Chapter 29
Story
The first thing Hendricks does when I open the door is pull me into his arms and kiss me.
Really kiss me.
It’s different from our other kisses. I might be pushed hard against the wall, but there’s no urgency to rip my clothes off. His hands stay locked around my waist, and he holds me like he has no intention of ever letting me go.
I love it.
He tastes fresh and delicately minty. I can sense his smile growing at whatever’s going through his mind while his tongue strokes against mine.
Hard, soft, firm. After a minute, he pulls back, enough to search my face, and I guess he finds whatever he was looking for, because he goes back in.
Soft nips at my lips, and then his mouth surrounds mine again.
And I melt.
It’s the kiss I dreamed about as a teenager, lying in bed at night after a romcom marathon. It’s Peter Kavinsky and Lara Jean, Noah Calhoun and Allie, and all the couples I fantasized about at fifteen who had what I wanted.
The perfect movie kiss.
And when it ends, he doesn’t pull away but rests his head against mine. “I still can’t believe that I can finally do that. It almost doesn’t feel real.”
My hands find his face, resting against the soft stubble covering his cheeks. “It is real, Hen.”
Bending down, he picks up the most enormous bunch of pale lilacs I’ve ever seen. I’d been so focused on him when he arrived that I hadn’t even noticed them.
I breathe them in, and their sweet almondy scent takes me straight back to our childhood.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He presses his lips to mine, then leads me through to the sofa and asks me to sit.
I haven’t heard from him since this morning, except for his request to meet here. After that kiss, the flowers, and the fact he’s still holding my hand, I’m positive he’s not going to pull his usual trick of changing his mind, but the way he’s staring at me has me curious.
“Is everything okay?”
His dimples pull in, his eyes sparkle as he leans toward me for another kiss, and he kneels in front of me. “Yes, actually, they are. For the first time in a really long time.”
“That’s great—”
“Sienna has given up any right to Max and her title as a mother.”
Hendricks’s voice breaks, and my heart cracks. My Hendricks. The pillar of strength for everyone—his son, animals he cares for, Miles, me—it’s always been the same. All the years I’ve known him. He looks out for those around him so fiercely you’d never guess the levels of pain he was carrying too.
The emotional toll it’s taken is all the more obvious when contrasted with the strength he usually radiates.
Meeting him on the floor, I wrap my arms around his thick shoulders and let his head drop to mine while he sobs quietly.
My palm rests between his shoulders. “Hen, this is amazing. He’s finally all yours.”
“I know, he’s finally mine. But it’s more than that.
When I read the document, I realized I’ve been holding my breath, waiting for the day when she’d claim rights and take him away.
” He sniffs loudly and sits back. I wait while he dries his tears on the sleeve of his jumper.
“I’ve blocked out everything in my life to concentrate on being the best dad I can be.
To give Max a life he deserves, but it means I’ve neglected everything else. ”
Taking my hand, he curls his fist around it. One fitting inside the other. Lifting it to his mouth, he runs my fingertips along his lips. It’s so slight, but I feel the softness.
“I love you, Story MacIntosh. Since we were six years old, I’ve loved you.
Before I even knew what it meant. The past few days have made me realize I should have come after you in Australia.
I shouldn’t have let you go . . .” He pushes a hand through the curls flopping on his face.
“Sometimes I wonder if we were inevitable. That we were always supposed to be together.”
My mouth quirks. “You sound like Agatha.”
“Maybe I’m just coming around to her way of thinking.” He chuckles back. “Do you believe we were always supposed to be together?”
I think he’s expecting me to agree with him, but I shake my head.
“I prefer to have a little more control over my decisions . . .” I pause as Hendricks rolls his eyes.
“And by that, I mean I don’t want any credit taken away from me for choosing you.
I chose you, Hendricks. I chose you for me.
Maybe I did it a little too young, but I still did it.
It was my decision . . .” I lean forward and kiss him, my choice.
“And I’m glad you didn’t come and find me.
We needed time. We needed the time apart to find our way back to each other.
I loved you so, so much, Hen, enough that it almost became my identity.
It wasn’t right or healthy. I was so consumed in waiting for you that I also never gave you the opportunity to choose me. ”
“I’ll always choose you, Stor.” He’s so sincere that the sting of tears twitches behind my eyes.
“Something that’s gone around and around for me is that we never got each other’s firsts.
We missed every opportunity. First kiss .
. . first time we had sex . . . first everything.
But lately, I’ve been wondering if perhaps firsts aren’t what we should be aiming for.
I never got your firsts, but if you’ll let me, I’ll give you all my lasts. ”
I launch myself at him, mouth hitting his all at the wrong angle, nothing smooth or sexy about it.
Too much teeth, not enough lips. But it’s real.
It’s passionate as I cling to him, clutching the front of his shirt so tight that he can’t get away.
He doesn’t want to, though. His grin tells me that much as he maneuvers us so we’re lined up perfectly again.
I will never get tired of kissing him, ever.
Hendricks Burlington, the first boy I’ve ever loved. The last one I will ever love.
Gently gripping my shoulders to pull me away, he holds my gaze, but there’s a knowing curve on his mouth. “We still need to take things slow. I have Max to consider, and he’s going to need time adjusting to Miss MacIntosh as his dad’s girlfriend.”
“Is that what I am now?”
“It’s what I’d like you to be.”
I bite my top lip, trying and failing to stem the flow of tears. I feel like I have everything I’ve ever wanted. Today at least. “I would be honored to be your girlfriend.”
“Which means we need to plan our first date.” Hendricks shifts onto his knee, and my heart drops to the floor. There’s no way, not this soon. “I’d like to ask you to meet me on Saturday morning at nine o’clock at The Beanery. Our first date. And I’m bringing my son.”
I snort so hard at what a dick I am that air gets lodged in my throat. I attempt to laugh through it, but it turns into more of a wheezy cough.
Hendricks watches on, brow raised, but not once do I see any flicker that would suggest he was having second thoughts, only amusement.
“It’s the Valentine Fair on Saturday,” I say eventually, once I can speak again.
“I know. It’s high time we were there together.”