandparents’ house, close to her family. I can’t expect her to give that up, just for me.
“I’ll figure out a way to have both you and my career,” I say, hoping with everything in me that she hears the conviction in my voice, that she can feel just how much I love her.
