He smirked, snaking an arm under me. He pulled me tight, tugging my body down until he fit right between my legs. He settled in, and I could feel him there, pressing against my opening. His eyes grew more serious.

He brushed some of my hair from my forehead, his touch tender. “I own a lot of places, and you could’ve researched the owners of The Octavia. I worried you would find out about me sooner than I intended.”

“About you being in the mafia.”

He nodded, his eyes watching mine. “I didn’t mean for you to find out the way you did. I wanted to tell you. I just…” He hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. His chest moved against mine. “I wanted to make sure it would stick, what we had.”

“You didn’t think so after you flew me out there?”

“I hoped.” His smirk morphed into a rueful half-grin. “I more than hoped.”

An ache stirred in me, and I wound my legs around him, pulling him into me. The love talk was nice, but I was becoming impatient. When his eyes met mine, I murmured, “I’m glad everything happened the way it did.”

“Yeah?”

“I was already falling in love with you then.” I remembered the jittery feeling in my stomach, the confusion, the euphoria. It was there, but I hadn’t wanted to identify it. I hadn’t been ready.

He brushed his thumb along the side of my mouth. “I love you.”

“I know.” I laughed as I pulled him down. I met him halfway, my lips searching for his, and then I said, “Now show me. Again.”

And he did just that.

The End