Harper stood in place with Blue’s arms wrapped tightly around her.  This had been the last thing she’d expected from him, and it almost felt like she must have been dreaming.  She’d waited so long to feel him like this and had thought for sure any chance for them had long passed.  The tears she sobbed had come so unexpectedly as if ten years’ worth of pent-up grief had finally broken free.

After she managed to get herself back under some semblance of control, she pulled back from him enough to look at him again.  She wasn’t sure what to say, or if she should say anything at all for fear that it might set him off again and send him running for the hills.

He brushed her hair back, their eyes locked, and he spoke first.

“Will you stay?” he asked her.

She turned to look back at her rental car and the luggage she’d just been loading into the trunk.  She turned back to him and took in a breath to respond, but before she could get a word out, his finger went up to cover her mouth.

“Wait!” he insisted.  “Before you answer …”

Confused, she stood waiting to hear what he wanted to say, but instead of words, he stooped down to pick her up into his arms.  She squealed in surprise and latched onto him so that she wouldn’t fall.

“Blue, what are you doing?” she asked frantically.

“I’ve got you, Sunshine.  I won’t let you fall anymore,” he promised and carried her up the steps, opening the door with a quick movement of the hand he held beneath the crook of her legs, catching it with his foot as it swung open.  As it screeched loudly, he cringed, and he shook his head.  “I’ve really got to do something about that,” he said with the most serious expression.  

Still unsure of what he was doing, she just held on and waited for things to play out as he walked straight past the entryway, not even stopping to pull off his boots or hang his hat on its hook.

“Blue, your shoes!” she said, but he heard none of it.  He just pushed forward, past Blake and Chase, who both stood with wide eyes and gaping mouths in the living room, not even pretending like they hadn’t been watching the entire thing from the window.  

He climbed the stairs with her, unwinded and effortless - he really was in damn good shape - and he carried her straight to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.  Then he set her on her feet to stand before him in the quiet privacy of his personal space.

Harper took a swift glance around the room, which was unsurprisingly tidy and spotless, everything in order and in its place.  Then her eyes fell back on him.  

“Are you sure?” she asked him, still referring to his earlier request asking her to stay.   

She had to ask because this was seriously all too good to be true.  She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect scenario than she found herself in at that moment, and she didn’t want something to pop a pin in it and send it all crashing down around her.

He cupped her face again and stepped into her.  “I’m sure.” 

He moved his lips close to hers and let them graze lightly over them.  “I’m sure,” he repeated. 

He pressed his lips into hers, finding them pliant, soft, and responsive.  “I’m sure,” he whispered another time against her mouth as he started walking her backward toward his bed.

Her breathing became heavier and unsteady.  A whimper escaped her mouth as his hands moved from where they’d trailed up to grip her hair, down to the bottom of her shirt where he slipped beneath it to graze the soft skin of her belly.

“Blue …” she tried, but he continued forward, laying her onto his bed as he climbed over her and nestled himself atop her, never letting his lips leave hers for long.  She accepted it all with hungry, aching need.

“I’m sure,” he repeated once more as he lifted to remove his shirt, then hers.

He made love to her, so fiercely and so desperately that she cried out and sobbed with every stroke of his flesh and hers.  He met her deep sobs with deeper kisses, somehow knowing exactly what she needed.  Every tear she shed was met with tender caresses.  Every touch was a step toward mending not just her, but him as well, and she drank him in, thirsty for everything he offered.

His hands explored her like a treasure hunter who’d just found the treasure he’d spent his entire life searching for.  He pleasured her so deeply and thoroughly, penetrating her with fingers, tongue, and ultimately with all of himself, and she gripped his body with such intense pleasure and need, taking every last drop of love he poured into her.

He kissed her softly, and passionately, and hungrily, reassuring her with every whimper and tear that fell from her.  He sank deep into her, watching as their eyes penetrate each other’s soul, and he thrust deep into her, giving her all the pleasure her body could take.  He made love to her until they were both broken and stripped bare, with every shred of dignity they had whittled down to its very threads, until they could finally take what was left and build each other whole again.

And when they were done, he held her against him, skin to skin, ran his calloused fingers down the curves of her body and whispered a final time.

“I’m sure.”