Chapter 41
forty-one
VANESSA
That wasn’t the last time I came home to find him sitting on my doorstep.
He showed up every single night that week, and the entire week after that.
I guessed since I had never explicitly asked him to leave, he just kept coming back—and though I hadn’t admitted it to him yet, that was entirely fine by me.
I knew—deep down, I knew—that if I ever told him to go, he would. No questions asked.
Some nights, it was incredibly hard not to just throw myself at him, especially when he stood the exact second he caught sight of me, physically bracing himself for whatever harsh words I might say.
The day after the flowers arrived, he’d shot up from the porch steps like usual, and I had asked him if he would help me with something.
He said yes before I even finished explaining the request—he hadn't cared what I actually needed, he just wanted to help. Together, we had delivered a vase of flowers to every single neighbor on the block. It was a massive mistake on my part. Now, every woman within a one-mile radius was probably half in love with him, entirely ready to take my place if I didn’t hurry up and forgive him.
The truth was, I already had. How could I not?
On the last night though, he didn’t stand.
He just watched me walk up from the edge of the yard, his hair deliciously ruffled the exact way I liked it.
I had been buried alive working with Emma—the early stages of launching a business were brutal, and ours was proving to be no exception.
Elliott had strictly kept his promise to stay out of my professional space, but I had a strong feeling Emma had been feeding him daily updates.
The corporate contracts were finally getting finalized.
Elliott had already officially stepped away from Ever After Bridal, and Emma said the formal announcement would go public in a few days.
Morgan and Elliott’s uncle Gregory was set to take over as full CEO and owner.
The bitter truth was that Gregory was always more about the bottom-dollar profit than the artistic vision, and that wasn't what their mother had ever envisioned. Catherine James would finally be truly hers, and theirs—carrying on Catherine’s original dream.
I dropped my heavy bags on the ground, and he finally rose to his feet.
He was wearing a tight gray thermal shirt that hugged his torso like a second skin.
I walked right up into his space, wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, and pressed my forehead right into the warm crook of his shoulder.
He exhaled a long, heavy sigh into my hair and folded his arms completely around me, crushing me against him.
He was almost a foot taller than me, but whenever I was in his arms—rare as that had been over the last ten years—it always felt like our bodies perfectly fit. Like I belonged right there.
I didn’t know exactly how long we stayed frozen like that, only that any human closeness didn’t feel close enough.
When I finally tried to ease back, I barely moved an inch.
His stubble scraped softly against my cheek as I dragged my face along his.
Before I could even open my eyes to meet his gaze, our lips connected, and my eyelids fluttered shut.
I tilted my head back to give him better access, and good Lord, he took it—pulling me tight against his frame, shifting our weight until he had lifted me to perch on the porch banister with him standing directly between my thighs.
We kissed like reckless, desperate teenagers, and in a way, we still were.
He was already hard against me, and I was aching for him.
It was beautiful, scorching hot, and embarrassingly needy all at once.
A soft moan slipped out of my throat when he pressed his weight directly against my center. That sharp sound was what finally made him force himself to pull back. He was breathing heavily, and my own lungs were starved for air.
“This is your parents’ front porch, Ness,” he rasped.
He stepped away for a single heartbeat—too far, too fast—before immediately coming right back to me, sliding his hands slowly up and down my thighs until my body practically hummed with frustrated need. God, I had missed this. Missed him.
He gently cupped my chin, his thumb tracing the curve of my jawline.
“Do you want to stay tonight?” I asked, silently praying to whatever god was listening that he would say yes.
He hesitated, and my heart instantly sank.
He must have seen the disappointment flash across my face, because he tipped my head back, his voice incredibly rough. “It’s not that I don’t want to—believe me, Vanessa, I do. I just…”
I stuck out my bottom lip, deliberately teasing. “You just what?”
His dark eyes darkened even further. “I just don’t trust myself.” His thumb lightly grazed the outline of my lower lip. “And this is your parents’ house. It wouldn’t be respectful to them.”
I felt like a stubborn toddler whose favorite toy had just been snatched away. “My niece Chloe was conceived in the garage, Elliott. Trust me, this is a completely judgment-free zone.”
A brilliant grin spread wide across his face, instantly melting every single cell in my body into a puddle of glittery pink goo.
“I almost lost my mind and had you right there in that club closet, and in that cabana” he admitted, clearing his throat roughly. “I don’t have an ounce of self-control around you, and I know damn well you don’t either.”
I wanted to stomp my foot like a brat. “We can just do hand stuff,” I countered with a wicked smile.
“Ness,” he groaned, his forehead dropping against mine, “when I fuck you again, I don’t want to worry about anyone down the hall hearing us.
I want to take my absolute time. I want to fuck you on every single surface in my house.
Don’t ask me to stay tonight, because I’ll say yes, and if I do, it won’t be as good as I want it to be for you. ”
A quiet whimper escaped my lips, my entire body clenching in tight, frustrated desire.
Never in my life had I wanted a man the way I wanted this one.
Standing there in the dark, I finally understood why every other guy I’d ever met had felt so completely underwhelming—it was because the absolute truth had always been standing right in the forefront of my mind.
“So I guess that means you’re actually going home?” I asked, resting my hands over his wrists while his palms still cradled my face.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register, “because this is getting harder by the exact second.”
“Pun intended?” I teased.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest before he groaned, smiling down at me—the most beautiful, unburdened smile I had ever seen from him, hands down.
“Move in with me,” he said, the joy never fading from his eyes.
“Yeah,” I breathed, not needing a single second to think about it.
His grin widened, revealing a flash of teeth and pure, unfiltered relief.
“I love you, Elliott,” I whispered—to him, to the dark night, and finally to myself.
He rested his forehead back against mine. “I was so terrified you’d never say those words to me again.”
“I’ve always loved you,” I told him softly, letting the absolute honesty anchor us. “Whether you were in my life or out of it, there’s only ever been you.”
His deep, relieved sigh filled the quiet night air, and it was the only sound I’d been waiting a decade to hear.