Page 96 of To Catch a Firefly

“So are you going to kiss me now or what?” he asks, lips twitching up at the corner. “I was expecting a welcome home. And instead, I got snow-filled boots.”

He barely finishes the last word before my lips crash into his. He whimpers against me, his grip on my shirt tightening. It’s relief and happiness and the bitter sting of fear. But most of all, it’s coming home. His lips taste like home. And if this is what he wants, what he truly wants and not what he feels is necessary, then I’ll make sure he’s happy here. I’ll give him a home so warm and inviting he won’t ever regret staying by my side. He’ll know he’s loved, without fail, without limits, without end.

“Love you,” I whisper against his lips.

He lets out a small, happy laugh, looping his arms around my neck. “Again.”

“I love you,” I tell him, pulling him up. His legs circle my waist, and I hold him to me. I hold him as tight as I dare.

“I love you, too, Ellis,” he whispers against my neck. “I’m so ridiculously in love with you, you’re going to get sick of hearing me say it.”

I shake my head.Never.

“We’ll see,” he says, but it doesn’t sound like a warning. It sounds like a promise.

Turning, I flick off the lights. The silo goes dark, but Lucky’s hair shines pale gold in the glow of the moon as I walk us toward the house.

“We have to talk about where I’m staying,” Lucky says. “I can move back into my old room—”

I shake my head. “With me,” I say before blowing out a breath. “Stay with me.”

Lucky leans back in my arms, smile wide. He understood. “Yeah, El. Always.”

I nod, and within a minute, we reach the house. My mom is in the kitchen when we get inside, and I reluctantly let Lucky down. We step out of our wet boots, and Mom waves us over, one hand lifting off her walking aid.

“Peppermint tea,” she says, motioning toward the counter, where two steaming mugs sit.

“Thank you, Mrs. Cole,” Lucky says, accepting a mug.

“You boys must be freezing,” my mom says.

Lucky huffs a laugh. “A bit.”

“Well, your dad dropped off one of your bags so you’d have some dry clothes to change into. Will you be staying here?”

Lucky and I exchange a look, and I nod, encouraging him.

“If it’s okay with you, Mrs. Cole,” Lucky answers.

My mom waves him off before he can get another word out. “Of course it is. You’re always welcome here, Lucky. I’m glad you’re home.”

Lucky smiles at me over the rim of his mug.

“I’ll be reading in bed if either of you need me,” Mom says, giving us privacy as she leaves the kitchen.

“Night,” I call after her.

Lucky sips his tea. “Should we get changed?”

I nod, and the two of us head to my room. Lucky’s suitcase is right inside the door, and he pulls out clean clothes as I head to my dresser. I can feel his eyes on me as I change, and when I look back at him, he’s paused, a shirt dangling in his hands and sleep pants slung low on his hips.

He shakes his head a little. “Ellis, do you really not know what you look like?”

I don’t answer, and he steps closer, shirt still hanging at his side.

“You’re broad, like a mountain. Muscular. Strong. Your presence is big, but you’re so gentle and measured. There was never a time I didn’t feel safe with you.”

I swallow as he comes to a stop in front of me, his fingers tracing the line of my shoulder and arm. When he gets to my hand, his touch feathers away.

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