Page 154 of The Bad Wedding Date

“This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you entirely,” I warned. “You’ve got a lot of making up to do.”

“I’m ready to be put to work.”

“And a lot of trust to rebuild.”

“I’ll get my hands dirty every day if that’s what you need me to do.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

“Two months without you changed everything for me, Charlotte. There’s nothing worth fighting for now that isn’t you.”

Fraser leaned down, brushing his nose over mine before he kissed me, and I let my arms drape around his neck. He carried me up the stairs without his step faltering. Every door was kicked open and shut without him coming up for air until he managed to find his way to my bedroom, where he carefully laid me down on top of the crisp white duvet, and he pulled back to look at me.

The moonlight cast the perfect shadows on his strong jaw, making his eyes twinkle down at me. I ran my hands through the longer parts of his hair before I dragged my nails back over the shaved sides and down through his blond beard.

“Is this the part where you make love to me after saving my life?” I whispered.

Fraser trailed his hand between my breasts before he let it settle on my hip, and he came to lie down beside me, forcing my head to turn his way. “This is the part where I let you sleep.”

I scrunched up my nose. “That’s not quite the romantic ending I had in mind.”

“Good for you that you don’t believe in romance.” He pulled my body onto its side and held onto my waist. “Or love.”

“I may have changed my views ever so slightly on that front.”

“You have, have you?”

Pinching his beard between my finger and thumb the way he’d done to my chin so many times before, I pulled him closer, searching his eyes and seeing everything I’d ever needed to see there.

Fraser loved me.

It had been there the day I’d forced him to walk away, and it stared back at me now, as clear to see as the moon in the sky.

“Maybe.” I smirked back at him.

He pulled my hips flush with his. “Take your time. I have enough love here for the both of us.”

When Fraser kissed me, his soft lips meeting mine and making my body melt in his hands, I didn’t need a second longer.

I loved him, too.

I think I always had.

No time apart, no villains dressed as saints, no nasty sister or messed up families could stop us.

Letting my hand fall to his heart, I held it there as he kissed me, and I pressed my fingers into his chest. Fraser pulled away, holding me close as he looked into my eyes.

“Have I really made a believer out of you?” he breathed, all humour gone, as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Don’t make me regret it.” I smiled.

He copied me, pressing his hand to my heart. “I’ll guard it with my life,” and then he sealed that promise with a kiss, and I knew deep down in my soul that this man would keep every promise he ever made to me from that moment on.

I’d never doubt that love existed again. He’d shown me how real it could be. How selfless, intoxicating, and consuming itshouldbe. How everything ever written about it in fiction didn’t scratch the surface of how it felt in real life when the man you loved was Fraser Scott.

52

Fraser

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