known. I’m going to be apologizing for the rest of my life, because even if you forgive me, I’ll never forgive myself. Please believe me when I tell you that it will never happen again.”
Trusting him so easily might make her the biggest pushover around. Love was a crazy motivator. Taking his hand, she joined him on the sidewalk. “I believe you, mystery man.”
“Is that an upgrade from ‘golden boy,’ or a downgrade?”
“It’s a lateral move,” she said, weaving her fingers between his. “I love you both equally.”
The admission stopped him on the spot, the abrupt halt bringing her flush against him. God, he felt good. So warm and hard and…right.
“You said you love me.” A statement, a repetition of the information she’d given, yet so clearly a question.
“I did. And I do.”
“I hate to sound like a girl here, but what does that mean?”
“Hey, no poking fun at girls.” She gave him a playful swat. “I am a girl, you know.”
“Oh, I’m very aware of that fact. I know it and I love it.” He easily countered her halfhearted attempt to escape, pulling her fully into his arms. “I am one hundred percent in love with everything about you. I always will be. No matter how you answer my girly ‘what are we’ question.”
“You’re horrible,” she said, shaking her head. “And I love you just as much.”
His smile accented the crinkles beside his eyes. Little furrows she could picture deepening to charming perfection as he aged into a sexy silver fox, many years down the road. Something she probably wouldn’t get to see in reality.
“Talk to me. You’ve got ‘but’ written all over your pretty face. And it’s not the ‘butt’ stuff I’d like you to be thinking about.” One of the many things she loved about Jake—his ability to inject lightness into a serious conversation without sacrificing its importance.
She needed to focus on the important stuff right now. “But,” she said, easing out of his embrace. “Sometimes love isn’t enough. We’ve already proven that.”
“I disagree. If we’ve proven anything, it’s that we can overcome whatever shit flows our way.” He cupped her chin, holding her there, locked and lost in his intense gaze. “Tell me you believe that. Tell me you believe in us as much as I do.”
“I want to, but—”
He blocked the word with one finger gently pressed against her lips. “No ‘but’ talk. Not unless it’s the kind with an extra ‘t.’”
“You are so relentless,” she said, when he lifted his finger.
“It has a ninety-nine-point-five percent success rate.” Grinning, he brought her knuckles to his mouth for a soft kiss.
Such a simple gesture, yet it made her heart flutter every damn time. “Ninety-nine point five is half a percentage higher than when you stood outside my front door.”
“You want to believe in us. I figure that’s worth half a percent.”
“What about the other half? How do you plan to get it back?”
He squeezed her hand. “You’ll see.”
Her mind was going in a hundred directions as he led her up the walk of an older, two-story house. Jake wasn’t the type to play games. Or hide the truth—unlike she’d done, on more than one occasion. The shit that’d flowed their way hadn’t just come from Enzo’s manipulation, or Jake’s quick-to-react temper. She had contributed too.
“What is this?” she asked, as he pulled a key from his pocket and slid it into the lock.
“A house.” He pushed the door open with a sweeping motion. “Possibly our house.”
“Our house?”
He raised one hand while drawing her inside. “Hear me out before you shut me down.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? Just like that?”
Standing in front of him in the house’s quaint front hall, she nodded. “Just like that.”
“I’m not used to you being easy.”
She gave him a playful shove, the kind he’d probably expected and hoped for, since he used the opportunity to pull her into his arms again. Exactly where she wanted to be. “I know that whatever you have planned, it’s coming from your heart. That’s who you are. It’s how you are.”
Jake’s cop face was sexy, but his no-holds-barred, look-into-my-soul expression melted her heart, along with her panties. As for her rapidly dwindling defenses…they’d be gone completely if he kissed her right now. Based on the trajectory of his mouth, she had about three seconds before that happened.
“Tell me about this house,” she said, before their lips connected.
“Your timing is—”
“Always controlled.”
“Not always.” There was no mistaking the intent in his words. Or his smile. “Want me to remind you of the