26 #3
“I owe you an apology too.” Brushing a kiss over the wrinkled fabric beside her hand, she rested her face there for a moment.
“Right before you arrived, I was thinking about how long a separation I could actually handle, and I think . . . I think several months would be okay. The time it would take to film an average movie. So you’d have work options outside Hollywood too, at least once a year, and so would I.
It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, and I’m sorry I didn’t realize that earlier and tell you so. ”
The solid warmth under her cheek shifted as he exhaled slowly.
She raised her head, studying the softening lines of his beloved face. “I might go visit my family if you’d be gone that long
and I wasn’t working on my own project. Or I could come stay with you and explore wherever your shoot is based.”
“I’d love that. But if you need to be in LA while I’m on location, I’ll come see you whenever I can, for as long as I can—and
if you land a role that’ll keep you away from home for long, I’ll come stay wherever you’re filming whenever I’m between jobs. That’s a promise.” Ducking down,
he slid his nose alongside hers in a sweet caress, although his voice remained decisive. Hard with resolve as he laid out
his plans for meeting her needs and making her happy. “And we’ll only accept work outside LA if and when we both agree it’s
okay. Either one of us can say no for any reason, no explanation needed. Deal?”
If she knew she could always say no, would she find it easier to let him go?
Probably. But even if she didn’t, he’d understand.
The relief of it... it felt like floating. Like being washed clean.
“Deal,” she said, fighting yet more tears. “Gods above, I love you more than I can express in English or Swedish.”
Pushing up, she pressed her mouth to his in a tender, brief kiss that tasted like salt and elation. When she settled back
on her heels, though, he still had his fists in her hair and fear in his eyes.
“Does that...” His throat worked. “Does that mean you’re coming back to me?”
“Yes.” Of course. Hadn’t he been listening?
He inhaled shakily. “You’re not leaving?”
“I never want to leave you again, sotnos. ” Another quick buss on the lips, this one hard. An adamant claim on the man she adored. “Not as long as I draw breath on this earth.”
“And you love me as much as I love you?”
“More.”
Finally— finally —he smiled. “Not scientifically possible, Pippi.”
“Whatever.” Normally, she’d brandish a jar of sill in front of his nose in retaliation for the Pippi crack, but even she had to admit—reluctantly—that not all moments were
herring-appropriate. Including this one. “Any more questions?”
Because she’d really like to leave the uncontrollable-weeping portion of the morning behind and move on to the make-up-sex
portion, and she suspected Peter would also appreciate that transition.
“One more.” Gently, he unwound his fingers from her hair. Then dropped to his knees.
Oh, good. He’d read her mind.
She laughed. “Peter, you kn?ppgok . You never need to ask if you can go down on me. The answer is always going to be yes. Always .”
“I’m not—” Ducking his chin to his chest, he huffed out a laugh. “Only you, Maria. Only you would mistake a heartfelt declaration
of love and proposal of marriage for an inquiry about licking your pussy. Shit.”
A... proposal of marriage?
He wanted to be her husband?
Slowly, a smile spread across her face. Nej , a beam . Because while many committed Swedish couples didn’t care whether or not they ever legalized their union, she was still—sorry,
Kerstin—very much an all-or-nothing kind of person when it came to love.
She didn’t give a fuck about weddings. But marriage? To Peter?
The sooner, the better.
Really, she’d have thought Peter couldn’t improve upon his performances the previous times he’d sunk to his knees in front
of her, but bravo to him. As Jeanine would say: Peter Reedton. What a legend.
Still, she knew of one way to make this particular knee-sinking occasion even better.
“Are offers of marriage and oral sex mutually exclusive?” Reaching down, she slid her fingers through his hair in the way
that made him shiver every time. “Because if not, I’m saying yes to both. Just to be clear.”
He only seemed to hear half her answer, sadly.
“You’ll—you’ll marry me? It’s not too soon for you?” Why on earth he sounded so shocked, she’d never know. “I’d have asked
weeks ago, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”
She snorted. “I think you can safely say I’m not afraid of commitment, Peter. I’d make you my husband right this second if
I could.”
The last traces of fear shuttering his eyes vanished, leaving only love and piercing joy. His expression, his posture—everything
about him seemed to open. To bloom.
There wasn’t a hint of wariness left.
Peter knelt before her, unprotected and unafraid.
“I’m sorry I don’t have a ring,” he said with the sort of adorable, uncharacteristic earnestness that was going to earn him
a good amount of time spent on her own knees in the near future. “I was in a hurry to get here before you left. And if you
said yes, I thought you’d want to choose it yourself.”
He truly did know her very, very well.
Bending from the waist, she used her fingers in his hair to guide his mouth to hers in a lingering, sweet, unhurried caress.
Not a claim anymore but a declaration: that they had all the time in the world.
That she trusted him with her softness, not just her strength.
That, like him, she wasn’t worried or wary any longer, because he was hers, and she was his, and both of them were too damn stubborn to let go of what they loved.
Then she ended the kiss with a flick of her tongue against his, because her love encompassed softness, strength, sweetness,
and fierce need. Heat .
“We’ll choose my engagement ring and yours at the same time.” It wasn’t a request. “I know it’s not standard for men, but
I want everyone lusting after your thighs and dying to ride your beard to know you’re taken.”
She paused. “And speaking of beard-riding...”
After all, he was right there . And it had been a week .
He shook his head, lips twitching. “My greedy Swede.”
“You’re complaining?”
“No,” he said, and grinned openly. “Bragging.”
Then he yanked down her panties and leggings in one swift, strong tug and set a new standard for knee-sinking excellence.
Because whatever Peter did, he did with unshakable commitment.
And since he was currently doing her...
Well. Enough said.