Page 163 of Tangled Kisses
“You’re not leaving.” A muscle jumps in his jaw. “You’re coming in.”
A tiny, disbelieving laugh slips past my sorrow. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he says, firm and certain, like it’s the only thing in the world that makes sense. “Come on.”
We step inside, Griffin setting the basket down on the counter with a dull thud.
“When was the last time you ate?” I ask, glancing around the kitchen.
He frowns, like he has to dig through the memories. “Yesterday, maybe? I had coffee this morning, if that counts.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think it does.”
Pulling the basket open, I start unloading—cheese, meat, crackers. Something simple. Something to ground us. I open the wine and pour two glasses, sliding one toward him.
He takes a slow sip, his eyes cast downward, before setting it aside. Then he takes mine too, placing both glasses on the counter. Griffin closes the small distance between us and slides his hands along my jaw, his thumbs drifting like satin over my cheeks. “You’re here.”
“For as long as you want me. And beyond, because I’m never leaving you again.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll give you everything.”
And then he kisses me.
Soft at first. Tender. His lips brush mine with a hesitation that nearly undoes me, coaxing instead of demanding, like he’s afraid I’ll splinter beneath the weight of him.
The faint taste of wine lingers on his mouth—dark and rich, mingling with the clean, almost wild scent of him. Pine and soap. Man and earth. It seeps into me with every inhale until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
His beard grazes my skin, rough against the delicate cut near my cheekbone, and the contrast makes me shiver. It lights a spark low in my belly, and I can’t stop the broken sound that slips out of me. A whimper—need tangled with relief.
Griffin answers with a low, guttural sound, vibrating straight into my core. His hands bracket my ribs, firm but careful, as though even his touch could be too much. Still, I lean in harder, chasing the heat of his kiss like oxygen.
Tears burn, blur everything, but his lips keep moving against mine, slow and sure, pulling me deeper, gentler, until I’m drowning in him. The wet slide of his tongue grazes mine, tentative at first, then surer when I respond, and the taste of him fills me, overwhelms me.
My fingers clutch his shirt, desperate to anchor myself, but the fabric gives beneath my grip. He’s the only solid thing left in my spinning world. Every kiss, every breath, is a promise.
This is Griffin.
This iseverything.
When he finally eases back, his breath ragged, the soft huff of it fans over my lips. His heart pounds, frantic and wild, keeping pace with mine.
“You still want me?” My voice breaks.
His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing tenderly over the bruise. “Yeah, I still want you.”
“Do you love me?” I whisper again.
“Yeah.”
The ache in my chest deepens. The words tumble out before I can stop them, echoing the question he once asked me. “You love me, or you’reinlove with me?”
“I’m putting a baby in you tonight kind of love.” His voice is raw, reverent and wild all at once, a vow and a demand tangled together. His gaze pins mine, searching. “Are you okay with that?”
My breathing falters as the memory rushes back—Griffin’s promise to me before Vander showed up. How we said there’d be nothing between us anymore. My mouth curves in a smile. I loopmy arms around his neck. “So we’re going for the baby before the wedding?”
His low laugh rumbles through me, steadying me. “I think that works.”
