MY LEGS ARE TOGETHER, MY head nearly touching my knees, when I hear the front door open. Lifting my chin, my breathing hiccups.

He’s standing in the doorway, his suit jacket in his hand, his tie askew and halfway unknotted. The silky black strands I love to touch are sticking wildly up in all directions. But it’s his face, the tautness of his lips, the hesitation in his eyes, that I see most clearly.

Our gazes connect in the glass in front of me as he ambles slowly across the room. All I can hear is my heartbeat thrashing in my chest as anticipation of this moment bears down on me.

He removes his shoes and socks near mine, adds his jacket to the pile, and then joins me on the floor.

He settles in beside me, mirroring my position. He grabs his calves through his dress pants and stretches. I feel him looking at me, his gaze asking me a million questions. I just look at my red-painted toes that I had done for Lincoln’s wedding.

After a few minutes, the tension gets to be too much and I roll away from him and onto my stomach. I press up with my hands like a cobra. He follows suit.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his tie dragging the ground, the sleeves of his shirt unbuttoned and rolled to his elbows. His forearms flex, the vein in the side of his neck pulsing. Everything about this image is as un-Graham-like as it could be.

“I expected you to rip my ass when I walked in. Aren’t you going to say anything to me?” he says, dropping to the ground as I do.

“No.” I roll away from him again, sitting in a butterfly style.

“Good. I’d prefer you listen, too.”

“I didn’t say I was going to listen to you either.”

He chuckles, which only angers me. Glaring at him straight away, I suck in a breath. Mistake. I can smell his cologne and the energy rolling off him, and I have to exhale it as quickly as I took it in. I won’t just brush this under the rug, no matter how I feel about him.

“Mallory, I’m sorry.”

That’s all it takes for the tears to haunt my eyes again, blurring the outline of his chiseled face. His own eyes are filled with so much emotion that I have to look away.

“You’ve said that already,” I reply.

“So I have.” There’s a note of insecurity in his voice that I’ve never heard before, a hint of hesitation that seeps in the words. He blows out a long, strangled breath. “I shouldn’t have acted like I did today. It was childish and I’m completely mortified that I did it. To you of all people.”

“You should be,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. “What you did today was bullshit, Graham. Complete bullshit. Be mad at me. Point out my fuckup. Fire me, for heaven’s sake. But talk to me like I’m an errant child worthy of no respect? Nope.”

“Mallory . . .”

“I’m not done.” I turn to face him, the words flowing. “As your employee, I won’t stand for you to talk to me like that. As your . . . whatever I am to you—”

“Mallory—”

“Stop interrupting me,” I demand. His lips close, his eyes going wide. “I don’t know what I am to you. I don’t know how to define it. But I will tell you one thing: there is no role I’ll play in your life, or anyone else’s, where I will overlook this.”

My chin lifts and I look him in the eye. “I spent too many years being silent about what I wanted. I went with the flow, didn’t rock the boat. Sure, it made for smoother waters for a while but that was at the expense of my happiness and confidence. I know you were angry today and you verbalized that in a way that you wouldn’t normally. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and not say a word. No one is going to talk to me or take me for granted like that again.”

“No one talks to me like this either,” he chuckles.

“I do.”

“Which is why I love you.”

The words are out in a flash and we both recoil just a bit as they land on our ears. I still, my eyes going wide, matching his.

“I was angry today,” he says softly. “I own that. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I wasn’t or that you misunderstood the situation because we both know you didn’t. I didn’t stop and think and separate everything out. I just flew off the handle.”

“Yes. You did.” My shoulders sag even as I fight them to stay strong.

Just thinking about it hurts—my pride, my feelings, my heart.

The light in his eyes dims. “What you don’t know is that today was a day of firsts for me.” He takes a deep breath. “The first day I woke up and stared at a woman before getting out of bed, wishing she would never leave. The first day I failed at something as the head of Landry Holdings. The first day I felt the complete and utter fear of losing someone.”

“You felt that way with Vanessa,” I remind him. He grins as I spit her name like the piece of poison she is.

“No, I didn’t,” he emphasizes. “With her, I felt confused. Fooled. Betrayed when she left. I didn’t feel anything like I felt today. Not close. When you left and I realized what I had done, I felt crushed, Mallory. Absolutely slaughtered.”

That softens my fury and I give him a tipoff by the grin threatening to break out across my lips. His eyes go to my mouth, almost pulling it up by sheer will.

“Vanessa did call me a few days ago. Before Lincoln’s wedding,” he says, his words measured. “I intended on telling you after the wedding. You were threatening to quit and I was so focused on figuring things out with you first. I knew if I told you before, it would be an added thing to deal with.”

“But you didn’t tell me,” I point out, my tone heavy with annoyance.

“Because I forgot.”

“Sure you did. I’m so sure it just slipped your mind because that’s a normal reaction.”

He scoots closer, but doesn’t touch me. I feel my body wanting to reach for him, needing the comfort I’ve come to find in his arms.

“I did. It’s the God’s honest truth. Think about it: you’ve been at my house since the night of Linc’s wedding. Having you in my home, seeing you in my kitchen, in my bed, having you to talk to, to kiss—Vanessa was the last thing on my mind.”

That whittles down my anger a little more. “What did the letter say?” I’m afraid of the answer and hate that he has some kind of connection with this woman in any way.

He leaps to his feet and digs in the pocket of his jacket. He’s nearly frantic, his hands flying through the pockets until he lands on the one in the inside lining. “I don’t know what it says,” he says. “By the way, Raza told me what you said to her.”

“I don’t care if it was out of line—”

“Baby,” he says, turning around and giving me a sexy smile, “that made my day.”

“Really?”

“I’m always the one going to battle for everyone else. You could’ve had her wait or called me in to deal with it, but instead, you did it. You went to battle for me.” He crouches next to me, his eyes now glistening again. “Here.”

In his hand is the envelope from my desk. He shakes it in the air. It rustles like an unwarranted tax paper or court summons.

“I don’t want that,” I grimace.

“I don’t know what it says and I don’t care. If you do, here, have at it.” When I don’t take it, he stands and walks to the garbage. Eyes on me, he rips it down the middle and deposits it in the can. “Satisfied?” he asks.

“Kind of,” I shrug, trying not to grin.

He’s back in front of me in a flash. He takes my hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over my palms. “I’m warning you—I’m not leaving here without you. I told you once that I wouldn’t pretend we didn’t happen.”

“You were talking about fucking me,” I laugh.

“That statement has been amended to mean more.” He stands and tugs me up too. “I want to take your favorite things about me—my passion and intellect, as you say—and apply them to you every day. If you give me a chance, I promise to make you feel like the most treasured woman in the world.”

“You make a lot of promises,” I tease.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me towards him. His lips hovering over mine, he whispers, “Only the ones I intend on keeping.”

“Forgive me,” he breathes. “If I ever act like that again, you can leave and I’ll help you pack your bags. But that won’t happen. You have my word.”

“Pack my bags?” I say, lacing my fingers through his hair. “That sounds a little much, don’t you think?”

“I was at your apartment today.” He pulls away. “I’m going to have a hard time letting you go back there.”

“I am,” I insist. “That’s a deal breaker. We’re taking this slow. While I love Danielle’s gung-ho attitude with the marriage and a baby, that’s not me.”

His breath is hot against my lips as he brushes them against each other. “Will you forgive me?” he asks.

I look him in the eye and see something swirling in the depths of the greens and blues. I’m not sure what it is or what to call it, I just know it’s a look new to me.

As we sit on the floor and he takes my hands and holds them on his lap, I study his face. The lines are taut, a look of concern etched across his forehead. His hands are warm as they encompass mine, squeezing them gently as I choose how to respond.

“When I’m with you,” I begin, my voice cloudy, “I feel like I can conquer the world.”

“You can,” he whispers. “I can’t wait to see you achieve all the things I know you can. And I’m ready to help you in any way I can to make sure you have the means and energy to do it. I want to support you in every way, Mallory.”

My cheeks blush. “You make me feel like I could run Landry Holdings if I wanted to. Your whole family trusts me with things that are so meaningful to them. I can’t describe how that makes me feel.” I look to the floor, searching for words. “When I wake up in the morning, I smile. Do you know how odd that is for me?”

“Not a morning person?” he winks.

“No,” I chuckle. “But knowing I get to spend time with you makes me excited for the day. I feel like . . .” The words I’m about to say crash in my throat and I nearly choke on the emotion they bring.

His hand cups the side of my face. “Like what, Mallory?”

“Like I can do anything. Like I used to feel a long time ago.”

He draws me into him, holding me tight. Twisting me so I sit on his lap, he embraces me in the middle of the studio. “You matter more to me than I thought possible,” he breathes. “I didn’t realize it until I watched you walk out today and it hit me: all the things my brothers said were true. This thing between us isn’t easy, yet I can’t imagine not doing it. Spending time figuring it out doesn’t feel like a potential waste of time. It feels like the only option because I can’t replace you with something else. I don’t want to,” he adds vigorously.

I pull back and look at him as his phone chirps in his pocket. “You can get that if you need to,” I say, needing a little breather anyway.

He takes out the device, looks at it, and holds it in the air between us. “It’s Vanessa. How would you like me to handle this?”

“With a restraining order?” I volunteer, hoping the escalation in my blood pressure doesn’t cause me to black out.

With a deliberate hand, Graham answers the call. “Hello?” He listens for a few seconds before speaking again. “If you think, for a second, that I’m going to listen to you after the way you treated Mallory today, you are crazier than I thought.”

He looks at me, his features softening. “We are nothing more than two people that share an awful memory.” He reaches for my hand and I place my palm in his, waiting with bated breath to see how this goes. “We never loved each other, Vanessa,” Graham says. “I’ve only been in love once. Once you know what that feels like for real, you know if you’ve felt it before. I haven’t. Not with you.”

My smile causes my cheeks to ache as I wrap my arms around his middle. My chest lies against his side, his arm pulling me in closer, as he begins speaking again.

“Try it and see what happens,” he says, his voice cold. “But if you bother me, Mallory, or anyone in my family, you won’t like the consequences.”

He stiffens against me. “Consider yourself on notice: you are not welcome on any Landry property. If I see or hear from you again, hell will break loose.”

His phone slides across the floor and lands against his jacket. I stand still, holding him, afraid to speak. I don’t know what she said, but I do know she got to him and that’s hard to do.

“I’ve wasted so much of my life because of her,” Graham mutters. “Not anymore.”

He lays me back against the mats, his body rolling with some unnamed emotion. My heart races as he lies on top of me, holding his weight off with both hands. “No one can just walk in here, right?” Lifting my shirt and the hem of my sports bra, he exposes my breasts.

“You’re going to worry about that now after you had me with your neighbor listening?”

He grins, melting my heart. “I told you, that was then, when you were just a beautiful woman I was enjoying. This is now.”

“This is now,” I whisper. I’m not sure what all that means, but I know hearing the words fall from his lips, pregnant with so much promise, feels like the best thing in the world.

Closing my eyes, I enjoy his kisses. I relish the way Graham makes me feel. Beautiful and wanted—sure. But it’s more than that. So much more.