All of Me (Inside Out #5.5)(29)

“She’s going to be a crazy woman by the time the wedding happens. Let’s preserve her sanity as long as we can for our own good, and go sample the cakes.” He wraps his arm around me and leans in close, his breath a hot fan on my neck. “And then I’ll have you for dessert.”

I laugh as we start toward the sliding glass doors. “We don’t have time for that.”

“Cake sampling is five minutes. You, an hour.”

Thanks to that erotic promise, I’m all smiles as we enter the building.

When we pass the security post, there’s a fifty-something man in a suit there.

“I miss Jacob,” I say after we’re out of his earshot.

“The new man’s name is Max,” Chris says. “He’s ex-military and very capable.”

I sigh as we step into the elevator. “I don’t like change.”

The doors shut and Chris slides his hand to my hip. “Things change, baby.”

“Meaning us? Will we change, too?”

“Yes. We’ll get old and gray.” The doors ding and the elevator opens. “But I’ll still be able to do this.” He lifts me and throws me over his shoulder, and I laugh, remembering the first time he did this, and his “Me Tarzan, you Jane,” proclamation.

“Put me down, Tarzan,” I order as he walks down the living room stairs and crosses to the kitchen door. “The blood is rushing to my head.”

He stops dead in his tracks. “Holy shit.”

I try to twist around and see what he’s seeing. “What?”

He slides me down to the floor and turns me to face the kitchen island. Flowers cover every bit of it, and just beyond, in the windowed alcove, our kitchen table is completely buried under a variety of cupcake choices.

“We sure aren’t going to be hungry if we taste all those cupcakes,” I say.

“We aren’t doing this today. There’s no way the florist and the bakery had the same deadline.” He pulls his phone from his pocket. “This is Katie’s deadline, and she’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

I grin, walking to the counter to inspect the many bouquet choices, immediately eying an arrangement of pink roses.

“I know, Katie,” I hear Chris say. “Yes. I know. Yes.” I smile, certain she is lecturing him, one of the few people on the planet who can pull it off. “Pay triple if you have to,” he finally says. “Just get us until tomorrow. We have the memorial. Not exactly the right day to be making wedding decisions.” There is a long silence. “Yes. No. I need—Katie. Tomorrow.”

I walk toward the cupcakes, and the counters by the fridge and stove are also covered in flowers, including another pink rose arrangement. I lift it from the vase to see how it’s different from the one I already admired. Chris enters the kitchen and I glance at him. “Everything okay?

“Tomorrow is fine,” he replies, stepping up beside me.

“Thank goodness.” I show him the flowers. “I like these. I love the whole leather and pink thing. It’s so us. I still think you should wear your leather jacket, not a tux.” I glance up and go still at the way his expression has gone all hard lines and tension. “What’s wrong?”

He takes the flowers from me and sets them back in the vase, his hands going to my waist as he backs me against the wall. “One day,” he says, his voice a tight band of well-contained emotion, “I’ll want the whip again.”

My hands go to his upper arms. “What just happened?”

“Katie. Something she said.”

“What could she have possibly said to make you think about the whip, Chris?”

“Nothing I want to talk about when we need to be ready to leave in an hour and a half.”

“We can cancel dinner. You’re what’s important.”

“We aren’t canceling; we came back early for that. And I’m not letting this interrupt our lives. Ever. But I need to know that you know this battle isn’t over. Tell me you can handle it.” It’s a terse, urgent command.

“I know that. And I can handle it. We can handle it.”

“I won’t go there again, I promise. I’ll want to, but I won’t. If I didn’t believe that with everything I am, Sara, I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me.”

“I believe you, Chris.”

“It builds. I never know the trigger. Maybe it’s the next Dylan—and there will be another Dylan, through our charity work. Or maybe it’s a nightmare about the shooting. I don’t know what it will be, but it will happen. But you need to know this, Sara: I’ll tell you. I won’t hide it. I won’t shut you out.”

“I know. Remember when you told me to see you? To really see you? I do, Chris. I really see you, and I love every part of you. I love you,” I repeat.

He swallows the proclamation with a kiss that is more than simple passion. It is a question that I’ve answered before, but something Katie said made him doubt, and I know what he means by triggers. There are things that make me remember Michael. Things that make me remember my father, and fear Chris will one day leave me. But Chris no longer sets those triggers off for me. No matter what he feels now, I am not afraid that this is the end.

He tears his mouth from mine, his gaze heavy-lidded, his desire so raw and palpable that I’m right there with him in an instant, wet, hot, and in need in a way only he can satisfy.