Page 33 of Meant To Be

With one arm wrapped firmly around my waist, he raised his other hand to smooth my hair back from my cheeks. “I’ve missed you, Piper.”

His forehead fell to mine briefly before he angled his head to the side and dusted his lips over mine. It was a brief touch, but I could feel the electricity of our connection, almost hearing the snap and crackle of it in the air as it shimmied to life around us, and need and emotion tangled together.

I made a little sound in my throat, something like a whimper before I whispered his name.

On the heels of another breath, he fit his mouth over mine. This was a slow, lingering, consuming kiss. By the time we broke apart to breathe, my body felt like it was on fire, spinning with sensations.

I was caught in his gaze as he whispered, “I love you, Piper.”

Roaring emotion crashed over me. I stared up at him. My reply was caught with the word “love” fusing between our lips.

It had been mere days since we’d been together, yet somehow it felt as if we had journeyed miles upon miles in both time and distance. We were in a hurry to get close. Our connection had been forged in the fire of our physical intimacy, and that was what grounded us again.

It was a rush, a messy, stumbling few moments as we tossed our clothes aside. Surprisingly, we made it to the bedroom. When I sank down over him as we mapped each others’ bodies, reconnecting with glancing touches, teasing fingers, and hot, open kisses, I felt as if we were coming home together.

He whispered, “Stay with me, look at me. I want to see you right now.”

I was ensnared in his starlight-blue gaze. He held me close when I flew apart, pleasure ricocheting through me. I heard his rough cry as he followed me a moment later.

After that intense reconnection, our night was rather mundane. We showered and ordered takeout together when Dylan declared he was starving. We curled up on the couch and watched television and ate pizza before we fell asleep. It was exactly what I needed.

EPILOGUE

Dylan

Almost a year later

“I’m who?” I prompted.

“Dilly Dylan,” Maisie Steele announced with a bright smile as her brown curls bounced around her shoulders.

Maisie was the main dispatcher and receptionist and all-around everything at Willow Brook Fire & Rescue in Alaska.

Rowan happened to be standing beside me. I had just learned Maisie had nicknames for everybody in her contacts. Rowan clapped me on the shoulder. “I’ll just start calling you Dilly.”

Beck, Maisie’s husband and also a hotshot firefighter on a different crew here, snorted from my other side. “She’s not very creative. Everybody’s name is like that. There’s Wessy Wes, Rowy Rowan, and so on and so forth.”

“At least you’re not Grammy Graham,” Graham Holden said as he came through the doorway from the back hall.

“I should just start calling everybody by their nickname,” Maisie said with a grin as she glanced among us.

“Beck is the only one with something different,” Cooper offered from Rowan’s other side as he rested his elbows on the counter encircling Maisie’s command center.

“What’s your name in her contacts?” I glanced at Beck.

Maisie bit her bottom lip as she giggled.

“Go ahead and tell him,” Beck said dryly.

“Beck action hero Steele,” she said solemnly.

There was a round of laughter. “So we should just call you action hero?” I prompted.

Beck let out a belabored sigh. “So, Carrie Dodge, you know the lady whose cats get stuck in a tree every few months?”

“Oh yeah, I went out for that once.”

“It’s basically a training exercise at this point. Anyway, one time Carrie called me that, and it stuck,” he explained sheepishly. “And now it’s in Maisie’s phone.”

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