Page 89 of Knotted Laces

“Why?”

“I—” A sigh. “It wasn’t a simple thing. I wasn’t open to connection—God, you know how long it took for your parents to win me over, and if I hadn’t seen your brothers’ relationships, hadn’t watched Lex fall, I wouldn’t have started to open my eyes and realize what I was missing. I was already feeling…unsettled in my life when we lost Tommy and—” Her throat works. “The move confirmed it. I wasn’t dealing with my mom showing up all the time, demanding money, any longer. But I also wasn’t in the Jackson fold and…I guess my life was empty. Work isn’t the same without Lex, and without that connection, without a boss to let me use it as a safety blanket—because Sandra is determined to help me find work-life balance—I’ve realized…I don’t want to be the person who’s entire existence is showing up at the office or solving a case or hiding behind solving everyone else’s problems so I don’t have to deal with my own bullshit.”

“Baby,” I murmur, drawing her closer. “How’d you get so smart?”

“Cinnamon rolls.”

Surprised, I laugh.

“I’m serious,” she says lightly. “If your mom’s cinnamon rolls hadn’t won me over, I would have still been stuck flailing around in emotional no man’s land.”

“And now you’re in love with me.”

She grins. “I am.”

“See?” I tease. “That’s not so scary to admit.”

“Very funny.” A swat against my chest, but I capture her hand, press a kiss to her palm.

“You know what this means, right?”

“Know whatwhatmeans?”

I waggle my eyebrows. “We get to have sex.”

Laughter bubbles up in her chest. “Don’t we do that all the time, anyway?”

“True,” I say as I heft her over my shoulder. “But now we get to have celebratory I-love-you sex and that’s a hundred times better.”

“Considering how—” She grunts as I start taking the stairs two at a time. “Considering how good normal sex is, that’s quite a statement to prove.”

I drop her on the bed, come down over the top of her.

“Luckily, I’m a hard worker.”

She grins. “Ahardworker,” she quips making me chuckle before her face goes serious. “Cam?”

“Yeah, cupcake?”

“Promise me.”

I brush my knuckles down the slender column of her throat. “Promise you what?”

“Promise me you won’t push me away like you did today. If you need space, fine, but will you please just ask for it next time?”

Damn.

Guilt slides through me as I settle my forehead against hers. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need an apology.”

“But I need to give you one.” I straighten, cup her jaw. “And I promise to talk to you instead of shutting you out from here on.”

She shudders, relief clinging to her expression. Then she nods. “Thank you, honey.”

“Any time.”

Her smile returns quick and easy, the serious moment replaced with humor and contentment andhomeas she settles back on my pillows, spreads her arms and legs and declares, “I’m ready for the hundred-times-better-I-love-you sex now.”

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