Bex stepped forward on shaky legs, rushing through the crowd until she reached Gabe’s table. He was already on his feet, his dark eyes pulling her forward, and she launched herself against his beautiful, strong chest. Gabe’s heart pounded against her cheek as he banded his arms around her back.

“Oh god, Bex, what are you doing to me?” His voice was thick and lanced with pain. “You set up this whole thing?”

“I made you a game,” she whispered.

“Our game,” he said. “Our story.”

She nodded, so happy he understood. “I’ve been so, so stupid. I should never have left you.”

He snorted out a laugh, and she gave him a shaky laugh back. “Oh, honey. I missed you so much.” He brought a hand to her chin and searched her eyes. “Did you get your results back?”

Bex nodded. “I’m going to be okay. No cancer.”

He pulled her closer. “Thank god.”

She didn’t want to push her luck, but she needed to know. “Thank god you don’t have to take care of me?”

Gabe’s face tightened. “No, Bex. Thank god you’re okay. Thank god the woman I love isn’t hurt or suffering or in pain.”

Her chin quivered. “But I am.”

“Why, gorgeous?”

“Because I hurt you.” He blinked, and she continued. “Because I’m not with you now and I should be. I want to fix that.”

“Me too.”

Bex’s chin wobbled as she whispered her biggest fear. “Just because I’m okay now, doesn’t mean I won’t get sick in the future.”

“I’m willing to take that risk with you, Bex. It’s the same risk you took for me.” Gabe lowered his forehead against hers, and the smell of his cologne almost made her swoon.

“If you’re okay playing a game with bad odds, then who am I to stop you?”

“No, not bad odds, Bex. You’re the winning hand.” Gabe traced his thumb along the edge of her jaw and lifted her mouth to his lips. He kissed her, there in The Walton, and her whole life crumbled together and was made again stronger. Together they formed something new.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He smiled at her. “I know.”

“Do you still love me?”

“I’m sorry, was that kiss not clear enough?”

Bex bit her lip. “We might need to try again, just to be sure.”

This time Gabe’s kiss was a flag unfurling, a fire iron stoking the coals of her desire. She clutched at him as he parted her lips, sighed into him as he pulled her against an erection so hard she wanted to grind herself against it. Somewhere in the background, the bar patrons cheered, somewhere the microphone squealed and Aderyn handed out a gift card for a dozen donuts. But here in her arms, Gabe brought her back to life.

Gabe pulled back and smiled all the way into her heart. “Rebecca Kingsley, I’ve loved you since the moment you smiled into my camera and asked me how I felt about innovation.”

She grinned at him. “That was the thing that did it for you? My tech talk?”

His eyes heated. “I mean, you made a number of persuasive arguments that night.” He growled low, into her ear. “About three or four, if I remember correctly.”

Her face heated. “Would you like me to make some additional persuasive arguments for you tonight?”

He nipped her earlobe. “I demand it.”

A wave of relief washed over her, and she slipped her palms under the edge of his T-shirt, so damn happy to be able to feel his skin, hot and hard under hers.

“Take me home, Gabriel Marx,” she whispered into the crook of his neck.

“Your place or mine?”

“Wherever you want, as long as I’m with you.”

“How was that argument?” Bex asked, falling across Gabe’s chest, her heart pounding all the way to her fingertips and toes. They lay together, Gabe still inside her after their last orgasms, their bodies and their hearts intertwined on the bed. Moonlight spilled in through the windows of his bedroom and edged everything in silver.

“Very persuasive,” Gabe said, low and sleepy. “You can make arguments with me anytime.” His eyes slit in contentment, and he brushed his hands down her back to cup her butt. He squeezed his palms gently, a hand on each cheek. “You hungry?”

She lifted her head to kiss him. Now that she had him again, she couldn’t get enough. Her hips churned against his. “Only for you.”

He smiled. “While I appreciate that, you need some food to replenish your energy. I still have big plans for you tonight.”

She groaned, running her hands through his dark hair and pulling him back for another deep kiss. “How about later?”

“We’ve got all the time in the world, Bex.”

She nodded at him. “Please say that again.”

He pulled her hips against his, and she loved how electric it felt when they fit together. “We’ve got all the time in the world.” He kissed the spot under her ear that always made her thighs tremble. “I’m going to love you every day of my life, no matter if you’re healthy or sick. No matter if you’re feeling brave or scared. We’re in this together.”

“Okay,” Bex said. “Well in that case.”

Gabe pulled out of her and sprinkled kisses across her collarbones before he slid out of bed. Then he padded toward the bathroom, but she lay in bed for a minute and held a hand on her beating heart. She loved this man so damn much. And he was going to let her back in. She wanted to deserve his love. That started today, by doing things right.

Bex slipped from the sheets and walked across Gabe’s room toward the dresser. She pulled it open, terrified of what she would find, and then her heart soared. All her clothes were still here for her. All the things Gabe had bought. He’d kept them, trusting that she’d come back.

She smiled and closed the drawer, reaching for one of Gabe’s T-shirts instead. She could wear her own clothes anytime, but wearing something of his felt necessary. She was going to soak up every minute of him she could get, and that started by smelling like him—that perfect mix of soap and spice and earthy cologne.

Bex found Gabe in the kitchen, standing over the stove in only a pair of boxer briefs. He hummed Blackbird by The Beatles as he flipped pancakes in a cast-iron skillet, the muscles in his arms flexing as he shuffled the food in the pan.

“That smells delicious.”

She wrapped her arms around his chest and leaned her cheek against his back. Gabe squeezed her arms with his free hand, and she joined in singing, her voice clear and calm, in perfect harmony with his. For a flashing second she was singing to her dad, singing away all the ache and fear of his illness, because right here, in this moment, with her lungs full and her heart open, it was like she could squeeze all the pain out of the room.

At the chorus, Gabe stopped singing, and his knuckles went white from clutching the spatula.

She broke off her song. “What’s wrong?”

Gabe set down the spatula and turned in her arms, those whiskey eyes so deep and drowning. “I’ve heard your voice before.”

Wait, what?

She blinked at him in confusion. “Of course you have.”

“No, I mean, singing that song.”

Goosebumps swept over her arms. “Blackbird?” she whispered. He nodded, and she licked her lips. “I used to sing that to my dad in the hospital.”

Gabe’s face was pale. “You never told me which hospital, Bex.”

“City of Hope. Why?”

Gabe’s face was unreadable, so full of emotion she couldn’t be sure if he was going to cry or kiss her. “Because that’s where I had my surgery, honey. And I lay in my bed, recovering, while some girl with the voice of an angel sang that song over and over again. And that’s what got me through.”

“Blackbird,” Bex repeated, and he nodded at her.

“It was you, Bex.” Gabe pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. His voice cracked with validation. “I told you I had seen you before. That night we met.”

She smiled against his chest. “I thought for sure it was a line.”

“Guess we know who won that round, then.”

She giggled. “I’d say we both did.”

Gabe nodded. “We’ll call it a draw. You saved my life, you know, and no matter what comes next, I’m going to be here to save yours.”

Her heart choked in her throat. “I love you, Gabriel Marx.”

“I love you, Rebecca Kingsley.”

“Good,” she said, then tilted back to smile at him. “Because I’m starving.”

He kissed the end of her nose. “I like a girl with an appetite.”

She smiled back at him, her heart wide and open and utterly his. “That’s what I hear.”