Chapter 52
Ava
At this point, they’d have to physically peel me off Harrison with industrial equipment.
Neither of us does much talking.
We don’t need to.
The suite door barely shuts before Harrison grabs my face and kisses me.
And I still can’t quite believe he’s here.
My fingers tangle in his shirt while his hands slide beneath my dress, pushing fabric away like if he can’t get close enough fast enough, they will be shredded.
“I missed you,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Jesus, Pix, I was an idiot for not coming after you sooner.”
“A very hot idiot.”
His rough laugh ghosts across my lips.
“Objectifying me and marrying me for my body, are you?”
I drag open the buttons of his shirt one by one, staring at the broad chest underneath like I’ve survived a famine.
“It’s at least forty percent of the reason.”
That earns me a low, rough laugh that rolls along my skin and slides under my ribs.
God.
I missed that sound.
Then he just… pauses.
Taking me in slowly.
His thumb brushes softly across my lower lip.
“How was life without me?” I whisper.
The answer leaves him instantly.
“Hell.”
Our mouths collide in desperate heat and breathless moans, tongues moving slowly together like we’re trying to make up for every lonely second apart.
My back hits the mattress softly as Harrison settles over me, broad hands sliding down my thighs before gripping them tightly.
“I missed you,” he growls against my neck, rough scruff scraping my skin as he kisses beneath my ear.
A shiver tears through me.
My thighs spread around him naturally, like my body remembers him before the rest of me can catch up.
And suddenly the ache of missing him becomes unbearable.
“Please,” I whisper.
Harrison groans low in his throat, forehead dropping briefly against mine like he’s fighting for control.
“Not yet,” he says roughly. “The second I have you, I will blow.”
Heat coils tight inside me as his fingers glide between my legs, finding that sweet spot that undoes me torturously slow.
My back arches off the bed.
“Please,” I beg shakily.
He kisses me hard, swallowing every broken sound between us like he’s trying to hold himself together by sheer force of will.
Then finally…
finally…
he sinks into me in one deep, breathtaking motion that steals the air straight from my lungs.
My eyes flutter shut as our bodies move together slowly, endlessly, like the tide returning home.
Soft words melt across my skin like prayer.
“I’ve got you.”
Emotion swells so hard inside me it aches.
“I love you,” I whisper shakily.
His arms tighten around me instantly.
“Always, Pix,” he murmurs, kissing me slow and deep like he has forever to love me now.
“Always.”
I feel all of him.
His strength.
His warmth.
His heartbeat thundering against mine.
Every wall between us crumbles a little more with each kiss, each touch, each whispered promise against my skin.
We spend the entire night tangled together.
Sometimes laughing.
Sometimes kissing through tears.
Sometimes just holding each other close while snowstorms rage beyond the windows overlooking the sea.
And every time Harrison pulls me into his arms again, the hours blur together.
And somewhere between the northern lights and mid-day sun…
I stop feeling cold.
And feel only love.
Sunlight spills pale and silver through the suite windows by the time Harrison emerges from the shower. He’s wearing nothing but gray sweatpants and a lazy grin.
Noon Harrison should come with a warning label.
He crosses the room barefoot and plucks one of the marigolds from the vase beside the bed.
“More will be here Monday.”
So it was him.
“Did you really ship the cheapest flowers in the world to me?” I laugh softly. “Because that’s insane.”
He drags the marigold slowly across my bottom lip, eyes dark and unbearably tender.
“They’re your favorite.”
God.
This man.
The way he looks at me, it undoes me every time.
Like I’m precious.
Like I’m adored.
Like he’s had me over and over, and still can’t get enough.
Heat blooms low in my stomach all over again.
Harrison grins and crawls back onto the bed beside me.
His hand slides slowly along my thigh before he kisses me deep and unhurried, like we’ve got nowhere else to be for the rest of our lives.
Which honestly sounds like Heaven.
He kisses my shoulder.
“Oh, by the way…”
Harrison stretches over me toward the nightstand and grabs an envelope.
“I picked this up.”
He hands it over.
“Elín was supposed to deliver it to you weeks ago.” He makes air quotes. “‘When she saw you next.’”
I blink.
“I’ve been avoiding Elín.” He shrugs unapologetically. “She’s a little off.”
He snorts.
“Oh, she’s a whole lotta off.”
I read the name on the envelope.
Pix
My heart stumbles instantly.
The man tried to send me a message from six thousand miles away.
And melts me a little more.
Carefully, I slide my finger beneath the seal and pull out a single card.
Just a small reminder that
you are thought of.
You are missed.
And you are loved more than you know.
Now and always, no matter where you are in the world.
Love,
Your Family
My vision blurs instantly.
Then I turn it over.
“No, you don’t need to read that—”
I do.
P.S.
Sorry about the hot springs.
I’ll do better.
X.O.
Your Nordic Snack
I start laughing so hard I can barely breathe.
We kiss again.
And I remember how dangerously easy it is to love this man.
“How do you feel about marrying me?” he asks casually against my mouth.
My eyes widen as a laugh slips free.
“I already said yes.”
“I mean how do you feel about marrying me in exactly fourteen days, twelve hours, and forty-five minutes?”
My jaw drops.
“What?”
Harrison grins that slow sexy grin.
Oh, no.
His tactical-ops smile.
My heart immediately starts sprinting.
“Harrison Evans…”
“We already did the marriage part. And the ring.” He kisses my fingers tenderly. “Now you get a wedding. With family and friends. The whole fairy tale kit and caboodle.”
“You can’t just spring a wedding on me in two weeks. That’s impossible to plan.”
“You tell me what you want. I’ll make it happen.”
“By you, you mean—”
“The entire family.” He shrugs calmly. “And possibly a few drifters we recruit to park cars and hand out champagne.”
I stare at him.
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
“Harrison—”
“Pix.” He brushes his thumb across my engagement ring. “All you have to do is show up and look devastatingly gorgeous. Which, frankly, you could do by rolling out of bed. Naked.”
He smiles like the devil himself.
I try glaring. “You wish.”
“Always.”
“You’re insane,” I whisper.
“Madly in love with you. Till death do us part.”
And somehow that’s the exact moment it hits me.
This beautiful, impossible man really crossed the Atlantic, got me back, and immediately went full tactical wedding assault before sunrise.
Then he kisses me again.
Slow.
Smiling.
Hopelessly in love.