Page 144 of Menace in Vegas

“Why?” I ask softly.

His knuckles skim down my arm like he’s memorizing every inch of my skin.

He doesn’t speak for a long moment.

Then, quietly, he says, “Because every time I close my eyes, I see you leaving.”

My breath stutters. “Connor?—”

“I know it’s stupid,” he mutters, his voice clipped. “You’re here. You’re mine. I know that. But it’s…” His jaw flexes. “It’s like my brain doesn’t care. The fear’s still there. And I fucking hate it.”

I reach up and trace his jaw, grounding him to me. “I’m not leaving.”

His eyes search mine like he wants to believe me, but can’t. Like he’s been holding onto this quiet fear for so long, it’s become part of him.

So I straddle him, slide my palms across his chest, anchoring us both.

“Connor. Look at me.”

His gray irises lock with mine.

“I don’t care how reckless or insane this was. I don’t care if we don’t have it all figured out yet.”

I lean in, pressing my forehead to his. “I. Am. Not. Leaving.”

He remains quiet, his brows furrowed.

A small smile curves my lips. “You’re stuck with me.”

His hands grip my hips, like he needs to feel me there, solid, present, and real. His breath shakes on the exhale. “You say that now.”

I cup his face. “Then I’ll say it again tomorrow. And the day after that. And every single damn day until you finally believe me.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move.

Then something in him breaks. It’s soft and silent, the way a frozen lake gives beneath the weight of a warm spring.

His hand slips to the back of my neck, pulling me down into a kiss filled with everything he can’t say.

It’s not frantic.

Not wild.

It’s slow. Deep. Reverent.

A kiss that feels like coming home.

When we break apart, he looks at me like I’m the only thing tethering him to the earth.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs. Not a plea. Not a demand. Just the truth.

I swallow the ache building in my throat. “I already told you, husband. I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes darken.

Then he flips me onto my back, settling his weight over me, his mouth ghosting over mine.

“Then let me show you exactly what that means.”

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