things leave scars deeper than any car crash ever could. I know. I know, because I have the ones to match.”
She let her fingertips drift from his back, up his neck and to his jaw where she moved on to trace his familiar features. “Don’t hide it. And don’t pretend it isn’t there. That’s how we make monsters, Gage. By hiding ordinary things in the closet and letting them feed off the darkness.”
“I’ve always been afraid that no one could ever love me,” he said, his voice a rasp now. She could tell that it cost him to admit that, that his whole body was alive with shame.
And so, she kept on touching him, kept on moving her hands over every inch of him. She looked back down at the tattoo on his forearm, the one that had made her so angry at first. “I did a little bit of reading on tattoos. A black band is usually to remember somebody that died.” She looked up at him. “Nobody died in that accident, Gage. We’re both alive. And we both deserve to live. Really live.” She wrapped her fingers around his forearm, drawing them down to his wrist, rubbing her thumbs over the tattoo.
“I know what I want it to symbolize,” he said, his blue eyes blazing into hers. “I want it to be about death. The way that I lived. The way that I was. The fear. It doesn’t have a place in this. With us.” He pulled away from her hold, wrapping his hands around her wrists, pulling her forward. “I love you, Rebecca.” The words weren’t easy, they sounded as tortured as the rest of them had. As the rest of him was.
But she didn’t mind. Because choosing to love Gage West wasn’t convenient. He was the last man on earth it made sense for her to be with. But he was the only man alive that she wanted.
He closed the distance between them, kissing her hard, a physical affirmation of everything he’d just said.
When he finally pulled away, she laced her fingers through his hair, never letting her eyes leave his face. “I love you,” she said.
“I’ve always thought that I would destroy somebody with all this need inside of me. That it would destroy me.” He took her hand, placed it on his chest. “When I say I love you, it’s with all of me. And I don’t know if that’s too much to ask one person to take.”
“Maybe. Maybe if I were a normal everyday woman who hadn’t been to hell and back, the kind of woman who wouldn’t threaten to shoot you the first time you showed up in her store. Maybe then, I wouldn’t be strong enough to handle you. Maybe then, you would be too much for me to take. But Gage, I’ve already walked through hell, and when that happened I felt like I was alone. Now, I want the chance to walk through life with the man I love. With you.”
“Is that a challenge, Rebecca?”
She smiled, her chest swelling with emotion, her stomach tightening with desire. “Hell yeah, cowboy.”
He wrapped his arms around her, taking a step back, knocking her into a display of Christmas decorations. She didn’t care.
Rebecca Bear was perfectly happy to be set up on top of one of the holiday displays laid out on her antique armoire, since she was being kissed—and kissed well—by the man she loved more than anything.
She moved her hand, bracing herself on the furniture, brushing her fingertips against something. She broke the kiss, looking down at the object. A ceramic bird.
She stared at it for a moment, and then a smile curved her lips.
She had always liked birds. They could fly anywhere, but they always came back home.
All this time, that was why she’d stayed. All this time, part of her had known she was waiting for him.
She looked up at Gage, then pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m so glad you came back home.”
Epilogue
“I NEVER THOUGHT I would see Ace Thompson pouring drinks while holding a baby.”
“Lily is hardly a baby anymore. She’s mobile now,” Rebecca said, looking up at Gage and smiling. Still, even after two years, his heart felt like it got bigger every time she looked at him like that.
And she did it a lot.
“That’s why he’s holding her, I think,” he said, looking over at his brother-in-law who was pretty expertly balancing work and fatherhood as he dispensed refreshments to the guests at the