He got me in front of him, kept hold of my hand, but lifted his other to my jaw.
“I’m gonna have to go,” he told me.
“I got that,” I told him.
“You’ll be safe.”
“Of course I will.”
His head jerked.
“Would you leave me if I wasn’t?” I asked.
He stared at me.
“Go,” I bossed. “Do whatever it is you do. Try not to make too much of a mess. Uncle Sam knows you exist now. You don’t need him getting better acquainted with you by introducing you to his penal system. You hear me?”
He kept staring at me.
“Hello, Deacon Deacon Louis Gates?” I called. “Go so you can come back to me. We’re getting married in T minus six months and I kinda need you there when that happens.”
“Cassie Boss,” he murmured.
“That’s me,” I said proudly.
“Fuck, I love you,” he growled.
“Know that too.”
His hand at my jaw jerked me forward; his other hand came to the other side just as his mouth crushed down on mine.
When he lifted his head, my breathing was unsteady, but I’d have to be dead not to be able to be ornery and bossy.
So I commenced doing that.
“You’re far away, you eat and sleep on your way back to me. And before that, you eat and sleep good while you’re away from me. Last, you call me when you’re on your way home so I have plenty of time to make you cookies.”
The grooves dug deep, the crinkles fanned out, his beautiful lips tipped up, and his magnificent tawny eyes started dancing, making me feel precisely what he wanted me to feel.
Warm.
Safe.
Loved.
And happy.
For eternity.