Chapter Forty-Eight

Beau

This is the part where we’re supposed to kiss and make up, but Annabel is staring out into the theater behind us. Onstage the actors and actresses from The Lovers are taking their bows. There are probably forty people in the theater behind us, whooping and cheering and giving a standing ovation.

“Who are these people?” Annabel laughs over the noise.

“Extras,” I tell her. “Too much?”

“Extras?”

“For the effect. It was an excellent performance.”

She laughs again, loud and long, and the corners of her eyes are damp in the light from the stage. The house lights stay down because this is our show, too, and I’ve been waiting for this since she got out of the car.

“Did you mean it?” she asks, squeezing my hands.

“Are you kidding?” I pull her up out of her seat and wrap one arm around her. “These people are all here because I begged them to help show the love of my life how much she means to me.”

Annabel lets out a pleased giggle, but then her smile fades. “Wait.”

“You heard me,” I say, the moment weighing heavily in the air between us. Is she going to back out? Is she going to run?

The extras don’t nearly make up a full house, but the noise is thunderous.

Annabel’s eyes are dark and deep. “You’re the love of my life, too,” she says. It sounds soft, but she’s nearly shouting to be heard.

My heart cracks open, but this time it’s with pure joy, pure relief. I take her in my arms then, and she throws herself into my embrace, locking herself tight around my neck. Her lips are so sweet on mine that I’m sure I’ll never taste anything to rival it. The dirtiest part of my mind whispers that I might taste something as sweet, but it’ll also be Annabel.

Kissing her doesn’t make me want her any less. It makes me want her more.

She growls into my mouth, her cheeks damp with tears, and the sound of everyone else in the theater disappears. It goes completely silent. There is nothing here but here, nothing but me and our clothes between us. God, it’s sweet. God, it’s sinful. God, I want it every day for the rest of my life and then some.

The sound crashes back in as Annabel pulls away, laughing.

“They’re calling for us,” she says.

I don’t know what she means, and then I hear it. The extras are chanting, “Encore, encore, encore,” and the actors onstage are joining in.

Annabel grabs my hand. “Come on!”

She pulls me behind her to the steps on the side of the stage and runs up, her body lithe and perfect under the black dress she’s wearing. We leap right into the stage lights. It’s hot up here and blinding, but Annabel stands at center stage like she was born to be here. Every minute of her life has led to this. That’s how it seems when she’s up here, poised, head held high, hand in mine. She looks at me, beaming, and we take a bow together. I feel utterly ridiculous. I feel utterly alive.

More cheers, more applause, but now the cast surrounds us. Bethany, in her elegant blue gown, comes and wraps Annabel in a hug and whispers something in her ear. A bunch of the men are clapping me on the back. I’ve never met any of them, but you wouldn’t know it. Annabel is in her element. What have we been doing all this time, being so cautious? She belongs on a stage. She belongs in the spotlight.

She belongs to me.

Finally she disentangles from Bethany, only to be swept up in another hug by Marilee, who has tears running down her face. “I’m so sorry,” she’s saying over Annabel’s shoulder. “Really, Annabel. You’re the sweetest.”

Annabel pulls back, another laugh escaping her. “Bethany made me seem sweeter.”

“I didn’t,” Bethany says, putting a hand on Annabel’s shoulder. She cocks her head in my direction. “He did.”

Annabel turns to me, and the rest of them disappear. I have eyes only for her. And her eyes? Her eyes are alive, aflame. For me.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says. There’s no shame. Why would there be? This is our night. Everyone onstage around us bursts into cheers. It’s like a wedding night send-off, only the bride is wearing black and isn’t the star of the show.

She’ll be the star of that show. I can guarantee it. She’ll be the star of any room we’re in for the rest of our lives. I’ll make it so.

Annabel doesn’t waste any time folding herself back under my arm. We take the shortest path off the stage and leave down the center aisle.

We’re past the lobby ushers in a flash, Annabel leading the way. She never hesitates. The doors are nothing to her. She pushes them open, and we’re tumbling out onto the steps, onto the sidewalk, and she pulls my hand.

“Where—”

“Here.”

There’s an alcove off to the side of the door, and Annabel grabs my lapels and pushes me back into it, kissing me hard, fierce, like there’s no tomorrow, like there’s never been a tomorrow until the day we met.

I stop her when she goes for my belt. “You’ll get us arrested.”

“Sounds like an adventure.”

“My car is fifteen feet away.”

“How fast can he drive?”

“I’ll do you one better,” I say, raising her hand to my lips and kissing her knuckles. “I’ll put up the privacy partition. No waiting until we get home.”

Annabel’s eyes sparkle in the glow of the streetlight. “Home?”

“My penthouse. Or we can go to your suite at the Pearl. I’ll give you the whole thing, if you want it. Anything, Annabel. Anything.”

She takes in a deep breath, and I lose myself in the color of her eyes.

“You,” she says simply. “That’s all I want.”

Then, with a laugh, she runs for the car, dragging me with her all the way.