8. Lance
Lance
I let Cora take three steps before the key cuts into my palm.
She asked me to choose her.
Not protect her. Not give her options. Not decide what would be best once her shop was rebuilt and she no longer needed my house.
She asked me to tell her I wanted her to stay.
I stood there and gave her every answer except the one she needed.
Fear dressed itself up as selflessness, and I let it hurt the woman I love.
I move after her.
“What are you waiting for?” Zain calls from behind me.
“Nothing.”
“Then go.”
I close my hand around the key and head for my truck.
“Renner.”
I look back.
“Do it right.”
Tessa lives a few blocks away. Her car is in the driveway when I pull up.
I am out of the truck before the engine stops ticking.
I knock once.
Tessa opens the door and looks me over.
“You have five minutes before I decide you are stupid beyond repair.”
“Fair.”
She steps aside.
Cora stands in the living room with her back to me. Her shoulders are rigid beneath the thin straps of her dress.
“Tessa,” she says.
“I suddenly need lemonade.”
“We have lemonade.”
“I need different lemonade.”
Tessa walks past me and closes the door behind her.
Cora turns.
Her eyes are red.
I did that.
The knowledge sits like a blade between my ribs.
“I loved you before the fire,” I say.
She blinks.
“I was too much of a coward to admit it.”
“Lance.”
“The first time I came into your shop, I could barely speak. It was the anniversary of my mother’s death, and every flower looked wrong.”
Her lips part.
“You asked me one question. What did I remember most about her?”
Cora’s gaze stays on mine.
“I said her garden. You gave me white roses, rosemary, and a stem of blue delphinium. You wrote remembrance on the card because I did not know what to say.”
The memory has lived inside me for two years.
“You did not ask why a grown man could not order flowers without shaking. You touched my hand and told me grief was love with nowhere to go.”
Tears gather in her eyes.
“I came back the next week and bought flowers I did not need. Then I started driving down Main Street on my way to work even though Pine Road is faster.”
I step closer.
“I knew when you opened. I knew which dress you wore on Thursdays. I knew you left water behind the bakery for the stray cat.”
“You noticed all that?”
“I noticed everything.”
Her breath catches.
“The fire did not make me love you. It scared me enough to stop pretending I didn’t.”
I take another step.
“It gave me an excuse to bring you home. Then you put flowers in my coffee mug, made fun of my eggs, and slept with your hand over my heart.”
My voice turns rough.
“I started making plans for the shop because it matters to you. When the adjuster mentioned the rental, I acted like I wanted you to take it because I thought letting you go first would hurt less than waiting for you to leave.”
“I did not want to leave.”
“I know.”
I open my hand.
The key lies against my palm, the green ribbon still looped through it.
“I do not want this back.”
Cora looks down at it.
“I want your dresses in my closet. I want flowers covering every empty surface. I want your journal beside my bed and your tea next to my coffee.”
I stop close enough to touch her, but keep my hands at my sides.
“I want you there when I wake up.”
A tear slides down her cheek.
“Build your shop. Earn your own money. Stand on your own feet.”
My chest tightens around the words that should have come easily the first time.
“Then come home to me because you choose me.”
Her mouth trembles.
“You make terrible eggs.”
“I’ll learn.”
“Your house needs color.”
“Bring all of it.”
“I’m filling your guest room with craft supplies.”
“It’s already full.”
“We’ll clean it.”
“Whatever you want.”
Her eyes search mine.
“I love you,” she says.
The words hit every broken place inside me and make something whole.
“Say it again.”
“I love you, Lance.”
I pull her into my arms.
Her mouth meets mine before I can reach for it.
The kiss tastes like tears and lemonade. She grips the back of my shirt and presses close enough that I feel every soft curve against me.
I force myself to lift my head before I forget we are standing in Tessa’s living room.
“Come home.”
Cora shakes her head.
“Ask properly.”
I understand.
I cup her face.
“Stay with me, Cora. After the shop is rebuilt. After you have your own money and do not need anything from me.”
Her eyes fill again.
“Stay because I love you. Stay because I want you in my bed, in my house, and in every part of my life.”
I press my forehead to hers.
“I do not want another day without you in it.”
Her smile breaks open.
“Yes.”
I kiss her again.
The front door opens.
“Five minutes are up,” Tessa says.
Cora laughs against my mouth.
Tessa looks at the key in Cora’s hand, then at me.
“You may live.”
The drive home takes six minutes.
Cora spends five of them with her hand resting high on my thigh.
By the time I open the front door, my control is hanging by a thread.
She steps inside and turns toward me.
“I left a dress in your closet.”
“I noticed.”
“You did?”
“I notice everything.”
Her blue eyes darken.
“Then notice this.”
She reaches for the hem of her dress and pulls it over her head.
Nothing beneath it except pale pink panties.
My cock goes hard.
“Cora.”
She drops the dress onto the floor and steps free of it.
She does not hide.
Her hands do not cover her soft stomach or full breasts. She stands in front of me with her shoulders back, knowing exactly how beautiful she is.
Pride burns through me.
“I choose you,” she says. “I want you to claim me like you mean to keep me.”
I cross the space between us.
My mouth takes hers while my hands close around her hips. I back her against the bedroom door and lift her.
Her legs lock around my waist.
“Mine,” I say against her throat.
“Yours.”
The answer goes straight through me.
I carry her to the bed and lay her down.
She reaches for me, but I catch her wrists and hold them above her head with one hand.
“I waited two years.”
Her eyes flash.
“You stayed away.”
I lower my mouth to her breast.
Her argument turns into a moan.
I draw one nipple between my lips while my free hand slides beneath her panties.
She is already wet.
“All this for me?”
“There is no one else.”
The answer hits somewhere deep and possessive.
I push two fingers inside her.
She arches beneath me, pulling against my hold on her wrists.
“Lance.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Your mouth.”
“Where?”
Color spreads across her cheeks, but she does not look away.
“On my pussy.”
Pride and hunger tear through me.
“Good girl.”
I release her wrists and drag the panties down her legs.
Then I settle between her thighs.
Her taste fills my mouth.
Cora grips my hair while I lick through her slowly, learning every place that makes her breath catch. I keep the pace controlled until she starts lifting her hips, chasing my tongue.
“Please.”
I close my mouth over her clit and slide my fingers deeper.
She comes fast.
Her cries fill the room. Her thighs close around my head, and her pussy clenches hard around my fingers.
I work her through every trembling pulse until she pushes weakly at my shoulder.
Then I stand and strip.
Cora watches every movement.
There is no fear in her eyes now.
Only want.
“Come here,” she says.
I climb over her.
She wraps one hand around my cock and guides me through her slick folds.
“Fill me.”
I push inside with one deep stroke.
We both groan.
Her body takes me more easily this time, tight and hot around my cock.
I hold still long enough to study her face.
“Good?”
She lifts her hips.
“Harder.”
I give her what she asks for.
The bed strikes the wall with every thrust. Cora meets me, her nails dragging down my back as she says my name like a demand.
“This is where you belong,” I growl. “In my bed. In my house. Wrapped around me.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“I’m yours.”
Her walls tighten around me.
I slide one hand between us and circle her clit.
“Come for me. Let me feel you.”
She breaks beneath me.
Her body locks around mine, and my name leaves her lips as she clenches around my cock.
I drive through every pulse until my control snaps.
I bury myself deep and come inside her with a rough shout.
Afterward, I roll onto my side and take her with me.
Cora settles against my chest.
The room smells like flowers, warm skin, and us.
I press my mouth to the top of her head.
“Home,” I say.
For once, the word does not hurt.