Chapter 30
Roman
“Slow down, Maze.”
She briefly stops her galloping at the corner of the sidewalk to wave at me to hurry up. I picked her up from school, a change in our regular schedule, but this couldn’t wait.
And neither could my daughter.
I hold out my hand for her so we can cross the street, heading straight toward Sweet Cheeks. I texted Eloise to see where she was earlier this afternoon, and it made me nervous that she didn’t text back right away, but when she eventually did, she informed me she was working, so here I am.
Ready to lay it all on the line.
As I stand outside the door, my heart thuds in my chest, and I wipe my palms on my jeans before pushing on the handle. Mazie races in, jumping up and down at the counter, while I slowly step inside, my gaze sweeping around the place for my woman. But she’s nowhere in sight.
“Hey there,” Mio says from her place behind the counter.
“Hi!” My kid points at the cinnamon rolls behind the glass. “Daddy said I could have one.”
Mio laughs. “Lucky girl.” Then, as if she’s been expecting me, she motions to the curtain. “Elle’s in the back.”
Well, then.
With Mazie settled at a table with one of Eloise’s gigantic cinnamon buns, I make my way to meet the baker herself.
She’s faced away from me, and I can’t see what she’s doing, but I assume whisking something by the way she’s moving infinitesimally and the sounds of metal scraping.
Her hair’s pulled up in a knot at the back of her head with her usual headband keeping loose locks away.
She’s dressed in high-waisted leggings and a short pink shirt, her round hips and ass on display, a sliver of skin visible that my fingers tingle to touch.
The memory of her thighs around my waist and the feel of her belly under my hand ransack my brain, hurling all the words I’d practiced from my head.
I watch as she steps over to one of the ovens and slips on mitts to pull out a pan that makes my mouth water with the scents of sugar and cinnamon wafting my way. I’ll never not think of Eloise when I smell it.
She pours the icing she’d been mixing over it then places the bowl in the sink, but not before running a spoon along the inside and popping it into her mouth.
She nods to herself then turns to wash her hands, and that’s when I close the distance between us.
I snatch a folded towel from the counter near me and hold it out toward her as I step up to her side.
When she sees me, she stumbles back, one wet hand planting on her chest, the other ripping out her AirPod. “Oh my god.”
“Sorry.”
She droops, taking the towel from my hands, and wipes them off before setting it down along with both of her AirPods. She lifts her gaze, and all the air whooshes out of my lungs. Like the first time I laid my eyes on her, it’s that same punch in my chest—strong, overwhelming, undeniable.
I love her.
I loved her from that first moment.
And I still love her.
I plant my feet and anchor myself to the moment, breathing her name like a prayer and apology all in one. “Eloise.”
She blinks, her lips parted in an inhale, and then blinks again. Her pretty green eyes fill with water, and I bend immediately, catching the first tear on her cheek with a kiss. “Don’t cry.”
She sniffles, leaning into my touch. It’s been a few days since we’ve seen each other, but it might as well have been years for the magnitude of how it feels to be reunited with her. I know I said I was the one who needed time, and that was a self-inflicted wound.
I didn’t need time to know I loved Eloise. I needed time to realize I can’t do what I’ve done before and run away. There is no running away from Eloise.
It would be like losing a limb. An organ.
My heart.
I wait until her eyes are dry, but I keep my hands on her face, sweeping my thumbs over her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for walking out of your apartment that night and not answering you, and I’m really sorry for what I said about your family. It was way out of line.”
She nods, curling her hands around my wrists. “And I’m sorry for going behind your back to contact Amy. I shouldn’t have overstepped like that.”
“I know you did it because you thought it was the right thing,” I say, holding her gaze, “but I wish you would have talked to me first. I want you in my life. You’re the one and only person I actually want up in my business, but—”
“But only if you know I’m up in your business,” she finishes, and I pinch her chin.
“I promise I’ll tell you everything and be open with you. I want you to know everything about me. No secrets.”
“No secrets,” she agrees, and then I kiss her because I can. Because I can’t wait any longer. She tastes familiar and new all at the same time, but before I can get sidetracked by the taste of her tongue, she backs away slightly and crinkles her nose. “I… Reading Amy’s letter…”
“It’s okay.” I slide my hands down to her throat, her pulse beating rapidly behind my fingers, and she licks her lips.
“I don’t want this to come off in a type of way…”
I shake my head. I won’t ever judge her, and I feel her swallow under my palm. She clears her throat. “Amy seems like, maybe, she still needs to work through things.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t like what she said about you.”
I shrug.
“I understand why you’re so hesitant, and I’m really sorry.”
I lean down to kiss her again, but she stops me with two fingers against my lips.
“I also had a conversation with my mother.”
My brows shoot up in interest.
“I told her that she had to stop speaking to me the way she does, making me feel bad.” I don’t have time to ask more questions, because Eloise goes right on.
“She tried to make me feel bad about that, but you were right in that I had to stop letting her rule me. I had to stand up to her. I told her how she constantly makes me feel like shit, and she was quiet at first. I think because she must’ve realized what I was saying, how much she’s hurt me, but then she tried to turn it around on me.
” She flicks her hand. “So now I have a new list of things to talk about with my therapist. I’m just done being her punching bag.
I can’t have her in my life if she’s going to continue to treat me the way she does.
And you, too. She has to be nice to you.
I told her that I love you, and if she can’t accept us being together, then she can fuck right off. ”
Pride swells in my chest. Not only because she did something really difficult and stood her ground, but that she claimed me.
“There’s my girl,” I murmur and cover her mouth with mine. I pour everything I feel for her into that kiss—my pride, my love, my devotion. Pressing my forehead to hers, I tell her, “I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re strong and brave, and I love you. I love you so much.”
She gasps at my declaration, her smile as bright as the sun.
My sunshine.
“Say it again,” she orders, and I will tell her as many times as she wants to hear it.
“I love you, Eloise, and I want to be with you. You’re mine.”
She speaks her answer against my lips. “You’re mine too.”
“Look,” I say, swiveling my head to show her the new ink on the side of my neck.
“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Is that…”
I nod. “For you.”
“Are they…”
I nod again. “Your lips.”
“How?”
I face her again, but all of her attention is on the hot-pink lips I had tattooed by Ian. A perfect replica of her mouth. “The night we went to dinner before the wedding.” I mime how she patted her lips after she put her lipstick on. “I kept the tissue.”
She stares at me with wide-eyed wonder. “I can’t believe you did that. Kept a tissue.” Then she drags her fingertips over her permanent mark. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“I’ve always got you with me. It’s not the only one either.” I take off my coat so I can lift the sleeve of my T-shirt to show her the one Cash inked on my triceps. The small prairie dog with bright, rainbow-colored fur, holding a cinnamon roll.
“Oh my god! I was just talking with Sloane about prairie dogs. They’re Micah’s latest obsession, and now I’m kind of obsessed with them too.
Did you know they have tight-knit family units called coteries and those coteries form little neighborhoods?
” She presses her fingers together in front of her face as if she’s becoming a prairie dog in front of me.
“Isn’t that adorable? There are whole prairie dog towns. ”
I love anything she loves, so I nod, extraordinarily happy at the coincidence of having a perfect tattoo to represent her.
“When did you get that?” she asks, tracing her fingertips over the tiny rodent on my arm.
“Before our fight. I lost a bet and had to get something by one of the guys.”
“That’s why I didn’t notice.” She frowns, touching it, opening her mouth like she might apologize again, but like Ian said, the past is in the past.
“It’s over. We don’t need to keep rehashing it. Just tell me you love me and keep moving forward, okay?”
“I love you.” She loops her arms around my neck, ducking her face so her nose skims my throat. “You’re a big softy, aren’t you? My giant refrigerator is actually quite ooey, gooey underneath.”
I’m about to argue, but she presses her lips to my neck, right over her lips, sucking at the spot. Goddamn, this woman drives me wild.
Unable to resist any longer, I sweep her up, her legs wrapping around my waist. Our lips meet again, hot and urgent.
We lick into each other’s mouths, a little sloppy, a lot desperate, and I tighten my grip on her ass as she tunnels her fingers into my hair.
I’m about to lift her onto the stainless-steel counter when the sound of the curtain swishing open makes us both freeze.
Eloise and I both whip our heads around to see Mio’s eyes go wide. She immediately spins on her heel to march right back out, and Eloise bursts into giggles against my neck. I let a smile loose too.
I reluctantly set her back down and smooth my hands over her hips, silently cursing that I hadn’t thought ahead about how I’d want to strip her naked and fuck her as soon as possible. But we’re in her kitchen, and my kid’s right out front.
“I brought Mazie with me,” I say, linking my fingers with Eloise’s, tugging her toward the curtain, but she stops me.
“Wait. Wait. I have something for you.” She pulls me toward the other end of the counter, where the pan she took out of the oven sits on a cooling rack. Sitting front and center is an enormous cinnamon bun, drizzled with so much icing it’s spilling over the edges.
“I made this for you. And Mazie.” She bumps my hip with hers. “My own way of apologizing.”
“She’s gonna sleep at your place after she eats this. You can deal with her sugar high.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
I don’t doubt it, and we make our way out to the front of the bakery, hand in hand.
I immediately spot Mazie, perched on a chair with cinnamon bun carnage covering the table in front of her.
She’s managed to coat her cheeks and chin in icing.
But the second she sees Eloise, she jumps down and charges over.
“Ellie!”
She crashes into her legs, and Eloise doesn’t hesitate to sweep her up into a hug, getting icing smeared all over her shirt in the process.
She doesn’t even flinch, merely laughs and wipes at Mazie’s mouth with her hand, something so natural and maternal about the action, and I know she was meant for this. Meant for us.
“I have something for you,” Mazie practically screams at Eloise, and I blow out a breath.
“Volume, Maze.”
She ignores me—of course—too intent on retrieving the paper bag from her table. She holds it out eagerly. “For you!”
Eloise takes it, peering inside. When she pulls out the framed drawing, her smile falters.
I watch emotions flicker across her face as she takes in the picture Mazie drew of us—her family.
The same one she’d drawn of me with blue hair, Eloise as a pink stick figure, Mazie in a pink dress, and Steve.
All of us holding hands. Even the rabbit.
I did frame it, like she asked.
Tears fill Eloise’s eyes, and Mazie’s forehead crinkles with concern. “Why are you crying? Are you sad?”
Eloise is quick to assure her. “No, babe. I love it. I just got a little choked up because I’m so happy.” She kneels down to Mazie’s level. “This is the most special gift anyone has ever given me.”
My daughter beams, throwing her arms around Eloise’s neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too. So much.”
Eloise meets my gaze over Mazie’s shoulder before picking her up and leaning against my chest, so I can wrap my arms around both of them. And I know without a doubt, we’re going to be a family.
Me and my two girls.