The Last Letter - Rebecca Yarros Page 0,142

the table.

I carried in Ella’s plate and put it in front of her.

“Can I say grace?” Maisie asked as I sat.

“It’s all yours.” We joined hands—mine with Ella and Maisie, and Colt directly across from me—and bowed our heads.

“Our dear Heavenly Father, thank you for our day, and for everything you’ve given us. For our home, and our family: Colt, and Mom, and Beckett, and Havoc. And thank you for Dr. Hughes. But especially, thank you for making me cancer-free.”

My head snapped up, my eyes flying to Maisie, who grinned at me, missing front teeth and all. She nodded, and I just about lost my shit. I turned to Ella, who had tears streaming down her face.

“No evidence of disease. We got the call today.” Her smile was huge as she laughed. Pure, sheer, unfettered joy.

“No way!” Colt threw up his hands in the classic victory sign. At least I wasn’t the last to know.

I pushed back from the table so fast that my chair crashed to the floor. Then I grabbed Maisie out of her chair and hugged her. She buried her face in my neck, and shudders wracked my body as I held her tight.

She was going to be okay. She’d made it. She was going to live.

“Beckett?” she asked.

“Yeah, Maisie-girl?”

“I can’t breathe,” she squeaked.

I laughed and set her down. “We finally get you to live, and now I’m killing you off with my ultra-awesome hugs.”

“My turn!” Colt snatched his sister, and the two jumped and hugged.

“Hey,” Ella said from behind me.

I turned around, and she reached for my face, wiping away tears I hadn’t realized were there. Crossing the line, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close.

Much to my relief, she melted against me, her head fitting in that exact spot below my collarbone that was hers. She held me tight, her hands splayed on my back, and I rested my chin at the top of her head.

“She’s going to be okay,” I whispered.

Ella nodded.

We stood there for long minutes while Colt and Maisie raced around the house shouting and laughing.

“Good surprise?” Ella asked, pulling back just enough to look at me.

“The best possible surprise. Ever.” I cupped her cheek with my hand, letting my thumb caress her perfectly soft skin.

“Food!” the twins called out, breaking our little spell.

We pulled apart and sat back down to the best lukewarm pizza I’d ever had in my life.

“Let me do that,” I told Ella, taking over the dishes a couple of hours later.

“Colt okay?” she asked, wrapping up the pizza.

“After I read Where the Wild Things Are for the tenth time, he was satisfied,” I told her. “Maisie?”

“Off to sleep without a fuss. I think she’s emotionally exhausted.” She leaned back against the counter and watched me slip the plates into the dishwasher.

“Understandable.” I shut the dishwasher. “I can’t believe it’s over.”

“Yeah. It’s so surreal.” She looked off into space. “I mean, they told me the relapse rates, and they’re high. Really high. So, it could come back. But if she makes it five years, then the chances—”

“Ella,” I interrupted, stepping in front of her and taking her face in my hands. “Take the good. Feel the happy. This is the best kind of good, and you did it. You got her here.”

“You got her here, too.” Her voice softened, and she leaned against my hand.

“Okay, we got her here. So let’s take the happy.”

She rose up on her toes and kissed me.

My shock lasted all of a millisecond before I kissed her back. I moved my lips over hers, savoring each touch, because I never knew if I’d get it again. When her lips parted, I took full advantage and deepened the kiss.

Her back hit the counter as my tongue swept into her mouth. Then her hands fisted in my shirt, her whimpers sweet in my ear as the kiss turned explosive. Over and over again I took her mouth, kissing her until she was arched against me, her breasts pressed into my chest.

I ripped my mouth away and stepped back. “Ella.” My breathing was erratic, my heart thundered, and I was pretty sure if I didn’t readjust myself, I’d be losing my dick to boxer-brief asphyxiation in a matter of minutes.

“Beckett.”

“What are you doing?”

“Taking my happy. You’re my happy.” She stalked forward.

“What does this—”

She interrupted me with a soft kiss. “Just be my happy, and let me be yours. We can sort it out tomorrow.”

If I’d been stronger or a little less on an

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