Brave Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #3)(62)

I’m afraid to turn toward him. I’m afraid I’ll see that this is a joke. I’m afraid I’ll see, once again, that he’s trying to deceive me.

But Tag won’t leave me with my fear. His big hands come to my shoulders and urge me to face him. And what I find when I do is sincerity. And desperation. And something that looks an awful lot like love.

“I made the biggest mistake of my life when I didn’t tell you about Chiara, when I didn’t tell you who I was. This stuff . . . all this stuff came between us. My lies came between us. I knew you’d never believe my words again, so I’m trying to show you in the only way I know how—by giving you a multibillion-dollar offering. By laying everything I have and everything I am at your feet and begging you to forgive me. To come back to me. To love me again.” Tag drops to his knees in front of me and takes my hands in his. “I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll do anything. Anything, Weatherly. Just ask it. Just say the words and it’s done. Whatever it is.”

I’m overwhelmed. I’m almost afraid to believe what’s happening, to believe what he’s saying. “Tag, I—”

“Please, Weatherly,” he interrupts brokenly, squeezing my hands and bringing them to the center of his chest. His face is crushed, his eyes dull and pleading. “Please don’t say no. I swear to God I don’t think I can survive it if you leave me again. I’m nothing without you. This life, this life that I’ve always loved, is shit without you. If you want to kill me, if you want me to die, this is how you do it. You walk out that door. You walk out of my life. But you might as well take mine when you go, because it won’t be worth a damn without you in it.”

My heart is pounding. My vision is filling. My soul is aching.

“I’m afraid, Tag. You hurt me so much and I . . . I . . .”

“I know, baby. I know I did. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll just let me. If you can just be brave. Brave enough to trust me. To try again. Just this one time, be brave enough to take a chance on me, knowing all there is to know. I wasn’t brave enough to tell you the truth and risk losing you, but I lost you anyway. Be braver than me. Risk for me. I promise you won’t regret it. Please, Weatherly.”

As I stare down into his gorgeous face through a galaxy of sparkling tears, I’m torn. My heart is telling me one thing, my head another. Despite their very different urgings, I know which one I’ll follow. It’s the one I have to follow. The only choice I have.

“I’m only saying yes because I have no choice,” I tell him quietly, warmed by the heat of his hands where they hold mine.

Tag’s expression falls. “You always have a choice, Weatherly. I would never force you to do something you didn’t want to do. I just thought . . . I guess I hoped . . .”

His voice trails off as he drops his head, his fingers loosening their hold on mine. When he releases them, I reach down and curl them into the front of Tag’s shirt. Surprised, he glances up at me just as I’m dropping to my knees.

“You listen to me, Tag Barton. No one can force me to do something that I don’t want to do. Not even William O’Neal. But this,” I tell him, tugging until he leans forward and his belly is pressed to mine, “this is what I want. It’s what I need. You are what I need. I’ve never been so miserable . . .” I close my eyes at the mere memory of the pain and heartache I’ve suffered these last weeks.

Hands cup my face and I crack my lids to find Tag’s fierce face less than an inch from mine. “Never. Again,” he growls.

“Never again what?”

“Never again will I hurt you. As long as this heart beats, as long as these lungs breathe, you won’t be hurt again. Not by me, not by anyone. You’re mine. And what’s mine, I’d die to protect.”

“You can’t save me from all the hurts of the world, Tag, but you can save me from yours. Please. Please, please, please don’t disappoint me. I don’t think I could take it again.”

“I won’t. Ever. I’d do anything for you. Anything.” When I say nothing, his grip tightens. “Do you understand that, Weatherly? Do you really know what it means to me when I tell you I love you? When I tell you that I can’t live without you?” He seems almost desperate again, desperate to make me understand what’s in his heart.

The thing is, I know exactly what he means.

“Yes. I do.”

“Then you know that when I give you me, when I make you this promise, I make it on everything that’s ever mattered to me. You’re safe with me, Weatherly Barton. You won’t ever have to be brave again. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice laced with emotion.

“Never? Not even for, say, childbirth?” I ask, giving him my first real smile since that fateful day when we got back from our honeymoon.

Tag’s face softens, so much so that it brings tears to my eyes. “Childbirth? Children? With me?”

“Yes, with you. Only with you. I’d love to have some.”

Lips brush mine in the sweetest kiss known to man. Tag then winds his arms around me and crushes me to him in an embrace that tells me finally . . . finally everything is going to be all right. I know now—as surely as I know my name and my birthday and that I fell in love with a man the first day that I met him—I know that my husband will make sure of it. Because he’s brave enough to love me. And I’m brave enough to love him right back.