When she opened the door, every thought, every word, even breath, failed him. She was so beautiful—so utterly beloved—all Holden could do was stare at her until she gasped, and then he opened his arms so that she could fall into them.

“Holden, Holden, Holden,” she laughed and cried, her arms winding around his neck and her sweet mouth so close to his throat he could feel her panted breaths, and his body hardened, wanting her.

He lowered his forehead to the crown of her head, closing his eyes and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of her hair, of her skin—of her, his heart, his love, Griselda. Beside himself with emotion, he stood there holding her, unable to move or speak, frozen on the McClellans’ front steps with his woman back in his arms after two long months apart.

“Why are you here?” she murmured into his neck. “Is everything okay?”

He finally tried his voice and found it husky. “I’m headed to Baltimore, Gris. C-couldn’t stop myself from coming to see you, but I have to be there by one.”

She leaned back, her expression tangled between pride and sorrow. “Today’s the day?”

He nodded, tightening his grip around her. “I ship out to boot camp today.”

She took a deep, ragged breath and scanned his face, her eyes finally resting on his lips. “We have a few hours.”

He bent his head, kissing her and stealing her breath away. She was soft and pliant, melting into his body as his tongue swept into her mouth. Her fingers threaded into his hair, her fingernails grazing his scalp as he groaned into her mouth. She tasted like tea and honey, heat and home, and every part of her fit into every part of him, like a puzzle piece, like the missing half of his soul.

“I missed you. I missed you almost as bad as before,” he said. “All I want—”

“Ahem.”

Holden’s head jerked up to see Sabrina’s surprised face concealing a grin.

“Maybe take it inside, you two? You’re giving our neighbors quite the show.”

He felt Griselda’s chest shudder as she giggled, and Holden pulled her closer. “Hey, Sabrina.”

“Good to see you again, Holden.” She cocked her head to the side. “Heading to boot camp?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sabrina’s attention was captured by something behind Holden, and he turned to see a limo pull up. The driver followed Sabrina into the house to collect their luggage, and Griselda peeked her red face out from her cocoon against his neck.

“The McClellans are headed to the airport.”

“Is that right?” he asked, unable to keep a huge smile from breaking out across his face. “Which means we’ll be alone?”

She nodded, matching his smile, and leaned up to press her lips against his.

“Who’s Zelda kissing?” asked a small person’s voice from below.

Holden drew away from Gris and squatted down to look Prudence in the eye.

“I bet you’re Prudence.”

She smiled up at him, her twin blonde braids shiny in the morning sun. “I bet you’re the Sun King.”

“Oh, you think so?”

The little girl nodded solemnly. “Yes. Your hair’s got some gold like mine, and you’re bigger than my daddy.”

“Hmm. If I’m the Sun King, who does that make Zelda?” he asked, hooking a thumb up at Griselda, who stood beside him on the landing, beaming down at them.

“Lady Starlight, of course.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Holden. “’Cause she’s in love with you.”

Holden whispered. “Are you sure? ’Cause I’m definitely in love with her.”

“Can I tell her?”

“Better not,” said Holden. “Wouldn’t want it to go to her head.”

Prudence looked up at Griselda, then gave Holden a gap-toothed grin. “I think she already knows.”

Holden chuckled, then stood up and put his arm around Gris. “Well, she’s terrific.”

“I know she is,” said Griselda with pride in her voice.

Just for a moment—a second, really—he wondered about Hannah. Would she be blonde-haired and gray-eyed like him? Or dark-haired and blue-eyed like Gemma? And would Gemma put her hair in braids? And would she think her daddy was the Sun King based on her stepmama’s stories?

“You must be Holden,” said a well-dressed man in his thirties holding a suitcase in one hand and offering his other to Holden. “Roy McClellan.”

“Yes, sir. Good to meet you, sir,” said Holden, shaking his hand.

“Bree tells me you’re enlisting?”

“Yes, sir. If all goes as planned, I’ll be headed to Parris Island tonight.”

“Well, oo-rah, Marine. Good luck to you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Roy nodded at Griselda and pushed Prudence toward the car. “Time to go, peanut.”

“Bye, Sun King,” she said, and he winked at her.

Griselda leaned down to give her charge a big hug. “You be good for your daddy and mama?”

“I will, Zelda. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Miss Pru. See you in a week or two?”

“That rhymed,” she said, giggling. “I’ll bring back some shells.”

“Perfect. We’ll make necklaces, and you’ll tell me all about the beach.”

The girl kissed Griselda’s cheek and hurried after her father.

“Well,” said Sabrina, “take care of things while we’re gone?”

“You know I will,” said Griselda, embracing her employer, then stepping back against Holden.

“You look good together. You look . . . right.” Sabrina tilted her head to the side, giving them a saucy look. “Just don’t, ah, burn the place down, huh?”

Griselda’s face turned as red as a tomato, but Holden chuckled as they waved good-bye before heading back into the quiet, empty house together.

***

Lord, she felt nervous.

Wasn’t that a strange development? That she should feel nervous with Holden, of all people, made zero sense. But she did. They hadn’t been together—in bed—since the cabin, and that was almost two months ago.

She felt his eyes on her as he followed her through the entryway, into the kitchen. She walked around the center island, resting her elbows on the counter and looking up at him. Squelching the impulse to whimper in pleasure, she bit her bottom lip, feeling her cheeks flush. He was so handsome, her breath caught. For the first time since being reunited, his face wasn’t black and blue with cuts and bruises, and her tummy fluttered, flipping over just from looking at him.

He pulled up a stool across from her and placed his elbows on the counter, like her.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she breathed, her heart quickening. She felt her nipples harden against her T-shirt, and she squirmed a little as the walls of her sex clenched, then relaxed.

His eyes dropped to her chest for a moment, then darkened as he licked his lips. “I hated being away from you.”

She swallowed. “Me too.”

“I missed the way you say my name,” he said, his eyes intense as they stared back at her. “The way your skin feels under my fingertips.”

She shifted her hips beneath the counter, her breath hitching as she listened to his warm, low voice.

“I missed the way your eyes get dark when you want me.”

Then they must be black as coal right now.

“And the sounds you make in the back of your throat when you’re about to come.”

He slid off his stool and stood up, slowly circling the counter.

“I missed the feeling of your ankles around my waist.”

She’d been breathing deeply again for weeks, but now she couldn’t seem to get enough air.

“And the way you say ‘I love you.’”

He stood next to her at the counter, and she turned to face him.

“I love you,” she whispered.

His mouth came down so hard and fast over hers, their teeth clashed together and it hurt, but she stayed pressed against him. Her hands slid up his T-shirt, fanning out along his jaw as he conquered her mouth, his hot, velvet tongue sliding against hers again and again. His hands slipped to her hips, and suddenly she was on the countertop with Holden between her legs, and those ankles he’d just spoken of were locked around his back.

He was hard against her chest and hard between her legs and hard where his arms encircled her, tightly holding her against him like he’d never let her go. She let her soft mouth be taken. She let her soft body be held, and moments from now she’d let him thrust deep inside her soft, wet sex, which pulsed for him with urgency, aching to be filled by him again.

“Downstairs,” she whimpered into his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Where? How?” he asked, putting his hands under her backside and lifting her off the counter.

“The door behind you.”

He took two steps, fumbling with the doorknob for a moment before it turned, then took the stairs quickly. At the bottom she whispered, “Left,” and he pushed open the French doors that led to her studio apartment, complete with a plush, queen-size bed straight ahead. Stopping at the foot of the bed, he lowered her gently. He covered her with his body and kissed her again.

Dizzy from him stealing her breath, she moaned and arched against him. “I need you.”

His hands skimmed under her T-shirt and bra, pushing both to her shoulders, and as she wiggled out of them, he stood up, quickly pulling off his shirt, unzipping his pants, and pushing them down. Her mouth watered as she stared at his naked body, and she unbuttoned her shorts with trembling fingers and shimmied them down her legs. Holden reached for her panties, pressing the foot of his palm against her sex, and let out a low groan.

“Jesus, Gris. You’re soaked.”

His eyes cut to hers, dark and intense, as her most sensitive skin throbbed under his hand, aching for the touch of his mouth. As though reading her mind, he yanked her panties down her legs and leaned forward, pulling her hips to the edge of the bed.

“What do you need?”

“You,” she whispered, her face hot as she panted the word.

“Like this?”

In one smooth motion, he dropped to his knees and placed her legs over his shoulders. Leaning forward, he gently spread her lips with his fingers and lowered his mouth to her clit. Her fingers twisted in the comforter, her neck bending back as she cried out. His tongue licked her, slow, lapping caresses that made her hips buck off the bed and press closer to his mouth. He sucked gently then increased the speed and pressure of his tongue, and her body started shaking. She opened her eyes to look down at him, only to find him staring up at her, a sight so erotic she lost it. Her muscles convulsed, clenching and releasing, pulsing endlessly as he lifted his mouth and carefully flipped her over so she was facedown on the bed. He pulled her hips to his pelvis and the thick head of his penis pushed slowly into her waiting sheath. The walls of her sex, still throbbing from her orgasm, sucked him forward until she was fully impaled. He leaned forward, his arm under her breasts elevating her off the bed until the angel on his chest met the skin of her back.

“Is this okay?” he groaned close to her ear.

She leaned her neck to the side, and he ran his lips over the damp skin as she sighed, “Yes. You’re so . . . deep. Holden. We’re . . . one.”

“I’ve dreamed of having you like this,” he panted, staying still, letting her get used to him.

“Then have me,” she said, pushing her hips back against his.

“I love you, angel,” he whispered, his lips touching down lightly against her throat as his hips thrust forward. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

She covered his hand with hers, locking their fingers together under her breasts as he continued to pump into her from behind, his pants quicker as deep moans rose up from the back of his throat. The swirling that had just consumed her started building again, more intense with every thrust, with every whispered word of love, until she felt his teeth bite the lobe of her ear, and she screamed his name as her body shattered into a million pieces of pleasure. Holden’s voice growled, “Griselda” close to her ear, then he cried out, his body emptying its tribute into hers.

***

“I missed you like crazy. I love you forever,” murmured Holden. He rested his forehead against the back of her neck, his body limp and loose and entirely sated, though his dick twitched against her ass, suggesting it wouldn’t take much to start round two.

Griselda turned in his arms, her face flushed and glistening with sweat and arousal. His gaze dropped to the pink tips of her breasts that brushed against his angel, and his blood sluiced south.

“Eyes up here,” she said.

She was grinning when he looked up, though he knew her well and he saw the uncertainty behind her eyes.

“Tell me about Gemma . . . and your . . .”

“Daughter,” said Holden, watching the way Gris’s pink lips parted in surprise. “Hannah. We decided to name her Hannah.”

“Hannah,” she said, her eyes welling with tears. “Hannah.”

Holden nodded, his body calming down as he talked about his daughter, and pulled Griselda tenderly into his arms. “I saw her last week on an ultrasound. She was perfect, Gris. Ten fingers. Ten toes. She belched once or twice while we were watching. Little bubbles floating around in there with her. Probably my genes. It was like a miracle to see her.”

“I bet.”

“And I heard her heartbeat. It was really strong. Like a race horse. Pretty amazing. She should be here around Christmas.”

Griselda’s smile faded a touch, then, as though she realized it, got broader but more forced. “And . . . Gemma?”

“She’s doing really well. We had to make peace, you know? For Hannah’s sake.”

“Oh,” said Griselda, searching his face, struggling to hold on to her smile. “Of course.”

Holden’s eyes narrowed. “Gris? What’s going on in your head?”

“Peace.” She took a deep breath, dropping his eyes. “So you’re . . .”

“What?” he asked, tipping her chin up and wincing from the tears brimming in her eyes. “What, angel?”

“Are you back together? Are you . . . going to, you know, try to be a family?”

“W-what?” he said. “What are you talking about? W-we just—”

“I know,” she said quickly. “But I . . .”

His anger was rising fast, so fast it made his heart thrum uncomfortably. “I love you! We just made love. I . . . G-Griselda, are you actually asking me if I got back together with Gemma, then came here to f-fuck you once before boot camp?”

She blinked at him, licking her lips nervously.

He reached for her face, cradled her cheeks, and reminded himself to be gentle despite his fury. “G-Gris, tell me that you know I’m all in. I’m yours. I love you. I b-belong to you. No one else.”

She swallowed, looking down for several seconds before looking up again. “I want to believe that.”

It felt like she’d smacked him. “W-why w-wouldn’t you?”

“You’re having a baby with Gemma,” she said in a rush. “And you always wanted a family and to be a good dad—”

“I will be a good dad to Hannah, but I’ll have a family with you, d-damn it.”

She continued like she hadn’t heard him. “—and so I didn’t know if you’d reconsider being with Gemma, and there are so many tally marks on your arm, and—”

“G-Griselda!” He was so angry he was afraid of hurting her, so he dropped his hands from her cheeks and rolled onto his back, putting a little distance between them. His heart twisted with hurt, and he tried to catch his breath. He didn’t want to yell at her or frighten her, but he was furious . . . and hurt. “You d-don’t trust me.”

She rolled onto her back beside him, both of them staring up at the ceiling in misery.

“I trust you as much as I can trust anyone,” she said softly.

“That ain’t sayin’ much,” he retorted, his eyes burning.

She leaned onto her side to face him. “Holden, please don’t be mad at me. I love you more than anyone. I want this . . . I want you . . . I just . . .”

“Every one of the marks on my arm . . . is you,” he confessed.

“What?”

He turned his neck to look at her, feeling the heaviness of his heart as he revealed himself to her—his true colors, infused with guilt, regret, and shame. “Every single mark, every single one, b-belongs to you.”

“What does that even mean?”

His eyes burned with tears, and he blinked them back, focusing on her face. “It didn’t matter who it was, who I was with. It didn’t matter that you were d-dead. I’d close my eyes in that moment, and I’d see your face. Always. Even with Gemma.”

“Holden,” she said, a sound of disbelief and pain.

“I know it’s sick. You were only thirteen the last time I saw you.” His voice trailed off, as he searched her face, hoping she would understand. “B-but I was already in love with you. The way you’d lie down next to me in that shitty little dirty bed made me feel . . . alive. My whole life, you were what I missed, what I wanted, what I longed for. I . . . I didn’t want anyone else. For all my life—all my life—you have been my beating heart, the woman of my dreams.” He raised his arm, looking at the marks, running a finger over the blue and black lines. “This was me trying to replace you. This was me failing every time.”

Her face was devastated, but something desperate inside him made him press on.

“My body is marked with you. My arms. My chest. My eyes. My head. My heart.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t erase you. I’d have to die to be free of you. D-don’t you see that, Gris? C-can’t you see? There is only you for me.”

“I see,” she sobbed in a whisper, opening her arms and reaching for him.

He rolled into her, dropping his forehead to her shoulder as fresh pain assaulted him—the pain of losing her on the Shenandoah, of learning of her death, of being forced to live with Caleb, who’d killed her. The open wound that had been Griselda for so long was still healing inside, and he suddenly remembered, in fresh, visceral pain, how it had felt to believe her dead.

Go to the ends of the earth for you . . . to make you feel my love.

“I c-can’t lose you again,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, his voice husky and eyes burning with unshed tears.

“You won’t,” she promised, her hands stroking his hair. “Never.”

“You mad about the other w-women? Or freaked-out that I’d think of you while I was with—?”

“No,” she said gently. “No. I understand now.” She stroked his hair, cradling him against the soft warmth of her body. “I’m not mad. I’m just sad you couldn’t find a second of happiness with anyone else. You must have been so lonely, Holden. That hurts my heart more than anything.”

“I was lonely. I was damn near dead on the inside, Gris. But I don’t want to be dead anymore. I want to be strong. I want to offer you something good.” He clenched his eyes shut. “But I c-can’t lose you. Not now. Not when I’ve held you and loved you and known what it is to feel happiness again in my shithole of a life. I’ll do whatever I have to do to prove that you can trust me, angel.”

“You won’t lose me, Holden,” she promised again, her voice resolute, close to his ear. “It’s just that I lose everyone I love too: my mother, my grandmother, you. At the cabin, just as I started to believe that we could be together, you found out about Hannah, and I lost you again. So it’s hard for me to trust. I want to, but it’s so hard for me not to have doubts. I’ve been protecting myself for so long . . .”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the skin of her shoulder. “I know, angel. But you can’t live like that forever, and you’ve got to start somewhere. Why not start with me?”

***

Her eyes widened as she stared back at him because his words were an echo of Maya’s when Griselda was in the hospital:

You are strong and you are smart, Zelda, but you gotta start letting people in. You gotta trust that they’re not all gonna let you down. I’m not gonna let you down. Sabrina’s not gonna let you down.

And somehow she had to find the strength to believe that Holden—whom she loved more than anyone else in her life, whom she kept losing yet somehow finding—wasn’t going to let her down either.