My breath hitched and stalled in my chest. I held it there, staring at him, disbelief overpowering me.

“Mason?” I asked. My house was just to the right, and the rain pattered down on my head, plastering my hair to it and my work blouse to my skin. Everything was clammy and too hot despite the rain, thanks to Louisiana’s special brand of summer storm.

The man I’d been silently cursing—while fantasizing about at the same time—stood a few feet from me. He was gorgeous.

Thor mode activate—that type of sexy. The water soaked through his white cotton T-shirt and pressed against his defined abs, his pecs. His blond hair was flat now, and he blinked water at me by the light of the lamppost.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to look for you,” he said, through the rain. “Why didn’t you take your car to work?”

“Broke down again,” I said. “Though I don’t get why that’s relevant. Look, I’m—” What could I say, that I was glad he was back? Not really. I was terrified. “I meant to talk to you before you went wherever it was that you went. I—I need to tell you something.”

“I already know.”

My stomach did a 360-degree flip. “What?”

“Your sister called me. In a rage. It doesn’t matter.” Mason strode closer, his footsteps heavy on the concrete, slapping in and then out of a gathering puddle. “You’re pregnant,” he said, and his gaze danced from my face, down to my body, and up again. “You’re pregnant, and I’m a fucking idiot.”

“I want to say both are true, but that’s just because I’m feeling particularly grumpy,” I replied, pressing hair back from my forehead and smoothing it back over my head. “Yes, I’m pregnant. You’re the father. I didn’t know how to tell you other than in person. I tried—”

“I know,” he said. “I’m an idiot because I hesitated. I fucked up, Becca. I left you here without a word because I couldn’t deal with everything that’d gone down between us. I wanted more than I thought I could offer you, but I was so fucking wrong. Becca, I couldn’t handle the fact that I was falling for you. That I have fallen for you.”

“W-what?” I wasn’t shivering from the rain. It was this moment.

“I love you,” he said, pronouncing each word with purpose. “I think you’re the first person I’ve ever truly loved. I had to get some distance and perspective to realize that I can’t do this without you anymore. I just want you near me, all the fucking time. And not just physically. In every way. I fucking love you, woman.” The last words came out as a growl. “And I know things will be complicated because of the baby, but…” He dropped to one knee in front of me, took both my hands in his. “I’m willing to make it work if you will. Becca, will you marry me?”

I shuddered a gasp. “Mason—”

“Be mine, forever.”

“No,” I said, and my soul quivered at how his face crumpled into an expression of pain. This was Mason. Always so strong, so powerful, so vulnerable in front of me. “And not because I don’t want to be with you. I do. I really want to be with you. Mason, I love you too.” I raised my voice as the rain came down harder. “I do. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. I just don’t want to rush into something and wreck this before it’s begun. So, no, I won’t marry you until we’re absolutely sure that this is a responsible thing to do.”

He rose slowly and looped his arms around my waist, drew me close to his body. Our shared heat pressed between us, and I sucked in a gasp. God, I’d forgotten what it was like to feel him against me. His presence, our connection.

“But you want this,” he said.

“Yes. I want you. I want this. I want help raising our baby. I want to work through it all. I want what’s best for all of us. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I melted into his arms as he placed another kiss on my lips. The pain and fear of everything that’d happened between us evaporated on contact. How could I have ever doubted this feeling? This man?

We’d been destined for this since the first moment we’d met. Since he’d caught me as I’d fallen from the ladder.

Maybe that was what we were. Two people catching each other as we fell, in pain or in love.

His kiss was warm and wet, and my body responded to it, lighting up for him, tightening.

Mason lifted me off the sidewalk and into his arms. He kicked open my front gate and walked me up the path, the rain beating down on us harder now, even as we kissed, as we connected all over again. We were up the porch, then the door was unlocked, and we were inside. Up the stairs, into the bedroom. Naked again, naked with each other on the bed.

And then he was inside me, and we moved together, my legs and arms wrapped around his body, my wetness against his heat and length. His thickness.

Every part of our bodies touched. Every breath mingled.

“Fuck,” Mason groaned against my lips. “Fuck, angelface. I missed you so much. I missed you.”

“Me too.” I pressed into him, letting out a low squeal that was entirely animal. “Make me yours all over again. Please, Mason. I need it. Yours.”

“You already are, baby,” he said as he filled me, again and again, sending exquisite spirals of pleasure through my body. “And you always will be.”

And I always would be.

Through it all, through the pain, the comfort, the pleasure, the fear. Mason and I had stripped each other down to bare parts and put each other back together again.

We were who we were meant to be. And we were together. For now, and forever.