Page 580 of The Winslow Brothers

“Maria.” I try to get her attention, try to get her to turn around and look at me. “Can you just hear what I have to say about us? About our future?”

“Remy, I really just want to go,” Maria whispers back, and when she turns around to look at me, a fresh sheen of tears makes her eyes shine beneath the dining room lights. “I just want to get Izzy and go.”

It breaks my heart.

“And you want me to stay here?”

She averts her eyes and nods.

“Well, that plan doesn’t work for me, Ria,” I tell her, anger and frustration and adrenaline and even fear starting to pump through my veins. Irefuseto let her walk away from me this time. “It’s actually a really horrible plan.”

When she doesn’t respond, still won’t look at me, I keep going.

“When we broke up all those years ago, I remember thinking to myself, I hope I meet someone like Maria again. And I might’ve been a fucking fool back then, but I’m not a fool now. I don’t want someone like you, Maria. I wantyou. Justyou.”

She looks up to meet my eyes, and I step toward her.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you, Maria. But somehow, ever since we got stuck in an elevator…twice…I’ve fallen deeper in love with you each day that we’ve spent together. When I see our future, I see you and me and Izzy. I see more sleepless nights with a fussy baby and busy days with a wild toddler and silly arguments over what movie we’re going to watch when Lexi stays the night. For the past fifteen years of my life, I’ve been closed off. I haven’t wanted a relationship with anyone. But that’s not who I am when I’m with you. I want commitment with you. I need it. This has never been about playing fucking house, Maria. This has been about a man falling in love with a woman and wanting to spend his life with her. This is about me finding my family in you and Izzy.”

I’m nearly angry that she couldn’t see any of this, but at the same time, I can understand why she all of a sudden got cold feet and found herself questioning shit.

“Do you want to know what I really think this is?” I ask and pull the ring box I’ve been carrying around with me since I bought it in a jewelry shop the evening before we left the Bahamas. Three hours after I told Cleo that being in love with Maria felt like coming home.

I set it on the table and look at her. “That’s what I think this is.Forever.Me and you, getting married and spending the rest of our lives together. You are the only woman who makes me want to be a better man. Who makes me want to settle down and get married. Who makes me need all of the things I never thought I needed. You’re it for me, Maria.”

Tears stream down her cheeks, and she stares at the box on the table.

“I want that too,” she says, her tone just barely a whisper and her voice shaking with emotion. “I want that too, Rem. All of it. With you.”

In an instant, I close the distance between us and pull her into my arms and kiss her like my life depends on it. Because it does. She is my fucking life.

Her tears are salty against my tongue, but her mouth is just as hungry, just as desperate as mine. And the kiss feels like the only thing I’ll ever need for the rest of my life. I could live off this kiss. No water. No food. No sleep. Just Maria and her perfect lips against mine.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers through a stuttered breath and leans back to meet my eyes. “I just…I don’t know…I got scared. The idea of you not wanting what I want felt like a knife to my chest. I didn’t know if I’d survive it, and I just—”

I cut her off with another kiss.

“I love you, Maria,” I say against her lips and feel each word more than I have ever felt them for anyone. “Never for one second doubt that.”

“I love you too.”

“Thank fuck for that,” I mutter, and she giggles against my mouth. “By the way, you’re not getting that ring right now.”

She leans back to search my eyes.

“I’m going to propose to you, but not here. Not like this.”

“You’ve got big plans, Rem?”

I wink. “Something like that.”

She kisses me hard, and I don’t hesitate to pull her tighter to my chest, to the point that her legs are wrapped around my waist and my fingers are sliding through her hair.

Maria. My Maria.She ismyreal-life Maria in that Brooks & Dunn song. My gypsy lady, my miracle worker, the one woman who can set my soul free and on fire at the same time.

Eventually though, it’s apparent that we may be the only ones in the room, but we’re not the only ones in this house.

“Can…uh…we come in now and finish dinner?” someone asks from outside the door, and we both pause to look at each other.

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