Page 44 of Chasing Love: The Owens
“I never stopped loving you,” I confessed.
His eyes closed for a beat. When they opened, that brokenness wasn’t there anymore. As if he had wondered but would’ve never asked me.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face, and my body leaned into the touch as if it had been waiting all this time for a physical connection with him. His hand lingered at my cheek, his thumb warm as it rubbed back and forth.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you every day,” he said.
My breath hitched. “Then why haven’t you?”
“Because I didn’t know if you’d want me to. I know I’m coming to you with some baggage.”
“I want you too,” I said—and my admission broke something loose inside both of us.
He took the last step, our bodies flush against each other, and pressed his lips to mine.
The kiss was years of desperation unleashed.
His hands went to my waist, pulling me closer as though he didn’t trust me to stay in the room. My hands slid into his hair, conveying that I wasn’t going anywhere.
All the talking was done.
My back hit the wall of the conference room, and he deepened the kiss, our bodies moving like they remembered everything we thought we’d forgotten.
When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine.
“I never got over you,” he whispered.
“I never wanted you to.”
The room could’ve burned down around us, and I wouldn’t have moved an inch.
For the first time in years, I was right where I was supposed to be.
* * *
Delaney
Chapter Nineteen
Bennett
I walk downstairs, the house quiet since Wren is still half asleep after I woke her up. After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I’m only one sip in when I notice the mess from last night, so I set down my coffee and wash the ice cream bowls from Wren and Nash’s sundae making.
I dump out the half-eaten bowl of popcorn, then wipe the spilled coffee from Nash filling his Thermos this morning.
Once the kitchen is clean, I walk back upstairs to make sure Wren is getting ready. She’s just sitting up in bed, her hair in a messy braid. Who would’ve done that? The best Jensen or Nash would’ve accomplished is a lopsided ponytail.
“Do you want to pick your outfit, or me?” I used to do it, but recently there have been some disagreements on what she should wear to school. And after seeing Leia from the back the other day, I’m starting to see why Wren keeps telling me her clothes are too old and boring.
“You can do it.” She rubs her eyes.
“Have a fun time with Nash last night?” This is the usual repercussion of having him watch her. It’s like a party, and I’m the mean police officer breaking it up when I come home.
But by the time I returned from Lincoln yesterday, she was already in bed.
“We went and rode Biscuits. He said my balance is getting better.”
I pick out shorts and a T-shirt for her and place them on the edge of her bed. “That’s good.”
