Chapter Fifty-Six
RHYLAND
I pushed Dylan’s apartment door open.
She wasn’t there.
I tried to tamp down my worry.
I knew she’d gotten here before me because I’d been texting her mom throughout my drive.
Maybe she came straight to my penthouse.
Rather than take the elevator, I took the stairs up two at a time. I needed to see her. Taste her. When I pushed the door open, she wasn’t there. I pulled my phone out, ready to concede in this wild-goose chase, call her and ask where the fuck she was, when I noticed a note stuck to my stainless-steel fridge. It hadn’t been there before. I didn’t even own any magnets. Squinting, I walked over to it.
Meet me at the Stonewell Mall ASAP.
—Cosmos.
(P.S. your dogs are with me)
(P.P.S. not in a ransom kind of way. They were whimpering and wanted to be taken out.)
(P.P.P.S. You do realize they’re your dogs, right? You’re never letting anyone adopt them. Just admit you’re a big softie.)
She used the nickname I gave her.
The one she apparently loathed.
I grabbed my keys and bolted out. I shook my head the entire walk to the local mall. It was ten in the goddamn morning. I didn’t remember what day it was. Or what year, for that matter. I broke into a jog at some point, eager to get to her. I knocked down two delivery boys on bikes and nearly seriously injured an elderly lady. The mall was two blocks down from our building, and by the time I got there, I was sweating harder than Jeffrey Dahmer in a zombie movie. I hurried through the sliding automatic doors, realizing the mall was huge and she hadn’t specified where she’d be.
She didn’t have to.
She was standing right in front of me.
Dylan.
The generic mall fountain was her backdrop.
People were pushing strollers around her, walking around with their coffees and suits, taking business calls, fretting over menus in restaurants, and there she was. The woman of my wildest dreams.
The woman who’s about to become my reality.
The dogs were next to her on a leash, napping on the floor.
As soon as she noticed me, her worried brow smoothed, and her lips broke into a childlike smile. I hurried toward her like a congressman reunited with his long-lost brain cells. She raised a hand before I could scoop her up in my arms.
“Wait,” she said.
I stopped, doing my best not to grumble my protest. We both looked like we could use a meal, a shower, and a two-week vacation. We’d been driving back and forth across the East Coast like a traveling circus.
“Yes?”
“Open your hand,” she commanded.
I did, even though I normally only responded well to orders when we were in bed.
She pressed a smooth silver coin into my palm. “A family heirloom,” she explained. “From Italy.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but she stopped me. “Make a wish, and throw it in the fountain.”
I saw exactly what she was doing. Paying homage to the wishing well we’d visited at Bruce’s.
I didn’t have to think twice. I turned to the fountain, made a wish, and tossed the coin.
“What did you wish for?” she asked.
“You.” Swiveling my body to face her, I took her face in my hands, drawing her close. She was shaking, gripping my hands on her cheeks.
“I’m sorry I left. I never should’ve done that.” Her voice was raw, drenched with grief. “We all deserve to have room to make mistakes. I know that better than anyone.”
“You went through hell and back. It’s understandable.”
I was a sucker for this woman, and I’d have forgiven her for anything, including my own murder.
“No. There’s no excu—”
But I didn’t want her to grovel. I wanted her to remember why we were both here, running on zero sleep. I crashed my lips against hers, drowning out her protests, and when she whimpered and tried to push me away, I bit down on her lower lip, drawing it into my mouth and swirling my tongue to tease it. Finally, she melted into submission, locking her arms around my neck and extending her own tongue to dance with mine. This was entirely inappropriate for the time and place, but considering my desperation for this woman, bystanders should be grateful we were keeping our fucking clothes on.
When she ripped her mouth from mine, her lips were red and swollen, her eyes drowsy.
“It’s not going to be easy,” she warned.
“I’m used to hard things.” I cocked one eyebrow smartly.
“I’m sassy and stubborn and can be completely insensible,” she continued.
“Thank fuck for that. I’d get bored after a minute if you were anyone else.”
“I come with a kid.”
“I have enough space in my apartment.” Pause. “And my heart.”
“I also come with baggage.”
“Never been a light traveler myself.”
“I want to live on a farm.”
“I can afford places both in the city and on the outskirts.”
She was running out of warnings, and I was running out of patience. I wanted in her pants. I wanted to take her back to my place and worship at her body’s altar.
“I’ll drive you crazy,” she hedged.
“I’m already mad about you.”
“You don’t want kids. I might change my mind,” she pointed out.
“No, no. I changed my mind. I love kids. Want a ton of them. Like, maybe four or…six.”
“What if I don’t want another kid?”
“Then we’d travel the world and enjoy our independence.”
“What if I want four more?”
“Then we’d travel the world after hiring a harem of trustworthy nannies and bring them with us.”
She swatted my chest, which was rumbling with barely contained laughter.
Silence.
“Is that all?” I asked.
“No. There is one more thing.”
“What is that?” I drawled.
“I love you back.”
That confession resulted in another R-rated kiss.
“What I feel for you is far greater than love and eons more dangerous.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “I want everything you have to give, Dylan, and I am an only child. Not good at sharing. You’re going to have your hands full.”
“My hands are capable.” She gave me a peck on the lips. “My mouth too.”
I bit my fist in response, going down on one knee and taking out the engagement ring she gave me back before she left for Maine. “Dylan, baby, this ring was meant for you. It was always yours, from the moment I saw it at the jewelry store. It was way out of my budget at the time, but I still knew it couldn’t be anything else, because this screamed you.”
“It was my dream ring.” She let me slide the ring back onto her wedding finger.
“I know. I asked your mother for that board before I came back to New York. It’s in my trunk. I’m going to embarrass you for a few hours by dissecting every single thing about it.”
“Rhyland.”
“Hey, I’m not finished Then I’m going to fulfill every single dream you’ve ever had.”
“Even the Chris Hemsworth one?” she sassed.
“Fine. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent of your dreams.”
She laughed. “Thank you.”
“For what, baby?” I stood up.
“For making me courageous. For teaching me how to chase my dreams again. With you by my side, I think I can actually become a doctor. I want the big wedding I dreamed about when I was a kid. The puffy, dessert-looking dress that is out of fashion but that I married my Barbie in. The ring you chose for me, which was perfect. The violins.”
“We’re having violins?” I grinned.
“We’re having violins,” she confirmed.
“Did Barbie marry Ken, baby?”
“Yes.” She kissed me, clinging to me. “But Row’s G.I. Joe was her side piece.”
I snorted into our kiss, scooping her up. She wrapped her legs around me.
“Also with Spider-Man, Batman, Korg, Valkyrie, and the green PJ Masks figure,” she mumbled into our kiss.
“Christ, Dylan.”
“Hey, Ken emotionally checked out of that marriage as soon as they went to their beachside honeymoon in my kitchen sink. Kudos to her for moving on.”
I kissed her again. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I love Grav too, you know.”
That last one earned me much more than a kiss.