CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Rory
T he moment when Willow saw me standing outside the car at school pickup was perfect. She was so excited, literally running the last thirty feet between us once she caught sight of me. This moment though… I didn’t even let myself dream it would be like this. I didn’t know what to expect after the radio silence of the past month and a half. Now, with Breck’s hands tenderly framing my face and his lips insistent against mine… I know I made the right decision.
I lean into him and inhale his scent. It surrounds me to the point where there’s nothing else. No one else.
A throat clears nearby and a giggle follows. Wes and Willow, thick as thieves those two. Breck and I pull apart, still not acknowledging the rest of our little group. His thumbs trace over my cheekbones and his eyes search mine.
“What’re you doing here?” he asks, almost reverently, like he can’t believe it’s me in his arms.
“This,” I murmur, pressing up on my toes to kiss him again. It’s as good as I remember.
After a moment, Breck steps back, only to pull me into his side like he can’t stand not touching me now that I’m here.
He narrows his eyes and uses his free hand to point at my brother. “You—why didn’t you tell me?”
Wes shrugs with a wicked smirk on his face. “Can I hug my sister now?”
The apartment isn’t huge, but I run the few paces between us and jump into his arms.
“I’m here!” I squeak in his ear.
“You’re here. God, I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He holds me a little tighter before finally releasing me so he can look me over. “Your flight was okay?”
“Perfect. A little long. Think you could talk to Qantas about that?” I sigh, grinning. “I could probably use a shower.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Wes says, pulling back farther and making a face.
I swat his arm. “Rude.”
“I only meant because you two,” he says, indicating between me and Breck, “are going out.”
“Wait, what?” I jerk back.
“Yup.” He looks at Willow. “You up for pizza, a movie, and a sleepover with Uncle Wes and Aunt Joss?”
“Hell yes!” Willow bursts out.
“Hey! Language,” Breck scolds her, but he looks like he really couldn’t care less.
“Well, that’s settled. You”—he points at me—“shower, and you two can leave when you’re ready.”
“But… are you sure?” I ask. I’ve only gotten to see him for five minutes.
“Would you stop? You’re here for two weeks.” He waggles his finger. “And you two have a lot to talk about.”
Breck steps up next to me, his hand skating along my low back to my hip. “I don’t have anything here for Willow. I didn’t know about this plan. Rory, you good with this? You must be exhausted.” His fingers dance along my cheek to cup my face, searching for the answer in my eyes.
Yes, I’m exhausted, but when he looks at me like that… It’s like a shot of adrenaline, and I could ride that high all day.
“Willow’s covered,” Joss says. She shrugs like they didn’t have this whole thing planned well before they had any idea how today would go. Or maybe they had more faith in this happening than even I did.
“You guys,” Breck says, the sweetest softness in his voice.
“Oh and,” Joss continues over him, “tomorrow, we’re all climbing the Harbour Bridge.”
Willow bursts in. “Wait, we get to climb the bridge tomorrow, for real?”
“For real,” Wes says, then looks at me. “Go. Shower.”
Walking out forty-five minutes later, I feel like a whole new woman. The bodice of the jumpsuit I chose for tonight is fitted, from the skinny straps down to my waist, before it flares out into wide-leg pants. I love the way the stone-blue color pulls out the darker facets of my eyes and doesn’t wash me out since I’m extra pale from the winter back home.
The room stills when I enter, Breck catching sight of me from where he leans against the kitchen counter. His laughter stills, the smile freezing on his face and the blue of his eyes burning brighter.
“Are you two going to moon over each other like this all the time? Ugh, I don’t know if I can take it,” Wes jokes and turns to Willow. “Gross, right?” He sticks his tongue out, feigning a gag and making Willow giggle.
“So gross.” She nods but then she says, “But that’s what you do when you love someone.” She shrugs, and with that bomb dropped into the middle of the room, trots over to me and gives me a hug. “You look beautiful.”
“Th-thank you.” All the adults just look at each other, the L-word hanging between us in that way it only can when it hasn’t been said between the people who are expected to say it.
“Well, okay then, y’all should go.” Wes clears his throat. “Do you have, um, stuff for later?” He looks at my empty hands.
“For later?” I ask, confused.
Joss walks over and quietly whispers in my ear, “Willow is having a sleepover here, so if you wanted to have a sleepover too…”
“Oh.” I look at the guys. Breck’s face is a mixture of embarrassment and desire, and Wes looks like he could throw up. I laugh awkwardly and run back into the bedroom to throw an overnight bag together as quickly as possible, feeling my blush all the way down to my toes.
Breck’s already at the door and waiting when I emerge.
“Would you rather walk or drive to dinner?” he says, bringing my hand up to his lips. The swoop in my stomach has nothing to do with the quick descent of the elevator. “You must be so tired.”
“I’m okay. Walking sounds good.”
His eyes trail down my entire body until they land on my wedge sandals.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
“Yes. They’re comfortable. Now come on, show me your city.”
He smiles wide, his dimples stretching across his handsome face. We stop to put my bag in his truck, which he tells me is called a “ute” in Australia. He then informs me I’ll have to learn proper Australian-English if I’m going to be hanging out here.
We reach a seawall within minutes, and I pull my hand free and splay both on the concrete, giving myself a second to take in the striking view of the city around me. I’ve seen it before, but it feels brand new after all these years.
Beyond the landmarks Sydney’s known for, it’s the sunset—the sky a canvas of purples and blues that bleed down to reds and oranges toward the horizon that falls behind the buildings of the city—that takes my breath away.
“Wow. So beautiful,” I say, turning to find Breck lowering his phone.
“I couldn’t agree more.” He closes the distance between us and threads a hand into my damp hair before kissing me gently.
How did I get through the last seven weeks without him? I lean in just when he pulls back, pressing his forehead to mine, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Rory, I—what’re you doing here?”
I duck my head, nerves taking over. Am I misreading all of this? He kissed me, right? Now and earlier.
He must read the question in my facial expression because he quickly continues. “I’m thrilled you are, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself—or more ahead of myself than I already have. I just… I need to know you’re here for the reasons I hope you are,” he says, and I relax, relief washing over me.
I cut off his protests, his attempts to backpedal, his worries that I’m not here for him, with a soft kiss. “Hey, don’t go overthinking. We’re a no-overthinking zone, remember.” I kiss him again. “How about you buy me dinner and I tell you everything, yeah?”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He grabs my hand and pulls me along the harbour to a restaurant with an outdoor seating area.
Once we order, Breck slides his hand across the table and I take it in an instant, hungry for the connection. After almost two months apart, I want to fuse myself to him so I never have to miss it again.
“So,” he says, rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand. “Tell me everything.”
I blow out a breath and shake my shoulders. I’m about to lay my heart on the line and it’s both terrifying and exhilarating.
“First, I couldn't have asked for a better welcome. I didn’t want to get my hopes up for how you’d react when I arrived. If I’d dreamt up a perfect hello, it would’ve been that kiss. I just… I’ve missed you so much.”
His grip tightens and he closes his eyes, breathing out on a sigh. “So you’re here for—”
“You. And Willow. Wes and Joss too. But really, I just needed to see you. Needed to know if I was the only one feeling like I was missing a part of myself.”
He chuckles lightly. “And here I was hoping you brought the piece of me I left with you.”
“Really?” I whisper, scared to let myself believe this is real.
“Yes. I’ve been walking around this city wondering how it could feel so little like home. I think it’s because my heart wasn’t here anymore.”
“Well, that’s pretty much how I’ve felt too.”
His shoulders relax and I swear his smile could light the city. “What’s your plan? How long are you here?”
“I have two weeks.”
Breck’s eyebrows rise. “How’d you make that happen?”
“The ski season ended and I officially left my job at the resort last week. I also left some time open in my elopements schedule so I could come and get the guy. Is it working?”
He stands and rounds the table to kiss me, crowded restaurant and prying eyes be damned. His hands are on my face, lips insistent against mine, and I melt into my chair. There’s a whistle and I duck my chin, flushing crimson. “Hell yes it is,” he whispers, a sultry heat in his gaze.
He moves back to his seat and takes my hand again, like he didn’t just make my toes curl in front of a restaurant full of people.
“You did it then? You’re a full-time photographer? God, I’m so proud of you!” He beams with joy.
“I am.” I nod my head, feeling embarrassed at the praise, but dammit, he’s right. I did do it, and he doesn’t even know the best part. “And I signed a contract with a bridal magazine in Sacramento.”
“ What ?”
“Yeah. It’s a partnership with Sacramento Weddings Magazine . I guess you were right that eloping is the growing trend. They want to showcase great locations for smaller, intimate weddings. So they’ll send me business and I’ll send them features. I have my first shoot for them when I get home.”
“Baby.” His voice softens on the endearment, full of pride and something else that makes me melt for him. “That’s amazing. I’m in awe of you.”
“And you know what? That was it.” I hold his gaze across the table. This is important. “That was the moment I realized none of this success matters if I don’t get to share it with you. I don’t know what that looks like exactly—because you’re here and I’m there—but I know when good things happen, I want to tell you first. Do…” I stammer. “Do you want that?”
“Yes. God yes. That and more,” he says. “We don’t have to figure out every detail tonight. I want to share a meal with you. I want you to tell me everything I’ve missed, and I want to tell you everything. Then I want to take you home and do all the things I’ve dreamed of doing for weeks.” His eyes grow dark, making everything inside me tighten with want.
“Okay.” It’s just one word, but it feels like a promise of so much more.