Page 92 of The Woman at the Funeral

Wow.

“When’s my birthday?”

“December twenty-eighth.”

“What was my grandma’s name?”

“Agatha. And you would love to use it for a baby. Either for a first or middle name.”

“What am I afraid of?”

“On a surface level: geese. You got chased once and bit on the arm.”

“And deeper than surface?” I asked, pulling back enough to look up at him.

“You’re afraid that people will see your vulnerabilities and use them against you. You’re afraid that if you don’t tightly control everything, it will all fall apart. You’re afraid that you’ll never be part of a family or have a family. And, I think, beneath it all, it boils down to being terrified that you aren’t lovable.”

His arms gave me a squeeze.

“And I’m here to tell you that the right man will help you manage everything and would never dream of using your softness against you. You can have any kind of family you decide you want. And last but certainly not least, you are absolutely, one hundred percent lovable.”

“B—”

“And I know that,” he cut me off before I could voice any kind of silly objection, “because I’ve been in love with you almost since the moment I met you.”

My heart flipped in my chest, a strange, fluttering sensation that had me sucking in a shocked breath.

“And I think I fell a little harder each time I learned something new about you over the years. I funneled them away, kept them close, knowing I couldn’t have you.”

“Nico…” I said, blinking back the sting of tears.

“Then, one day, it wasn’t forbidden anymore. But the timing felt wrong. And then I wasn’t sure how you’d feel when you learned the truth of who I am.”

“Who you are is the kindest, most generous person I’ve ever met.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t care what you do.”

I didn’t.

Not after what we’d shared over the past several weeks. And especially the last few days.

“This might not be the only time, in a life with me, where there will be danger like this. Or worse,” he warned. “And, of course, a connection with me might mean a close eye from law enforcement. New things you’d need to learn about and systems to live by.”

“Well, in that case,” I said, feeling him tense, “I guess it’s a good thing that I am a fast learner.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, voice filled with hope.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been sure about anything in my life before.”

His hands slid up to frame my face, watching me with the warmest, gooiest eyes for a moment. Then his lips were on mine, soft and sweet at first. Then harder, deeper, full of all the feelings building in us.

Nico’s arms moved down my neck, over my shoulders, followed the slope of my back, then sank into my ass. He lifted me up, his lips on mine the whole time, then carried me back to the bedroom.

He set me down on my feet, his hands drifting over mine as his tongue tangled with mine, dragging a little whimper out of me.

His fingers snagged the hem of my shirt and started to draw it slowly up.

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