Cecilia, present day

---

Colin was quiet. Too quiet.

He’d come in a half hour before, his arms full of yummy-smelling baked goods from the restaurant near the lobby. He’d woken her with a gentle kiss and by waving a chocolate croissant under her nose.

But he’d been too quiet as he’d drunk a cup of coffee. All notes of teasing had disappeared, and it was making her uneasy.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announced, pushing back his chair in an abrupt motion that made her jump.

“Okay,” she said, her heart picking up its pace.

Perhaps this was the moment he’d decide to get back on with his life.

Without her.

Well then, so what? She wasn’t that girl anymore. Her chin lifted, and she straightened her shoulders. If he wanted to go, then he could just let the door hit him on the ass—

He kissed her.

“I love you, Cecilia Thiele,” he said softly, when they’d broken for air. One brush of his thumb between her brows. She was probably frowning again. Then he strode down the hall, closing the bathroom door with a click.

But . . . had he just said that?

Why? How?

Blowing out a breath, she shook her head then ate some more of her chocolate croissant. Not in confusion exactly, but definitely in bewilderment.

“I love you,” she murmured, touching her lips. “He loves me.”

And he’d walked away again.

Well, that wasn’t going to stop her. Not this time.

She put down the chocolate croissant—

Why did that make her giggle? But she could imagine a voice through a megaphone blaring, “Put down the chocolate croissant and go attack your boyfriend in the shower! He needs a blow job, STAT!”

Cecilia didn’t know what was wrong with Colin, what had happened overnight or earlier that morning, but he was off and unlike in the past, where she’d tiptoed around, afraid to rock the boat, she decided she wasn’t going to be in a relationship like that again. If they’d talked more, if she’d bent less, if they’d come together instead of drifting apart, things might have been different.

They might have still been together.

She stood and pushed back her chair.

And maybe not, maybe their marriage would have imploded in the end. But what CeCe was realizing with a growing certainty was that the past was the past and if she really did want to move forward with Colin in her life, then things between them were going to have to change.

Old patterns needed to break.

She stripped off her tank top, dropped her pajama pants to the floor, her underwear.

Naked, she pushed through the door to the bathroom.

Then froze.

Colin was fully dressed, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, his hands in his head, the shower on full blast and steam filling the space in little gray, damp curls.

He glanced up at her intrusion, his jaw dropping open even as his eyes went scorching hot. His gaze dipped to her breasts, lower.

And while her stomach clenched in return—this man made absolutely every cell in her body stand up and take notice—her mind was more concerned.

She sank to her knees, feeling the damp air curling around her skin, placing her palms on his knees, the fabric of his jeans almost rough against her bare skin.

“What is it, baby?” she asked, slipping closer when he didn’t touch her in return.

Nothing. Except for his eyes closing and a deep breath expanding then collapsing his lungs.

CeCe reached up and put a hand on his cheek. “Colin? Has something happened?”

His eyes flashed open. “I spoke to Ewan.”

Oh, fuck.

She wasn’t ready for this.

Oh God, she couldn’t face it. Not yet. Not when, despite the years, it was still a fresh and aching wound in her heart.

Not when she’d been so fucking stupid.

How could she have been so stupid?

“Uh—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, agony in every line of his expression.

Cecilia could have told him he was too angry, too drunk, too busy feeling betrayed to listen, but the truth was—

“You weren’t ready to hear it,” she said, keeping her tone gentle because now she saw that he hadn’t really wanted her to leave. They’d both been duped. “And I was hurting too much to realize that you wouldn’t have done that to me.” She sighed. “I should have fought for us. And . . . it doesn’t make any difference to what we’re building now. Not with us looking forward instead of back. I thought we could leave the past where it belonged.”

His fingers came up to grip her shoulders and though his tone was fierce, his touch was gentle. “Except your logic is flawed. We are both holding on to anger that is doing neither of us any favors.”

She paused and considered that. “What I feel for you isn’t anger.”

He stilled. “Then what is it that you feel?”

Love. But she was too scared to admit it.

“This,” she said, stretching up to kiss him rather than confessing her feelings.

Colin allowed her lips to briefly collide with his before he pushed her back. “That’s a distraction. We need—”

“No,” she said. “What I need is for you to press your body to mine and hold me close. I need your kisses to show me what I mean to you, I need your touches to ground me in the here and now. Words are so easy, don’t you see?” She dropped her head to his shoulder. “But actions . . . actions are everything. Please, Col. Please give me everything.”

He stood, helping her step into the shower before stripping off his clothes. “You already have it all,” he said and kissed her.

Water sluiced over their skin, warm enough in actuality but almost freezing cold in comparison to the heat of his body. Nothing felt as good as him pressed flush against her, hard where she was soft, spicy where she smelled sweet. He didn’t have the body of the gym rats she saw in Northern California, but his abs were hard and defined, and his pecs were squeezable to the nth degree.

So she indulged, palming them, loving the way he groaned as she ran her nails over his nipples.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath hot near her temple, his lips kissing the delicate skin there. “I don’t know how you can ever forgive me for what they did to you, for what I thought, for what I said.”

“Don’t—”

“I know. Actions.” Colin’s arms tightened around her. “But I have to say this. Yes, I was manipulated. Yes, they did a bang-up job of doing it. But, fuck, you were mine. I should—” He swallowed hard.

“I am yours, Colin McGregor.” Her lips curved. “Always. Even when I was fighting very hard against it, I could never deny this . . . this thing that ties us together. I knew it from the first time I saw your muddy boots on that hillside, stalking toward me, all brooding-hero-style”—she grinned up at him, relieved to see him smiling back—“and I know it in the man you are today. The one with agony in his eyes and regret in his voice. We both screwed up, but keeping hold of those old hurts will get us nowhere.”

“I could just throttle them—”

“Baby.” She rose on tiptoe, stared him in the eyes. “You know everything now. Can you let it go?”

He dropped his forehead to hers. “I’m so angry. We lost years because—”

“Because we couldn’t find the strength in our relationship to talk it out.” She brushed back a lock of his hair. “If we couldn’t even talk through our first major hurdle—and I don’t disagree it was a damned big one. But we didn’t let it bring us closer. Instead, the deception imploded everything we had, and I think that means we were too young and it wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

“It damn well would have,” he snapped.

She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know I’m just riding this wave of crystal clarity that has come six years too late, but no, I don’t think it would have. Sooner or later your family would have found a way to drive us apart.”

Colin didn’t say anything for a long moment, just held her tightly. But finally, he slowly exhaled and said, “You’re right.”

“Words a woman dreams to hear,” she deadpanned.

He released one hand from her back and used it to tip her chin up. He brushed a kiss against her lips. “You didn’t deserve any of the bad things that happened to you, and I will do my best to ensure every day from this one forward has something good in it.”

“As long as that something good involves you,” she said, closing her eyes and inhaling the clean, warm scent of him, “then I’m sold.”

“And this thing between us?” he teased. “As long as it involves that?”

“Shut it, mister.” She kissed his peck, flicked her tongue over one nipple, grinning when he moaned. “We can’t all be Lotharios spouting perfect romantic sentiments.” He opened his mouth, but she rose up to slant her mouth across his. “Now show me exactly how romantic you can be right here in this shower.”

So he did.

Twice.

And when they fell into bed later that afternoon, the sky already dark, the stars blinking cheerfully down onto them, Cecilia fell asleep with a smile on her lips.