Unbreakable (Cloverleigh Farms, #4)(63)



When he looked over my shoulder, our eyes met in the mirror, and two seconds later, he exploded inside me, his body going still, an arm hooking around my waist, his chest heavy against my back as his cock throbbed inside me. When the spasms subsided, we were still for a moment. He laid his forehead on my shoulder.

Chills broke out across my skin, and I shivered. But it was a good shiver—one of anticipation for the future, of the promise of being happy again, of all the possibilities that lay ahead.

Henry picked up his head. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? Was I too rough on you?”

“No. I might have some explaining to do about the rug burns on my knees, but I am more than okay.”

“Good.” He planted a kiss on my shoulder. “Because there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Sounds serious.” I was teasing him a little—my sweet, sexy, serious Henry—but he nodded.

“It is, kind of.”

“Oh, okay. Give me a minute?”

“Of course.”





Henry waited in my bedroom while I went into the bathroom to clean up a little. When I came out, he was standing by my dresser, looking at a framed photo of my kids when they were little.

“Did you take this one?” he asked.

“Yes.” I pulled a new pair of underwear from a drawer and slipped them on beneath my skirt. My feet were bare—I’d kicked my heels off on the way to the bathroom.

“Cute.”

“They are. And hopefully I’m not messing them up too much.”

He turned toward me, his hands in his pockets. His top shirt buttons were undone, and he hadn’t put his tie back on yet. His hair was adorably mussed. “Did you ever talk to Whitney last night?”

“Yeah. I think we understand each other.” I hesitated before adding, “She asked if we were dating.”

He was quiet a second. “What did you say?”

“I said no.” I ran my thumb along a nick on the wooden dresser top. Probably I’d put it there with my hairbrush on a bad morning. “Isn’t . . . isn’t that the truth?”

“Is that how you want it?”

I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want to rush you, and I know we’ve been saying we don’t really know what we’re doing, and we don’t want to make this public yet, but . . . I feel something for you, Sylvia. And I don’t want to hide it.”

My heart swelled with hope, and I rose up on my bare toes as if buoyed by the feeling. “I feel something for you too.”

His arms came around me. “I was up all last night thinking about you. I know this isn’t what you planned. I know people might say we’re moving on too fast. A fucking boyfriend is the last thing you need and the last thing I ever thought I’d want to be at this point. But I want more than sneaking around with you. I mean, I want the sex, don’t get me wrong, but I want to take you on real dates too. I want to be good to you.”

I smiled. “You are good to me.”

“I want to be good to you out loud. I want to help you settle into your new life here—I want to be part of it. I want to take you back to that party and kiss you at midnight.” He kissed my lips. “I want you to be mine for real.”

I shook my head, feeling my throat get tight. “You’re crazy, you know that? You could have anybody you want.”

“I just want you, Sylvia.” He brushed my hair back. “Tell me there’s a way.”

I was overwhelmed by the way my heart was thumping. We could be so good together—I could feel it way down deep. But my fears wouldn’t dissipate just like that. “Henry . . . being with me won’t be easy.”

“Nothing good comes easy.”

“I have to make sure the kids are going to be okay with us. They’ve been through so much.”

“Absolutely,” he said firmly. “I know they come first.”

“And I’m still a little wary of . . . of letting myself fall. It’s not that I don’t trust you,” I went on quickly. “I know what kind of man you are. But it might take time for me to really feel safe turning over my heart. It’s just starting to feel whole again.”

“It’s okay,” he said, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Your whole heart is worth the wait.”

I moved in closer to him, pressing my cheek to his chest and closing my eyes, wishing I could silence those doubts inside me forever. “This feels too good to be true, Henry. Too much, too soon. Is it?”

“You’re safe with me, Sylvia.” His voice was deep, calm, and reassuring. “I promise. Everything is going to be okay.”

For the moment, I believed him.





We put ourselves back together, retrieved the bag of sparklers from the kitchen, and started down the path toward the barn, our breath visible in the icy dark. When we reached the door, through which the loud music blared, Henry turned to me. “Wait a second.”

“What?”

He put his hands on my shoulders. “It’s almost midnight, but I’m not going to be able to do this in there.”

I smiled. “You mean kiss me?”

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