Page 65 of Mine to Worship

“We’re going home” I announce.

Everyone laments, but not Ellia. She mouths, “Thank you” and grabs a hold of my arm as we leave the bar.

Back at the chalet, I wait for her under the covers.

After she’s done in the bathroom, she walks sluggishly to the bed. Her head hits the pillow and her breath immediately deepens. She starts to snore softly. Even her snoring is cute, she sounds like a toy train. I pull her to me, and her palm rests on my heart.

“I love you so fucking much. You own my heartbeats, my thoughts, my dreams.”

Nothing compares to this, to the simplicity of wanting someone enough to stay, be there, and love. I fall asleep, too, with an odd sense of peace.

Chapter 25

Ellia

My body temperature has risen unbearably with our bodies snuggled together. I climb out of bed and open the window. Pregnancy and summer, not the best combination. Kian wipes the sleep from his eyes and, when they open, they seek me.

“It’s hot. I just want to dive into a tub of ice.”

“Come here,” he says, patting the spot next to him.

I plop down on the bed and he takes my lips into a kiss.

“You are incredible,” he whispers, his mouth kissing my neck. “You amaze me. Thank you for everything.”

This man and his words. I am an emotional wreck.

His palm caresses my belly. The whole destiny thing might not be so far-fetched. Here we are, together, with billions of people on the planet, and still our hearts wanted only each other.

“We created life,” I murmur. With every day, the enormity of this meaning envelops me.

“Yes, we did.” He is beaming, pride etched on his face.

“I would do it again, with you.”

Emotions flicker in his eyes, turning this moment sacred.

“You have no idea what that means to me,” he murmurs, and he pulls me down to his chest. Everything I am is his. My heart, my love, my life, and the baby inside of me is another extension of how much this is true, and I mean it. I place my chin on my hands, propped against his chest.

“I want this life with you, for as long as it will last,” I say.

His fingers caressing my back halt. I want to take it back because shadows cloud his face. He probably thinks I mean it until our deadline.

Kian clears his throat, the dreamy expression obliterated.

“You wanted to tell me something?”

“Oh, yes! Have you heard of Andre Garcia?”

“Yes, we met. What about him?”

“You know him?” I ask, my jaw hanging.

He sits up and rests against the headboard. “Yes, I was invited to some of his parties in New York and Paris several times,” he says as if it’s not a big deal.

“I can’t believe you know him.”

“I know a lot of people.”

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