Page 135 of Reckless Vow

Or worse, she wouldn’t choose me.

No, I need her to work through it and realize what she really wants. What she’s willing to give up.

Fuck. I left her waiting there.

I take off my clothes, wetting a hand towel before I return to the bedroom.

She smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I should shower.”

I kiss her forehead. “Baby, you didn’t sleep on the flight. Let’s catch up on sleep, and then we can deal with other adulting tasks.”

Gently, I wipe between her thighs while she watches me with hooded eyes. There is sadness in them, but maybe it’s just fatigue.

Fuck, I’m tired to the point of not being able to think.

I get us both bottled water.

I draw the curtains closed.

I feel like a robot, just executing the motions while Brook follows me with her gaze.

She gulps down the bottle and turns to her side.

I slide under the sheets and take her in my arms, pulling her as close as possible. She melts into me.

Her shoulders tremble and then shake. I tense. Is she crying?

“Brook?”

She turns to me, chuckling. “The poor bellhop.” She gets the words out and bursts into full-blown laughter. Fuck.

It’s contagious, and maybe we’re just delirious from exhaustion, but we both dissolve into hysterical cackles.

Brook wipes her cheeks, still grinning. “God, it feels good to laugh.”

“It does.”

She turns to me now, her face shadowed by the darkness in the room, but her eyes glow.

She cups my cheek and traces her fingers around the scruff of my jaw.

My heart hammers against my chest. Just fucking kiss her, asshole. Take the risk.

“You got us a beautiful place here.” That’s not what I expected her to say, but I focus on theusin that sentence.

“Only the best for my wife,” I tease her, but a part of me is begging her to choose me. To become my real wife. To tell the world.

That part is overwhelmed by the very firm belief that we found some tentative happiness in Portugal, but it can’t last here.

Because while I wish she’d choose me, I don’t want her to have to choose.

Maybe if we stay around longer, everyone will accept us naturally.

Maybe we can visit the baby and then return to Europe.

All the options seem unfair to Brook, who is already snoring softly beside me.

Despite the impending doom, she feels like mine. I watch her sleep, wondering just how long I get to be with her.

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