Page 110 of The Blonde Identity

“This.” The kiss was quick and soft and sweet. It wasn’t the kiss that came at the end. It was the kiss that came at the beginning, and that’s what made her give up any pretense of not crying. Of not breaking. The jerkface.

And then his breath was on her wet cheeks and he was pulling her against his chest. She hated that, too—that she was going to get his shirt all wet. At least the sky was dark. It looked like rain. Maybe he wouldn’t know they were tears.

His hands cradled her face, gentle and warm and strong. “I can’t ask you to stay, sweetheart.”

She pushed free and glared up at him. “Oh, you’ve been very clear—”

“But I can’t let you get on that plane—”

“Then why did you order it?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or scream, so she did a little of all three.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

“Well, I’m in love with you, too!” They were doing that thing again where the closer they got, the louder they shouted, tension reverberating between them like a wave until, finally, it crested, crashing over Zoe. Sweeping her out to sea. “But that doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s the only thing that matters.” He tried to dry her eyes with his sleeve because she was crying harder now. Stupid traitorous eyes.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” she said.

“We’ve been over this. You’re my everything.”

And that was the part that broke her. Maybe it was stress or exhaustion or the sheer weight of the past few days finally leaving her body, but she let him pull her closer.

“So if the offer still stands, I’d like to get on the planewithyou. And go home. With you. And be with you. For however long you’ll have me.”

The words were sinking in—the reality and the promise and the realization—“I don’t know where my home is.”

“Then we’ll go to mine,” he told her.

“Where’s that?”

“Wherever you are.”

She leaned her forehead against the hard wall of his chest and felt his arms wrap around her—pull her tight. She didn’t want to see his face when she admitted, “I know the bad guys are gone, but I’m still scared, Sawyer. Because I still don’t know who I am.”

Forget the tears, she was going to get his shirt all snotty. If he still wanted her after this...

“I do. I know you. You’re the woman who is strong and tough and funny and sexy as hell. You’re mine, lady.” He smoothed her hair. “Remember that morning at the cabin? When you said I made you sleepy? Well, you didn’t. You made me forget. About all the badthings that have happened and the even worse things that I’ve done. You made me forget. So please. Please let me spend the rest of my life helping you remember.”

He touched his forehead to hers and she felt herself get wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and safety and hope. The sky opened up overhead but she didn’t even feel the rain.

“What about Kozlov? And all the Little Baby Kozlovs waiting to grow up and take his place? What about your job and...”

“First, never say the words ‘little baby Kozlovs’ ever again. Second, I’m out, lady. I talked with my dad, and... It’s time someone in our family got a happy ending. Now, if you don’t love me anymore... Or if you love me but you still don’t trust me, okay. I’m just asking for a chance. Just the chance to spend the rest of my life earning you.”

And, oh, how they broke her, the perfection of those words and that moment and that man. And they scared her. Because—

“What if I’m not enough? What if you walk away from your very important life doing your very important job and you wake up one day and thinkI gave all that up... for her?”

“I’ve risked more for less.”

“What if it turns out I’m just a woman with a night guard who hasn’t washed her hair in a week and whose entire friend group is fictional?”

“Then that’s exactly who I want.”

She remembered the man on the mountain, reaching for her, anchoring her. Keeping her safe. She remembered holding on and never, ever wanting to let go.

“I’m never going to be Alex.”

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