Chapter Thirty-One

He cleaned her up.

With a warm, wet washcloth, he erased the remnants of what they’d done, tenderly taking care of her, as she deserved. After gathering the towels and placing them in her hamper, he carried her into the bathroom, then set her feet down in the shower. She was so soft and warm, and he savored the chance to wash her hair—and wash himself out of her hair. He soaped her up, her breasts, her belly, and her bottom. Kneeling down on the floor, he cleaned her legs, then handed her the soap and she finished.

After a quick wash himself, he ran a tub for them. Not too hot, since it was July, and even in her cool home, no one wanted to soak in the heat. When it was full, he scooped her up, and brought her into the marble bath, letting the water soothe her. He wrapped his arms around her, and snuggled her close.

“Does it hurt?”

She shook her head. “No, but it might tomorrow.”

He kissed her forehead.

“But I’ll probably still want to do it again, even if I’m sore,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“That’s my woman,” he said playfully. He tugged her close. “You are my woman. You belong with me.”

“I know,” she said, resting her face in the crook of his neck. “Do you think everyone at the event will know?”

“That I took your ass tonight?”

She nodded, and splashed water on him.

“As long as you walk like normal, only you and I will know I own your body. But everyone will know you’re with me. And that it’s much more than it was when you first asked me to go with you.”

“It’s so much more for me, too,” she said. Then she seemed to remember something. “Am I going to spend the night at your house tomorrow or will you come here again?”

He pulled her closer, loving that she assumed they’d be together. He wanted to be with her. “Stay with me. But I have to leave early on Sunday morning. It’s a visiting day.”

“Ah,” she said. “I’ll leave early, too, and head home, so you can get on the road.” She seemed to drift off in thought for a moment, then she asked, “Do you ever bring her gifts? Can you give her gifts?”

“Only a few things are allowed. She usually just likes company. She likes seeing me, so I go. Why do you ask?”

She screwed up the corner of her lips as if she were deep in thought. “You said she had a dream to make doggie coats. Right?”

“Yeah. She actually gave me a pattern to hold onto,” he said with a light laugh. It was absurd. But it was also very much like his mom. “It has a dog bone design on the back.”

“Do you have it?”

“I do,” he said, turning to look her in the eyes. “Why?”

“I have an idea. Would you like me to make it for her? As a gift. You could bring it to her. I mean, obviously she doesn’t have a dog in prison. But she might enjoy seeing the jacket. It might make her happy, right? Just to see it. If that was her dream to make them.”

His heart stuttered. It stopped beating for a moment, then it thumped harder against his chest, as if it were trying to fight its way out to get closer to her.

“You’d do that?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Sure. I can sew. I’m sure I’m not great at it like she was. I couldn’t make a living from it. But I know what I’m doing. I still have a Singer machine. I could do it an hour. It’s not hard to make a doggie coat if there’s a pattern.”

“And you’d do that for my mom? Who’s in prison? For murder?” he asked, and he was sure shock was etched on his features.

She shifted in the water that was now cooling. Some sloshed over the side of the tub. “I don’t judge her. It’s not my place,” she said softly, her blue eyes so honest, so guileless. “She’s your mother, and the only thing that really matters to me is that without her I wouldn’t have you in my life. And I want you in my life.”

And then his heart managed to break free. It jumped from the steel cage he’d once kept it in and raced to the woman in his wet arms. He belonged to Sophie. He cupped her beautiful face in his hands and memorized this moment. The cooling water. The dark of the night. The still in her home. The racing of his heart.

She’d bewitched him, and he didn’t ever want to be without the only person, besides his family, who he’d ever loved. “I’m in love with you, Sophie. I’m so in love with you.”

She beamed. A smile broke across her face. “Oh, Ryan. I am so madly in love with you. I never stood a chance of not falling in love with you.”

He smothered her in kisses in the tub. Then he lifted her out, dried them both off, and led her to the bed. Holding her close, he planted kisses all along her sweet skin, from belly to breast, elbow to ear. “I’m so in love with you,” he said, over and over. It was like a dam breaking inside him, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He’d spent so long keeping all his secrets clutched tight and locked up, and this one truth, this incomparable, all-encompassing fact of his existence, insisted on being heard tonight.

He couldn’t stop telling her as he held her tight. “I’m so in love with you I don’t even know what to do.”

“Just love me,” she whispered back, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

“I do. I will,” he said, and he kissed the tear away. “Please love me, too.”

“I do, Ryan. I do love you so much.”

Then, he made love to her as midnight fell across the city of sin. As he moved over her, they were the only two people in the whole wide world.

She’d become his world.