Page 101 of Chasing Love: The Owens
“I was mad, that’s true, but I could never hate you. And it’s upsetting that I missed out on all that time with Leia. I wish you’d made a different choice, but I can understand why you didn’t. And I can see the role I played in your decision, even if I didn’t know it at the time. I’m sad it took my mom to help me see that you were being protective of yourself and our child. God, I should’ve stayed with you then. I should’ve told Kristie that we’d coparent and that would have been that. I’m sorry. I told you I’d always be there, and I wasn’t.”
I suck in a shaky breath. “I wanted to tell you. I wished so many times I’d gotten to tell you I was pregnant before her and maybe things would have gone differently,” I admit, never making eye contact with him.
He steps closer, putting his finger under my chin and raising it so our eyes meet. “Can you forgive me?”
“Can you forgive me?” I hold his gaze, and some of the guilt I’ve been carrying around slides away at what I see there.
“Yes. All I know is that I don’t want to be apart from you. Do you think you’re ready to start a new chapter?”
“My existing chapter hasn’t closed just yet. I’m technically still married, in the legal sense.”
He puts his hand over my heart. “Is this still attached to someone?”
I nod. His face falls, and he moves to step back, but I grip his wrist, keeping his hand covering my heart.
“It’s attached to you. You’ve always held my heart.”
He leans closer, invading my space. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I love you.”
“And you want to give this a try?”
I nod. “I’m terrified, but I’m more terrified of living my life without you.”
“God, me too. I’d rather have you and lose you than to continue to fight all these feelings. I love you so much, Delaney. You were my first love, and you’ll be my last.”
His eyes are on me as though I hung the damn moon, and I lean in, already forgetting all the reasons this could be a bad decision. As if my body doesn’t remember how badly it hurt when he left. I push it all away because I do love this man, so, so much.
He’s standing so close, I feel the heat coming off his skin. One more step, and I can fold into him as if he’s been mine for years.
“Say something,” I whisper, because the silence between us is too weighted and charged.
“I missed you,” he says, his voice rough. “I’ve missed you since the day I let you go.”
My heart stutters. I never knew he felt even a fraction of the ache I’ve been carrying around.
And just like that, the space between us disappears.
His hands cradle my face, thumbs brushing under my jaw as if he’s memorizing the shape of me all over again. Then his mouth is on mine, slow at first as if he’s testing the waters, afraid to put himself out there in case I pull away.
I don’t.
God, I don’t even consider it.
I press into his body, starved for him. For us. For the way he makes me feel as if I’m the only woman in his world.
He groans against my lips, deepening the kiss, and I let his tongue through the seam of my lips. My fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. His hands slip down, one finding the small of my back, the other splaying across my hip, holding me to him.
Then the gentleness turns into a frenzy.
All the years of what-ifs pour out all at once.
He backs me toward the edge of his desk, and I go willingly, needing something to brace against. His mouth trails down my neck, leaving heat in its wake, and I gasp when he finds the spot just below my ear.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs.
I do. God, I do.
