Page 129 of Reckless King

My heart stutters and leaps in my chest. His blond hair is mussed, and there are shadows under his eyes. His shirt is wrinkled and half-pulled out of his pants.

“Tate? What’s wr?—”

He doesn’t give me time to finish the question before he’s on me. His big body crowds close, his hands framing my face. Those startling golden eyes of his sweep over me as if he hasn’t seen me in months rather than only a few days. I’m pretty sure mine are doing the same to him.

He strokes over the arches of my cheeks with his thumbs and tilts his head down. “Yes or no, Violet? And please, for fuck’s sake, say yes.” His voice is rough and threaded with emotion.

There’s no possible way I could say no to what he’s asking.

“Yes,” I breathe.

His mouth is on mine before my lips have finished forming the words. The taste of him has my eyelids drifting shut in relief. I’ve missed it. I’ve missed him. So much. All my reasons for telling him I needed space crumble like ash and float away. I don’t beat myself up about them though. I’m too busy twisting his already wrinkled shirt in my fists and pulling him as close to me as I can manage.

His tongue surges into my mouth, the kiss growing deeper, more frantic, and I swallow the groan that escapes him at the contact. He drops his hands to my ass and drags me against him, so his erection presses hard against my belly. It has need crashing over me in a wave. I tug at him and take a step back, urging him to follow me to the bedroom so we can strip out of our clothes and he can imprint himself onto my body again.

He pulls back and grasps my wrist, stopping me before I can put my plan into action. “We need to talk.”

Wariness creeps through the fog of need clouding my head.We need to talkdoesn’t usually end in sunshine and rainbows. I swallow. “Okay.”

I turn, prepared to take a seat at the kitchen table so I can hear him out, but he gently grips my shoulders, stopping me.

He cradles my face again and brings his in close. “I didn’t ditch my meetings and fly all the way back from California overnight to talk politely at the table. This conversation will only take a few minutes.”

It hits me then why he looks so rumpled. He flew all night and came here straight from the airport. “Why did you come home?”

“Jeremy told me you asked to see me.” His beautiful lips curve up at the corners. “I hoped that meant you’d forgiven me.”

My throat constricts so hard I can barely breathe, even as sorrow that I put him through that weighs heavy on my chest. “Tate, there was nothing to forgive. I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. I know everything you did was to protect me. That means… so much.” How could I not have seen the truth when he first came back to me? How could I have pushed him away when what he did proves just how much I can trust him to keep my heart safe?

“I hurt you.” Remorse shadows his eyes.

I smooth my palm over his stubbled cheek. “It hurt thinking you didn’t want me. It hurt thinking you’d moved on without a second thought. It hurt so much I couldn’t pretend anymore. I love you, Tate. I love you so much that thinking of spending my life without you tore me up inside. And that was… scary.” I suck in a shaky breath. “I was scared and overwhelmed and terrified that none of what we had was real. But those notes, Tate.” I stare up at him, consumed by the intensity of his gaze. “I had no idea.”

The tension in his jaw eases, and one corner of his mouth turns up. “Neither did I. Not back when we first met, anyway. And not at the start of all of this. Not consciously, anyway. All I knew then was that being around you made me happy. Our relationship may have started out as fake. But this connection,what I feel for you,” his throat works on a swallow, “nothing in my life has ever been this real.”

My heart pounds almost painfully in my chest. “I feel it too,” I whisper. “It just took me a little while to admit that it could be true. I didn’t trust my own judgment.”

He threads his hands through my hair and cradles my skull, his thumbs ghosting over my jaw. “You trust it now?”

“Yes.” I look into his beautiful golden eyes. “And I trust you. Every part of me feels how right this is.”

He drops his forehead to mine and inhales, a faint tremor vibrating through his fingers where they’re cupping me. “You trust me?”

I let my lashes flutter closed and breathe him in. This man kept everyone at bay with his devilish smirk and cocky attitude, when all along, he just needed someone to be his. Someone to see him for exactly who he is and to trust him to be the kind of man who won’t walk away.

“I trust you.” I brush my mouth against his. “With keeping me safe. With my heart. I trust you to be mine.”

This time, his kiss is hard and urgent. I wrap my arms around his chest, arching up against him. Too soon, he pulls away. I whimper in response, my body humming with the need to feel his skin under my fingers. But it’s only a second before his lips brush, soft and sweet, across mine again. Then he takes my hand in one of his, holding up his other one.

Between his fingers, my engagement ring glitters in the light. I can barely speak past the rock that forms in my throat. “Did you go home to get this before you came here?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve been carrying it with me.” A smile plays at the corners of his lips. “It made it easier to believe I’d be putting it back on you soon.”

He brushes his thumb over my bare ring finger as he searches my face. The question shines in his eyes, burning so bright the answer bursts from me before he can even ask it.

“Yes. Tate. Yes. All the yeses.”

One corner of his mouth curls up, but it’s so easy now to see past that arrogant smirk that used to drive me crazy. I see a man who was desperate for someone to love him for who he is. Not for his last name or his family. Not for the money in his bank account or the power he wields because of those things. Someone who loves him just for him.

---