Ginger's Heart (A Modern Fairytale, #3)(131)

“A friend?”

His eyes flared with heat for a moment before he nodded. “A friend. Tonight you don’t need a distraction. You just need a friend who loves you.”

The word friend had worried her for a moment, but chased by a reminder of his love for her, it meant that he was restraining his desire for her tonight, and was here just as support. And it meant more to her than he could ever know.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper, her tears breaking the words.

He leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her lips before drawing back.

“You look . . . g-good together,” said Gran, watching them from her hospital bed. “Like you . . . f-finally f-found . . . your way.”

“I think we have, Gran,” said Ginger, no longer trying to stop the tears that were rolling down her cheeks.

Cain took her hand, threading their fingers together, and Ginger fairly sighed at the unconditional love and gentle support he was offering her tonight. She didn’t know how desperately she’d needed him until he arrived, and now that he was here, she felt that she could handle anything.

“W-why you c-cryin’ . . . Ginger? Is . . . someone . . . d-dyin’?” Kelleyanne couldn’t smile anymore, but Ginger could almost hear the familiar lilt of a smile in her tired, breathless voice. “Whoever it is . . . I hope . . . they had . . . as g-good a . . . l-life as m-me.”

After such a long speech, she sighed, long and hard, and it almost broke Ginger to see her strong, resilient grandmother fading so fast.

“Now, y’all . . . send in . . . R-Ranger and Amy . . . t-to see their . . . m-momma.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she sighed with a long, labored breath. “C-Cain . . . t-take care . . . of m-my . . . l-lionhearted . . . l’il g-gal.”

Her voice wilted and weakened on the last words until gal was almost the breath of a whisper.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Cain. “I will. I promise.”

Ginger still clasped his hand as she stood up, leaning down to kiss her grandmother’s sleeping face before letting him lead her from the room. As soon as they were in the hallway, Cain’s strong arms wound around her, pulling her against his chest. Her forehead landed just below his shoulder as silent sobs racked her body.

He held her tightly and rubbed her back. He said, “Go on and cry, darlin’” and “It’s okay, baby” and “Cain’s got you, Gin,” until her tears were spent and she took a deep, sobbing breath, looking up into his face.

“You will never know—I will never be able to express—what it means to me that you came here tonight. Cain,” she said, shaking her head as she reached up to cradle his face, “I love you. I never stopped. I never will.”

He gasped lightly, furrowing his brows together as he had yesterday, when he told her he loved her. And then he exhaled, letting the words “You love me” catch a ride on the long release of breath.

She nodded. “I do. I always have.”

He pulled her closer, his lips near her ear, his voice strangled with emotion. “Thank God. You love me.”

“I don’t know how to live without lovin’ you, Cain Wolfram. Promise me . . . promise me you’ll never break my heart again.”

“I promise,” he said. “Your heart’s been broken enough for two lifetimes, princess. From now on, we keep it whole. I’ll keep it whole, ’cause it’s mine now.”

She rested her weary head against his chest, amazed that such a beautiful, long-awaited moment between them would happen in the corridor of a hospital, with her gran’s days dwindling down so quickly nearby.

But then, she thought, this is a moment that matters, really matters: a moment when life has served up a platter of cold awful, and the man who loves you takes a seat beside you at the table to eat his share of your sorrow.

This is the moment you know that you can trust him, that you can trust his love, and that your heart will be safe within his keeping, Ginger. This—right here, right now—is the first moment of your forever with Cain Wolfram.

“Gin,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, “if you can’t make Friday . . . if you need to be here . . .”

“No, Cain,” she whispered. “Friday’s ours.”

“I’d understand, princess,” he said, his voice strained but level.

“I know you would,” she said, leaning away from his chest to smile at him through her tears. “But she still has a little time left. And I want to be with you.” She leaned up on tiptoe and pulled his face down to hers. “I need to be with you.”

***

Cain was buzzing on Friday.

He’d woken up at the crack of dawn and gone for a five-mile run before heading home for an hour of free weights. The Navy had been an opportunity to get his ass in tip-top shape, and he wasn’t about to let himself go now that he’d embarked on civilian life. But the whole time he was running and lifting, one thought buzzed in his head: She’s all mine as of seven o’clock tonight. All mine.

Ginger arrived on time at noon, her cheeks flushing pink when they made eye contact in the garage bay as she walked into the showroom, and it was so f*cking cute, he had to keep himself from reaching for her in front of the customers who’d arrived early. You’re thinking the same thing I am, princess, and I hope you want it just as bad.