CHAPTER THIRTY

He waited.

For an hour.

Then another.

Outside her building, with a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand, his phone in the other. He’d stopped by his house to grab it from the utensil holder inside his dishwasher, then he made a pit stop at a flower shop on the way. He’d been taught never to show up empty-handed for a woman.

In some ways, flowers were just flowers. They were an ordinary, average gift. But since Shannon had photos upon photos of sunflowers in a personal and private album, they obviously meant something important to her. They were more than flowers to her. He hoped this bouquet was more than just an average I’m sorry gift.

That it said he was trying to understand the woman he loved.

Since he’d arrived and parked his bike at the curb, he’d sat on the steps and answered emails from earlier in the day. He’d called her again, and encountered her voice mail once more. He’d paced back and forth in front of the building. At this point, he probably looked like a stalker, and he hoped her neighbors wouldn’t call the cops or neighborhood watch on him. Nobody seemed to care though that he was hovering around the entrance. A hipster with huge headphones had nodded hello on his way upstairs. A brunette with a yoga mat had walked by on her way into the lobby. Some dude in a Buick parked by the curb had even glanced over at Brent a few times, giving a cursory hey there nod.

Brent paced up and down the block to kill more time, his phone clutched in his hand. He reached the corner, turned around, and headed back. The guy was still in his car, his arm hanging out the passenger window, watching Shannon’s building.

A bit too closely for Brent’s taste.

The guy had been there for twenty, thirty minutes now, looking like he was reading a book, but he kept glancing up, scanning the street as if he didn’t want to miss anything.

It reminded him of a cop on a stakeout, only the guy didn’t reek of cop. Something about the guy rubbed Brent the wrong way. It was hard to say what it was, but as he neared the Buick again, he held up his phone as if he were answering a message. Instead, he snapped a few pictures of the license plate and the car, and then zoomed in on the guy’s arm, covered in ink.

He tucked his phone away as he reached the open window. “How’s it going?” he said casually.

“Good,” the guy grumbled. He had a baby face and looked young enough to be carded if he were at Edge. Brent continued along the block, and turned around again at the corner. As he returned, the Buick was no longer idling at the curb. The guy had pulled out into traffic, and was driving away.

Probably just some neighborhood guy. But Brent didn’t like the idea of anyone hanging out outside Shannon’s building for too long. Except for him. Call him a hypocrite, but he knew his own motives. Trusted his own motives.

Then he stopped thinking about anyone but Shannon when her number flashed across his screen.

At last.

He answered in a nanosecond.

“Hey, babe. I’m at your building. Hanging out outside. Looking like a stalker, or maybe like a caged lion in a zoo pacing back and forth. You want to put me out of my misery and make me just look like a man who’s waiting for his woman so he can tell her how much he loves her?”

She laughed, and he savored that sound, the sweetness of it, the way it threaded through him. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it close to him forever. “I can definitely make you look that way. And I got your message. My phone died after my flight, so I didn’t pick it up till a few minutes ago. But I’m glad you’re there because I’m on my way to see a stalking lion who I love, too.”

* * *

After she hung up, she listened to his voice message one more time on speakerphone as she drove. “My phone is in the dishwasher, so I’m calling from a friend’s phone,” he’d said. “I just want to say I love you madly. And I’m on my way over to your house because I’m not walking away. I’d never walk away, and I did a bad job saying that last night, so I’m trying again right now, and I want you to know that I’ve meant everything I’ve said to you in the last few weeks. I will do whatever it takes for you.”

Best. Message. Ever.

As she neared her street, she made one more call to a friend of his, the guy who ran the Luxe. He agreed to help with her project, and so she had everyone lined up. She ended the call as she turned onto her street, the kernel of hope expanding inside her, blooming into something bigger, something full of possibilities. She kept her eyes on the road, but peered up ahead, so damn eager to see him. She spotted him, outside her building, his tall strong frame coming into view. He was pacing as promised, aviator shades on, brown hair glinting in the late sun, and that grin she adored flashing at her. Her heart was fighting its way out of her chest, racing to him, knowing they’d somehow fix the mess they’d made.

Because he was waiting for her.

It was that simple.

She yanked the wheel in a sharp right, the tires squealing as she pulled along the curb and cut the engine. In seconds, she was out of her car, and rushing over to him. He held a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand, and the sight of them made her breath catch.

“Hi,” she said, as he took off his shades and met her gaze.

“Hi.”

Then he wrapped his arms around her, and she did the same, grasping his waist. The flowers pressed against her back. His sunglasses clattered to the sidewalk. “I’m sorry I left last night.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she said.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when it happened.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out like that.”

He lifted her chin with his fingers, raising her face. “I guess we’re both sorry.”

She flashed a rueful smile. “We say that a lot don’t we?”

He nodded, but kept his arms around her. She was glad he didn’t want to let go. She wanted him to hold her.

“Maybe because we fight a lot,” he said softly. “Maybe that’s just too hard a habit for us to break.”

“I think it might be. I just want us to keep coming back together.”

He sighed into her hair, and tugged her close again. “Me, too.”

“I’m glad you didn’t walk away,” she said, looping her hands tighter around his strong waist.

“I came back. I told you I would. I meant it, Shan. I’m not ever walking away from you. As long as you’ll have me, I will always be here.”

She wrenched back to look him in the eyes again. “You,” she said, as she ran her hands along his shirt, “are all I want. When you left, all I wanted was to see you again. For you to come back. To open the door and find you. And here you are.”

He set the bouquet on the ground, then cupped her cheeks in his palms. He gazed at her, his brown eyes full of passion, full of love. “I told you I won’t make the same mistake again. I won’t lose you twice.” He brushed his thumb along her jawline. “Last night floored me. You have to know that. It shocked me to the bone, and I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t know how to feel about everything, but one thing I know is true is that I am in love with you. That’s never going to change, so whatever happens, I want to figure it out with you.”

His words tugged at all her heartstrings. His hands on her face were the reassurance she’d always sought. They were comfort and protection all at once. “I want that too. I want you here with me. Life is better with you, even if we’re dealing with something hard. I don’t claim to have all the answers, but I’ve been through enough to know that whatever comes our way we’ll get through it. And hey,” she said, her lips quirking into a small smile, “that’s my specialty. Maybe that’s what I can help you with. Getting through things.”

He nodded solemnly. “I’ll take it. I need it. I barely knew what to say last night. I left so I wouldn’t say something else that was wrong. Last time I said everything wrong.”

“So let’s say the right things now. It’s my turn. When we started seeing each other again, you said you weren’t going to let me go. You were damn insistent. You made it clear I was yours, come hell or high water.”

He grinned proudly, and nodded. “I did.”

“I feel the same about you. I belong with you, and you belong with me. You and I are fire. We always have been. And sometimes we burn with how much we love. Sometimes we hurt each other. But I will do whatever it takes for you. Just as you will for me. I lost you once, and there’s no way I’m going to let that happen again. Got it?” She poked him in the chest. “You are mine.”

He smiled wide and broad like the sun. “And you’re mine.”

She cast her eyes to the bouquet. “I see you brought me something.”

He bent down and picked up the flowers. “I had this plan to get a skywriter and say King Shmuck says he’s sorry and please take him back, and then have a Mariachi band play ‘You’re the One That I Want’ after you came through security. It was that, or the flowers.” He made a nervous face, one that was clearly deliberate. “Did I pick okay?” he asked.

She laughed and grabbed his arm again, not wanting to let go of him. “I think you did okay, Nichols. You did more than okay. You noticed I like sunflowers, and yellow, and sunshine.”

He held his hands out wide. “Help a man out. I have no idea what your sunflower obsession is, but I know they matter to you, and you matter to me, so I want to know.”

Her laughter erased itself and so did the smile on her face. She turned serious. “You want to know? Even if hurts? Even if you won’t know what to say?”

“Yes. I do.”

She tipped her forehead to her car. “Take me for a ride. I’ll show you.” She handed him the keys, and let him drive.