Wherever It Leads(99)

“Do you now?”

“I so do.”

“Then get over here and show me.”

“On my way.”





The engine purrs as Presley slides the Mercedes up Fenton’s driveway. The headlights bounce off the stucco front and I see the curtains by the front door rustle.

“Thanks, Pres!” I shout, jumping out and slamming the door behind me. She honks as I round the front and starts to back down the driveway.

Quicker than I’ve ever sprinted in my life, my heartbeat matching my steps, I fly around the garage and up the front steps. The door opens as soon as I reach the top and I fling myself, breathless, into the arms of the man of my dreams.

He pulls me in tight, nestling his face in my hair. My face burrows into his white t-shirt. I feel at home. Like everything in my life has finally come together.

We just stand in the entryway, locked together, absorbing the moment. There are so many things I want to say, but the moment is so pure, so perfect that I’m afraid to spoil it with words that I’m sure won’t come out right.

“Fenton,” I whisper, pulling away just far enough to see his face. His eyes are creased, his forehead marred with the stress of dealing with everything these past few weeks. I run my hand down the side of his face and when he leans into it, I break a little bit inside. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His tone is crisp, his words definite. He lowers his face so he can peer inside my soul. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I do. I should’ve believed you.”

He chuckles, the sweet sound of amusement making me grin despite my guilt. “You should’ve. But,” he says, lifting his chin when I start to respond, silencing me, “I understand why you didn’t.”

“It was all too much, you know?”

His eyes, already heavy with stress and lack of sleep, crinkle even more as he grins. “It was. And now it’s over.”

Tears spring to my eyes, blurring my vision. “I can’t thank you enough for going after Brady. You brought him back to us, Fenton.”

“It was my responsibility to do that. I’d been trying to do it since the day he was taken. You have to believe that.”

“Brady believes that.”

“He’s a good man.”

“So are you. And Fenton, I believe that too,” I whisper. “I want you to know I can never repay you, but I’ll prove to you how much I appreciate what you’ve done and how sorry I am for not believing you. I have so much to make up to you and I will. I promise.”

He takes my hand and leads me into the living room. We sit on the sofa, the moon hanging low in the sky. The only light comes from it, swamping the room with a hazy glow. There’s no sound, just our breathing.

“How’s he feeling?” Fenton asks, his eyes shining. “He was a little sore on the plane.”

“He’s going to be fine,” I laugh. “He’ll get checked out again tomorrow, but he’s a doctor, you know.”

“I saw something about that,” he winks.

“I told him about you and I . . .”

Fenton’s face darkens. “You did?”

I nod.

“What did you say?”

“I just told him I’d met you and didn’t know who you were. And then I found out and was pretty shitty to you. But somehow, in the meantime, I kinda fell in love with you. I do love you, Fenton. I’m not saying I want to marry you tomorrow or anything,” I grin, making him laugh, “but I want to be here for you in the way you were for me. I want to make you laugh and smile and go with you on your trips and wear bikinis and make you mad so you’ll remind me who my man is.”

“No bikinis without me. That’s a deal breaker,” he says, trying to look stern.

“But I want to try this with you. For real this time. Starting over, me and you. Nothing lurking out there we haven’t said, no surprises. A real try.”

He laughs and drags me onto his lap. His hands lock around my waist and I can’t help the silly smile on my face as I look into his eyes.

“You make me believe in love,” he says, his voice soft. “I can see years of being together, taking trips, maybe even starting a family someday. I’ve never felt that way before. I’ve always felt like being with someone would be a compromise, that I would have to give up being me to be in that relationship. But with you, I want to do that. I want to make sure we figure this out so we are both happy. Together.”

I press my lips against his, the softness reducing me to a heap of mush. Our mouths fit together like they were made for one another, the dips and curves of our lips melding into the others’ perfectly.

“I don’t want you to have to give up being you for anything, especially me. I like you just the way you are.”

“I like me better when I’m with you.”

“Me too, Fent.”

“And I like when you call me that.”

Tossing my head back, I let out a laugh. For the first time in so long, happiness pours from my heart unbridled. When I look at him again, his face is cracked with a smile of his own. I kiss him once more for good measure and because I can. Because I’ve missed doing it.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asks.