“Wow.”

Glenn rested a hand low on my back as we climbed out of the car and took in the view.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Voice thick, I inhaled, the familiar scent of a brisk October day in Philadelphia filling my lungs, my head…my soul. “It’s just…home.”

Glenn and I had talked.

We both wanted to start over, but he’d been the one to say he wanted a whole new start—one that meant leaving California.

Then he’d asked if I’d like to come back to Philadelphia.

At first, I’d been reluctant.

But the more I'd thought about it, the better I'd felt about the idea. Now that I was here, my chest felt so full, like it would burst.

I was home.

It hadn’t been that long, not by my own timetable, that I’d been here. But in other ways, it wasn’t even something that time could measure.

So many things looked the same. The bright colors of the leaves, a sign of autumn making its mark on the city. The stately old houses, some of them so well kept, it was clearly a point of pride. Others were like shabby old ladies who were long past their prime and they knew it, but the air of genteel beauty was still there—and if one knew how to look, it was still very easy to see.

Glenn had purchased a house with just those qualities, one that I remembered seeing as a child. By then, it had been marked for demolition after decades of sitting abandoned. It wasn’t far from where my dad had grown up.

He’d shown me the house once, and I’d felt this surreal tug towards it.

When Glenn had asked me where I wanted to live, this house had come to mind and the idea wouldn’t go away.

Maybe, just once, I’d be able to see my dad again. Even if he was just a little boy.

“Everything is so familiar,” I finally said, looking over at Glenn. “Even though it’s not. Not really.”

He curved an arm around my shoulders. “Can you be happy here?”

“You’re here with me. So…absolutely.”

* * *

The first day at my new job had proven to be both delightful and exhausting.

I’d ended up at a library after all.

I’d also, as luck would’ve had it, ended up at one that was struggling and in need of funds. Glenn was already planning to act as an anonymous patron. I wanted to make a mark on things, and he had decided that he still wanted to honor Cane.

I’d asked if he’d considered offering a bequest to a library.

He’d thought that would a good idea. He'd told me that Cain had struggled to read early in life, and it had been a librarian at a local library who’d changed things for him.

We’d gone to the library close to the house we were making an offer on, and while he’d been discussing all things patronage, I’d seen the help wanted sign.

In the end, he’d been shaking hands, and I’d been getting the information on when to report for work.

I had a job.

I had a new home, one we’d make our own.

I had a man who loved me and a healthy baby growing inside me.

I was decades away from my own time, but I had come to accept that everything happened for a reason.

Somehow, I’d find a way to get a message to my mom and dad and let them know that I was happy. I was safe. I was loved.

That was the one thing on my mind as I let myself into the house. The smell of freshly cut wood and paint filled my senses, and I paused to look around. Over the past few weeks, bit by bit, more things were changing. By the time Christmas rolled around, the house was supposed to be done.

I wasn’t in any hurry, though.

This house, when it was done, would look like it had when it had first been built, maybe even better. And it would be cared for, passed on to our children.

I sighed, something sappy and sentimental welling up inside me. Stripping my jacket off, I called for Glenn.

He called back, his voice echoing from the back of the house.

I made my way down the hall, pausing by the room he’d taken as his own. An office. One hand on the wall, I lingered, eying the typewriter and the ever-growing stack of pages.

He was writing.

I’d come home a week ago to find him bent over a new typewriter, pounding on it like the hounds of hell were chomping and growling, waiting for him to finish those pages. It had taken two tries to get his attention.

When he’d finally heard me, he’d given me a sheepish smile, but it had taken some coaxing to get him to talk.

He had, apparently, had ideas for books and screenplays for a while. He just hadn’t ever had the courage to try. “After the mess with Kimberly…that changed. We can’t wait around for life to happen, baby. We have to make it happen,” he’d said.

So, he was writing. If nothing ever came of it, he’d told me, he was fine with it. He had enough money that we didn’t have to ever work. I’d told him I had to do something, and he understood that. But at the same time, he was tired of the spotlight, tired of the camera. He wanted something more.

I resisted the urge, as I always had, to sneak in and pick up the pages to read, instead, moving deeper into the house.

I found him in the kitchen.

It was the only room in the house that was done so far, and I always smiled when I came in.

But not tonight.

Tonight, I gasped.

The lights were dim. There were candles on the table and on the counters.

Roses the color of snow filled vases, and their scent perfumed the air.

And Glenn stood on the far side of the room, holding a single white rose.

“What’s this?” I asked, my breath hitching in my throat.

“A seduction.” He moved toward me, each step slow and unhurried.

“I’m seduced.” With a weak laugh, I accepted the rose.

Glenn didn’t let go, though. He reached for my free hand and turned it palm up.

Something fell against my hand.

Automatically, I looked down. Then my breath locked in my throat. Candlelight made the stone sparkle in the most delicate of ways.

It was familiar, that ring.

I’d worn it once before.

I started to shake.

“Oh.” I let the ring fall into my hand. Without conscious thought, I tightened the grip I had on the rose with my other, not realizing what I’d done until a missed thorn pricked my fingers. Crying out, I let the rose go.

As it fell to the floor, Glenn took my wrist and lifted it. He dabbed the few drops of blood away, then kissed the inside of my palm.

“What is this?” I asked again, my voice shaking now.

“A proposal.”

Blinking away tears, I asked, “Haven’t we done this?”

“Nobody says we can’t do it again.”

He kissed me then, while I gripped the ring tightly.

“What do you say, Maya? Marry me?”

* * *

Sleepy and sated in the way a woman can only be from excellent sex with the man she loved, I lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Sleep edged ever closer.

I wasn’t ready to sleep though.

Lifting my hand, I studied the ring, smiling. I couldn’t remember the last time—

Abruptly, I sat up, staring out the window.

Glenn stirred next to me, then reached over to rub my back. “What’s the matter?” he mumbled. “Can’t sleep?”

“Get up,” I said urgently. “We have to go to the river.”

“What?”

I shook him. “Get up.”

I climbed out of bed and half-stumbled over to the dresser. He was out of bed a few seconds later. “Are you…Maya, is the baby okay?”

“The baby is fine.” I turned on the lamp. “We have to go to the river.”

“Why?” He held a hand in front of his eyes, standing naked by the bed.

I was too frantic to take notice. “I have to throw my locket away.”

That caught his attention.

Slowly, he reached for the jeans he’d discarded earlier. “The locket. The one that…”

“Yes. Yes. Hurry up!” I shoved my hands through my hair and went into the bathroom to pee.

When I came out, he was dressed and standing by the dresser where the jewelry box sat. Nothing was in that jewelry box, save the locket. “Will you get it out?”

He nodded. “What about the journal?”

“I haven’t seen it,” I said, my voice tight. “Let’s go. I want to throw it away.”

“If you do that…” Solemnly, he turned his head and met my gaze. “You’ll never be able to go back. You won’t see your mom and dad again.”

My heart clutched. My eyes stung. “I know. But you’re my home now, Glenn. Let’s go.”

* * *

It only took a few minutes to go from our house in Queen Village to the river. It wasn’t anything close to what it would be in my time, although there were ships still moored there. I didn’t even know if the area was called Penn’s Landing now or not, but there was still a sense of familiarity to it.

Glenn held the necklace loosely in his right fist. With his left, he held my hand.

“You’re sure?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.” As we stopped there, the river a rippling stream of silver in the moonlight, I squeezed his hand.

He nodded, and then, as I closed my eyes, he threw the necklace.

“What now?”

“Take me home,” I said quietly. “And make love to me.”

* * *

In the end, it wasn’t Glenn who made the move once we got home. A soul-deep need for him had taken root, just like the panic to get rid of the locket. Now that the locket was gone, the need was taking over.

It was a miracle I didn’t jump him on the street.

Once the door closed behind us though, I turned and grabbed him, moving against him in a rush.

Glenn made a surprised noise in his throat, but it turned to rough pleasure as I arched into him. Gripping his hips in my hands, I rubbed against him, feeling the heavy length of his cock against my belly. He was already hard, already thick. Wanting me as much as I wanted him.

He went to pull away, whispering against my mouth. “Bedroom?”

“No. Here. I can’t wait.”

He turned us around and boosted me up, bracing my shoulders and back against the wall. The skirt I’d pulled on was shoved to my hips. He slid one hand up my thigh, brows arching. “No underwear, Maya.”

“I was in a hurry.”

“Now or then?” The slightly wicked slant of his grin hit me hard and I shuddered, then shivered again as he reached down and stroked me, his thumb parting my flesh.

There was no way he couldn’t notice how wet I already was.

No way he couldn’t notice the way my nails bit into his arms as I rocked against him, whimpering low in my throat, my need almost painful in its intensity.

“Shhh…” he murmured soothingly as he leaned in to kiss me gently.

But I didn’t want gentle. I caught his lower lip and bit down. It wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t a soft little love bite either. “Don’t make me wait,” I said as he lifted his head.

He gave my clitoris a slow, thorough stroking and then set me down. My stomach clenched with need, my heart thudding painfully against my ribcage.

“I want you naked,” Glenn said.

With that, he reached for the zipper of my skirt and jerked it down so savagely, I thought I heard fabric rip. The skirt was gone in seconds, followed by the blouse I’d pulled on sans bra. His t-shirt and jeans soon followed soon and then he caught my hips and boosted me up. “Hold on,” he said in a voice just above a growl.

I didn’t have time to do much more than take a breath as he positioned himself at my entrance.

Then he filled me with one deep, hard stroke.

He withdrew, then filled me again.

Over and over, he thrust into me, hard and fast, and I scrambled to hold on, to cling to him as the world threatened to spin away from us.

Nothing else mattered in that moment. The rest of the world, time, people, all of it was gone.

Glenn twisted his hips, slanting mine in at the same time.

I cried out as the pleasure took hold, whipping through me, then exploding.

Again and again, over and over, he moved.

Then, his body went rigid, one hand gripping my ass. Panting and barely able to wheeze out a breath, I buried my face against his chest.

He slid his thumb up the seam of my ass, then back down.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he said in a raw, low voice against my ear.

His mouth took mine then, demanding my obedience to his command. I held him more tightly, determined to never be apart from him again.