Page 70 of Cyclone

Slow. Deep. Anchoring.

She kissed me back like she was drowning—and I was air.

I walked her backward toward the bedroom, never breaking contact. Her hands fisted the back of my shirt, and mine roamed over her back and sides, memorizing every inch.

When we hit the edge of the bed, I pulled back just enough to look at her.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “With you? Always.”

I slid my hands beneath her shirt, lifting it slowly, reverently. Like a man unwrapping something sacred.

Because shewas.

When I laid her back against the sheets, she didn’t look afraid.

She looked like a woman claiming something that had once been stolen.

And I’d spend the rest of my life making sure she never lost it again.

37

Cyclone

The first thing I felt was her.

Soft, warm, and tangled up in me like we’d been made to sleep this way forever.

Jude lay with her back against my chest, her legs woven between mine, one hand resting over the pulse in my wrist like she needed to make sure I hadn’t disappeared.

I stayed still, not wanting to break the moment.

Outside, the sky was pale gray. Gentle, steady rain tapped against the window. The storm had come and gone sometime during the night, but the air still felt heavy with something unfinished.

I didn’t care.

Not yet.

Not while I had her here.

Her breathing was even, but I felt the shift in her body when she woke. There was just the tiniest hitch of breath, a slow blink, and her fingers tightened slightly over mine.

She didn’t move right away.

Neither did I.

Then, after a few long seconds, she whispered, “You’re still here.”

“Yeah,” I said softly against her shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

A pause.

Then, a breath of a laugh. “I half-expected to wake up and find it was all a dream that I imagined you. That I imaginedpeace.”

My chest ached.

I slid my hand up, brushing my thumb gently over the inside of her arm. “It’s real, Jude. I’m real. This is real. No one will ever take this away. I love you, and I will always love you.”

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